Mazatlan

Angelina's version

Leaving early, we were on a quest to find a guy named Danny’s house in Sinaloa. Although it was now thankfully humid the trees were all dead and many corn fields died out. We were unsure which kilometer sign to turn off on and decided to head further south to Mazatlan. We were both starving as we drove around looking for the RV park. To our surprise the original park that I had researched had closed down. Expecting was something big like the McDonalds, Home Depot or Sam’s Club that already existed down the street. We luckily found San Diego RV park across the road.

After meeting the unique permanent residents of the park, I decided to have a melt down from traveling long distances. Dorian made me some lunch and went to finally surf. I decided to leave our injured dog at camp and walked down to the surf to watch Dorian. The beach was beautiful. The ocean wasn’t as clear as San Carlos, but it did give off a pretty light green. Warm water filled the beaches, along with the hundreds of blue-bottle jellyfish. The locals introduced themselves to me while complimenting on Dorian’s surfing skills. We respectively hung out with them briefly and headed back to camp.

This beach city was overbuilt like the coast of southern California. The campground had a gorgeous tile gazebo and I jumped at the chance to dance for a while. It was nice to exercise. There were lots of mosquitoes and we were blocked from the breeze at the campground, so we called it a short night and passed out from a long day wondering what the daylight was going to bring us.