March 22, 2013, Saturday, Marina El Cid, Mazatlan, Mexico

Up early, everything stowed, paperwork is stamped, we are checked out of the office and ready to leave.  It is just high tide and we need to exit the channel before the dredge starts work at 9:00.  We will go back down to Stone Island and anchor overnight before taking off for Isla Isabel.  First we need to stop at the fuel dock just up the channel.  Problem #1, the fuel dock does not open until 8:30 and it is only 8:00.  The workers are there, eager to help us tie up but the pumps are locked until the office opens.  Problem #2, there is a red flag flying and the harbor master had closed the channel.  No one can leave.  There is a strong swell outside and waves are breaking at the channel mouth.  Up at Marina Mazatlan the water was almost completely still but down here at the mouth of the channel the tide is running strong.  It actually looks like a river racing out of the channel and tossing the boats around.  By the time we finish getting fuel we realize that we are not going anywhere today.  So we check in to the office are are assigned a slip and given two fluffy towels.

Even getting into the slip is a challenge with the strong current.  By the time Alan is satisfied we have used all 6 mooring lines and all 6 fenders to hold us onto the dock.  And here we are in the lap of luxury.  There are green lawns, lovely landscaping, several pool areas, a swim up bar.  Best of all, we are surrounded by Mexican families, not just retired Americans.  The hotel is actually delightful.  The pools wrap around the marina and and the hotel towers, which are painted in a variety of soft colors.  Concrete sculpted into the shape of rocks create ledges for diving, water slides, waterfalls and places to sit.  Iguanas wander the lawn and help themselves to unattended salads.  The hot tub is really hot, the pools are just warm enough and the sky is clear.  Waiters wander, taking orders for drinks or food. I grab my towel, hat and sunglasses and head for the hot tub where I send the rest of the day.  Alan stays on the boat, delighted to have a good strong wifi connection, and finishes downloading charts and updating software.

Sunday morning is more of the same, the red flag is up, the swells are still breaking into the mouth of the channel.  Two of our big fenders had flattened like balloons overnight.  Oh dear, forced to spend another day in luxury.  Our slip costs about $30/day.  Hotel rooms are $250+.  Such a deal.

Finally Monday morning the swell had died enough for us to leave.  Once we check out, 3 strong guys show up to help us cast off and we are underway by 9:00.  After all that, we slip smoothly out of the channel and back into the ocean.  Now our main concern is water.  The water in the marina was so dirty that Alan did not want to run the water maker and we are almost out.  For 2 hours we cruise along the bay with the motor on and the generator running while the tanks fill.  For the first time on the trip, Alan is actually starting to get seasick because he has to stay down below and tend the water maker.  Luckily we have the patches and eventually he agrees to try one and gradually turns from pale green back to his normal ruddy tan.  Since I am on deck steering, the wrist bands are enough for me.  About 3:00 we anchor back in Stone Island harbor, just outside of the old harbor where our visit to Mazatlan started over a month ago.  the plan is to go ashore for a last round of fish and shrimp, call our friends and see if the still and finally want to go for a sail tomorrow and then take off for Isla Isabel and points south. 

Jan 28, 2013,
 SO SORRY, THIS ONE IS WAY OUT OF ORDER AND I CAN'T FIGURE OUT HOW TO PUT IT BACK
 anchored at Ensenada Grande, Isla Espirito Santo, BCS

After a rocky night, we were up early to catch the morning radio net for the weather.  Nothing but static.  We tried every frequency that was supposed to have a broadcast until 10:30 and could not get anything.  Either we are in a radio dead zone or there is something seriously wrong with our radio.  We finally reached another boat on VHF which assured us that strong northern winds were still predicted for today or tomorrow. We would not be going anywhere today.

The west wind which was causing all of the rocking and rolling was gradually dying down, so we got to work on today’s project, finally bolting the compass back on.  While Alan rounded up the right bolts and drilled holes and got everything ready, I got to work cleaning out one more cupboard.  This one had my little battery operated sewing machine, sail mending kit, velcro, elastic, odds and ends of fabric, misc. crafty stuff and board games.  I got everything all finished, neat and tidy, labeled and organized about the time that Alan was ready for me to help screw on the compass.  Both projects done and time for lunch, which was salad from last night’s left over tortellini.

Meanwhile the wind had died down almost completely and it was another lovely, warm, still afternoon perfect for putting on another coat of paint.  It looks so good when it is done.  The entire area just outside the cabin entryway is finally free of bits of flaking paint.

All day we had been watching the sky, waiting for the wind to shift to the north.  Waiting for the big storm.  If it actually came from the north we were perfectly protected in our little cove.  If it came from the west we were in for another rocky ride.  And all day it grew more still.  Towards evening clouds began to build in the west.  Out came the books to see if we could figure out what kind they were and what they meant. One thing was for sure, they were in the west, blowing towards us and creating a beautiful sunset.    We cleared the decks and made sure everything was tied down for the night and went below for dinner.  Still no north wind.

Then about 10:00, the wind began to blow, the boat swung completely around and began to rock from side to side.  And here we are with another long night of 10 knot west winds.  Time to leave the Sea of Cortez and head for Mazitlan and the mainland.

March 9-22, 2013, Marina Mazatlan

We ended up staying in Marina Mazatlan for 2 weeks instead of just a few days and it was our least favorite spot so far, even worse than Cabo San Lucas.    At least is Cabo there was lots of local color.  Oh, it is a nice enough place.  We are tied to a dock so we can just walk ashore.  No need to launch the dingy and worry about chaining it up.  There are hot showers and a laundromat, wifi and a grocery store and restaurants.  There is even a line dancing class 3 mornings a week.  But it has none of the charm of the old city.  The restaurants serve burgers and wings and have big screen TVs showing sports.  The wifi is impossibly slow and does not reach to the boat.  The water is so dirty we are afraid to run the water maker.  There is a layer of scum floating on it and at night it sparkles with phosphorescence. It is so calm here I almost forget I am on a boat. I miss the gentle rocking and rolling all night long. Worst of all, to us, everyone is American or Canadian.  They are all older couples who seem to have been here forever.  They got this far and decided that they liked it, or one of them got sick, and they just stayed here.  Some of them go home for the summer.  Some take their boats over to La Paz occasionally or up into the Sea of Cortez.  Some live on their boats and some are in the condos.  They are all very nice but there is no discussion of sailing adventure and where to go next (and they all wear ugly shoes, even to dance class).  For some reason they all seem much older than we are, although actually they are not.  It’s all in the attitude. 

The marina was created in open swamp land at the north end of town and it is surrounded by open fields, high rise condos and a handful of convenience stores.  The big box stores are all up at this end of town too, but the are all spread out and none of them are within walking distance of the marina or of each other.  There are no mercados or taco stands or charming art galleries.  No walking to town and wandering around for the afternoon.    Each shopping trip involves a long bus ride to a particular store and another long ride back laden with plastic bags that usually fall apart just as I get off the bus.  We would both love to go back to the all-you-can-eat sushi place or the pink taco stand that was supposed to be so good but was never open when we wanted to eat,  but we can’t face the thought of the long bus ride there and back after dinner, so we spend evenings on the boat reading trash novels and go to bed early

We came here to get the thru hill cleaned and checked and that was done quickly and efficiently.  We did not even have to have the boat hauled like we feared.  We also discovered on the way up from the old harbor that the alternator was not charging the batteries correctly so we need to have that checked too.  That takes longer and involves running the batteries down overnight but eventually a wire is replaced, adjustments are made the system is tuned up and we have plenty of power again.  The solar panels have been working fine but are not strong enough to charge the main engine battery.  While this is going on, I also manage to get several more layers of white paint on, from bow to stern along the rail.  It is all scrapped, caulked, sanded and painted.  Looks great .  There is lots more to do but that is enough for now.  I won’t have to sit and stare at chipped paint and bare wood as we sail along.

So, enough of my whining.  We are both ready to move on.  Alan needs one more day to download charts from the internet and I should make a last shopping trig since it could be several weeks until our next port.

March 8, 2013,  Mazatlan Old Harbor to Marina Mazatlan

This is the day that we leave the Old Harbor of Mazatlan.  We have been here a month and it is time to go.  Before we head south we are going up to the other end of town, the Golden Zone, to one of the new marinas to have the sticky thru hull cleaned.  We will be tied to a dock with  showers and electricity and running water next to a hotel with a  hot tub, but it is hard to leave here.  Everyone has been so friendly and helpful.  We have tried almost all of the taco stands but there are still a few that we never got to.  The night watchman had a cheery “buenas noches” when we come in late at night after dinner in town.  The guys along the street all give us a smile when we walk by.  The fishing boats and pongas wave as they go by.  The 20 minute walk into town has become very familiar.  I know just where all the stray cats hang out and which ones are friendly enough to let me scratch their ears for a minute.

 So we are up early to run through the check list and move out.  Little by little, we get everything shipshape although we seem to be moving very slowly.  We take the dingy ashore to check out from Club Nautico and tell Bill that we were leaving his mooring.  Drop off a last load of trash and several bags of stuff that we have decided we don’t need.  Back on board, we hoist the dingy on board, fold it flat and lash it down.  Everything is finally ready about noon.  Alan called the marina earlier and was told that 2:00 would be the best time to enter the harbor.  That would be slack tide and the dredging machine would be on a lunch break.  It is about 10 miles up the coast so the timing is just right.

Out of the harbor there was a light breeze, just enough to raise the main.  Since we have not run the engine for a month, we left it on to charge the battery as we sailed up the coast.  Gradually the shore line changes from little houses perched on the hills to large hotels lining the beach.  Almost before we know it, we are there.  We try to raise the marina on the radio to let them know we are coming in but can not get an answer.  Eventually Alan calls on the phone.  Still no answer.  They must be our to lunch.  It is almost 2:00 so we decide to just head on in.  The harbor mouth is very narrow between 2 breakwaters and faces directly out to sea so that the swell runs straight in.  Just inside it makes a sharp turn to the right so we cannot see if there is anything in the way.  It is also very shallow.  Carefully, carefully we move on in, watching the depth gage, 2.8, 2.6, 2.5, 2.1, 1.8, finally at 1.1 it begins to climb again.  The depth reads in fathoms and a fathom is 6 feet.  Rhapsody is about 6 feet deep so I get very nervous any time the depth gage shows less that 2.  This was the worst we have had but we were in.  Just around the corner we come across the dredger parked along the side while the guys have lunch.  Still no answer on the radio but we had our slip number so we kept going.  then, just as we spotted where we thought our slip should be we realized that there were 3 men there waving us in.  Alan executed a very neat u turn, since the wind had suddenly come up and was against us, we tossed out the lines and we were in.

With much writing in notebooks and comparing of notes and numbers, we were checked in and told to report to the office after 3 when everyone would be back from lunch.  So here we are, surrounded by tall condos.  The docks are about half full and most of the boats are from Canada or the northwest.  Everyone speaks english.  It almost feels like we are back in the US.  I am so glad that we did not come here first and so sorry for those cruisers who only come here and never experience the funky joy of the old harbor downtown.  We will get the work done, take advantage of the laundramat and showers, see if we can find the hot tub, hit the Walmart, Home Depot and Mega store and hopefully be out of here in less than a week. 

Feb 13-20, 2013   Old Harbor, Mazatlan, Mexico

Alan’s days are filled with working on the boat.  Mine are spent either painting, helping Alan or going into town for groceries and supplies.  Since we have given up on ice for the icebox, we need to shop every few days and since I have to carry everything back I can not buy too much at once.  Actually, I don’t mind.  It is fun to investigate all the small shops and discover new markets.Most of the time I walk but if we need to go a long way or have a lot of packages we take the bus.   About half a dozen of them  of them come all the way out to the end of the street, others stop at the turnaround just up the road.  There are no assigned bus stops.  If you want a ride just stand in the road and wave.  As far as I have been able to find out, there is no published map showing all the routes.  There are a couple of tourist maps showing 2-3 on the main routes, but not nearly all of them. They all have their stops painted in white paint on the front window.  Trouble is, they all seem to have different interpretations of the route so no two have the same signs.  To get home, we learn to look for the key word “faro”, which is the lighthouse up the hill at the end of the street.  Luckily there is almost always someone around to help us figure out which bus to take to get where we need to go.  Getting off is like getting on.  When you see the stop, let the driver know and he will stop, often in the middle of the street blocking traffic to. 

When we first got to Mazatlan, I was not excited about the city.  It seemed like LA , or Tijuana, lots of sprawl but no real center.  But the longer we stay here the more I am charmed.  The people are wonderful; friendly, helpful, very low key, just going about the daily business of living.  Several years ago, the cruise ships stopped coming here, so there are not a lot of tourists around although there are quite a number of retired Americans, mostly concentrated in the old town.  Like the harbor, the city itself is an fascinating mix of lovely old homes, weed strewn vacant lots, buildings that are falling apart and new condos.  Houses are built in the spanish style, flush along the street with no yards.  When we can get a glimpse inside through an open door or window, there are lovely patios, fountains  and even  swimming pools.  

Mazatlan is also full of musicians and artists.  Almost as soon as Carnival is over, the jazz fest starts.  followed a week later by the monthly Art Walk.  Most of the events are free or cost only a few pesos  After a day of working on the boat it is lovely to head into town for an evening of culture.  One evening we go to a concert in the lovely old Angela Peralta theater which reminds me of La Scala inside with the rows of seats going straight up.   Another night we sit outside in the plaza and listen to a concert while watching the people. There is music in all of the restaurants.  One restaurant in particular, La Boheme, is unique.  Down a narrow hall between 2 other restaurants, the room widens out into the ruins of an old home.  They have left the crumbling walls and beams and painted them in soft colors.  The roof is only half there.  If you sit in the back of the room, there are only open beams overhead with enormous trees growing from them.  The roots trail down along the walls and hang over your head at the tables.  One night there was a white owl on a beam for most of the evening.    The Art Walk took let us into more homes and galleries, all of them fascinating.  After a month I almost feel like a regular.  I could live here very happily if there weren’t more cities to see and seas to sail.  But is any of you are looking for a retirement home, I recommend Mazatlan.  Houses are cheap, food is reasonable with lots of fresh seafood, people are friendly and there are lots of cats. 

Mazatlan Old Harbor




Our home for the month was the Old Harbor of Mazatlan.  Everyone said not to go there, it is dirty and dangerous but we came to love it.  It is tucked just inside the breakwater behind a tall hill with the lighthouse on it, el Faro.  Originally el Faro was an island but was connected to the town by a causeway in the late 1800s to create the harbor.  It is lined with small businesses in various stages of disrepair, sightseeing boat docks, small restaurants, boat repair yards, our Club Nautica and a marine sciences school.   The harbor is full of sport fishing boats, pongas and stone island tour boats.  From time to time another cruiser comes in to anchor but mostly we are the only sailboat here except for a few that obviously have not moved in years and are sadly in need of repair. 

At the end of the causeway is another hill separating the harbor from the old town itself.  Over, behind or around this hill are the 3 routes into town.  We become very familiar with all 3 routes.  Over leads along a spectacular cliff among scattered homes clinging to the side of the mountain with views of the ocean is every direction.  Behind is the backside of the hill, quiet, less steep, more modest houses views of the industrial harbor.  Around takes us the flat way along the waterfront where there are always dozens of beer trucks lined up waiting to be loaded onto freighters, past the main bus turnaround, past several taco stands each with their own style of food and to the laundry where clothes are washed for 50 pesos/load.  One way or the other, we the 20 minute walk into town almost every day.  Little by little the locals get to know us and there is always a greeting se we go by.

Life aboard settles into a comfortable routine.  We have plenty of power thanks to the solar panels.  Plenty of water thanks to the water maker. We “make water” twice a week, not because we use that much water but because it has to be run to flush the filters.  We do have to carry a small gas can for gas to power the generator which runs the water maker since it draws too much power to run off of the solar panels. Our dingy has an electric motor which is charged with solar panels so we also don’t need to worry about gas for that motor.  The only thing we have to worry about is propane for the stove.  Maybe someday we will put in an electric stovetop and then we won’t need to worry about that.   We have internet access via phone service on the iPad.  If we want full internet we go ashore where the Club has a room upstairs set aside for internet.  Unfortunately, there is no glass in the windows so it gets were breezy and the lights don’t work.  But is is a very fast internet connection so we spend an afternoon there about once a week.  Because we are in a harbor, we cannot get SSB radio or hear anything on the VHF radio except for the local traffic from the port captain so we have lost contact with the cruising community except for the occasional boat that anchors for a few days before heading on south.   We hoist the dingy onto the deck at night and toss it back into the water in the morning.  When we go ashore we take the handle off and leave it with the watchman in the office.

Morning starts with the sun coloring the crumbling concrete of the buildings ashore a lovely rich orange.  A rooster crows in the distance.  Men arrive to get to work on various rebuilding projects.  The buildings in the harbor are all in various stages of falling apart but here and there new paint is going on, doors are being rebuilt, debris is being removed.  The whole place looks like it has fallen on hard times but is gradually coming back to life.  Trucks and bulldozers rev their engines and the sport fishing boats head out to sea.  About 9:30 the catamarans arrive with music blaring and pull up to their docks to load up with people  taking the day trip to stone island.  Lunch included, free drinks and a charming tour guide for your pleasure.  Some days they are full and somedays there are just a few passengers.  between 2:00 and 3:00 the stone island boats return.  Once the tourists are delivered to the waiting taxis the crews gather at one of the waterside restaurants for beer and cerviche, returning fishermen join them and the mariache bands begin to play.  It is by far the worst band we have ever heard but as the sun sets and we have a few beer of our own it takes on a certain charm.   We are definitely in Mexico.

Feb 9-12, Saturday-Tuesday, 2013, Mazatlan, Carnival

This is supposed to be the second or third largest carnival in the world.  I am not sure how you measure the size of Carnival.  Number of events?  Length of parade?  Number of people on the streets?  I have never made it to Mardi Gras or Rio but this was definitely a home town, family oriented, low key event, and a lot of fun.

The first event we want to go to is the mock navel battle and fireworks.  While we were hanging out in the bar last night, we met an man who invited us to come watch the fireworks from his house on top of the hill.  We set off about 8:00 to walk up the hill to his house.  He is an American married to a Mexican woman who lives here full time now.  The fireworks are scheduled for 10pm and over the course of the next 2 hours more and more people show up until the rooftop patio is bursting.  Some are Americans and some are Mexicans.  There is a lively mix of conversation fueled by a wonderful mango tequila punch.  We can see the main part of town down below where the crowds are enjoying themselves.  Eventually about 10:30 the fireworks are set off from boats out in the bay, echoed by more fireworks from the shore. We finally headed back down the hill to our boat around midnight.

Next day the parade was supposed to start at 6:00 up at the other end of the Malecon.  It would go from there away from town toward all the hotels in the golden zone.  We had not actually gone that far yet, so I figured we should head out early to get a good spot.  Up over the hill we went and down into town.  As we got to the main street we saw that there were tall fences blocking access but at this early hour they were open and we went right through.  Pacifico beer is one of the main employers in town and a major sponsor of Carnival and the entire street was lined with beer tents.   Pacifico also  kindly provided free toilets every few blocks.  They looked like shipping containers but seemed to be made from packing crates with actual flush toilets inside.  In addition to the beer tents, there were food stands and almost a dozen large sound stages.  Alan, always the AV guy, was very put out by the fact that the speakers were facing directly at the cliff.  He said that the feedback would be horrible.  I figured they wanted it to be as loud as possible.  The other choice would be to put them against the cliff, facing the ocean.  If they did that they would lose sound. 

 Surprisingly, the street was almost empty.  We wandered on along the Malecon for a couple of miles.  Finally the we hit the tail end of the staging area and the beginning of the spectator crowds.  The floats were all large flatbeds pulled by tractors.  They were decorated with paper mache’ to represent movies with the requisite pretty girls riding on top.  At this moment, there were surrounded by milling groups of excited teenagers in short skirts or tight pants with lots of makeup and sparkles.  Across the street I saw horse trailers pulling up and I cold hear a band rehearsing.   So we wandered on past float after float through increasingly dense crowds.  We saw floats for Toy Story, Avatar, Ben Hur, Cleopatra, Alice in Wonderland among others. .  Eventually we came to the head of the floats and wriggled our way into a good viewing spot.  Now the waiting started.  A handful of vendors worked the crowd, selling cotton candy and noise makers.  People wandered along greeting friends.  Kids ran around full of the excitement of the night.  The sun set over the ocean behind us in a spectacular blaze of orange.  Police cars blew their sirens and the officers tried to get people to move back.  A military helicopter flew low along the beach behind us.  Alan said that he counted 4 different law enforcement agencies. 

Finally, finally only about 1/2 hours late the parade moved out.   The first 2 floats were Pacifico Brewery, official sponsor of the parade topped with very sexy, barely dressed dancers, bumping and grinding to the sounds of loud music.  They were followed by a band, which turned out to be the only band in the parade, out of tune and out of step but enthusiastic.  After that came a drill team and then the first theme float.  This turned out to be the pattern of the parade, a group of about 100 young people representing one of the dance studios or social clubs in town, dancing and prancing to loud music followed by their float.  Every float had its own sound system with several sound guys running along side twiddling or tweaking to keep it playing as loud as possible.  Sometimes the dancers had their own sound system playing music different from the music on their float.  How they could tell which music they were supposed to be dancing to, I have no idea but it did not seem to make a lot of difference since the movements were only loosely connected to any music as far as I cold tell.  Everyone seemed to do their own thing anyway, with lots of waving to the crowd, occasionally leaving the group to come and talk to friends or fix their costume.


About half way through the parade we decided to walk back towards the end of it.  It was moving very slowly and the noise of the music was wearing me out.  Remember, we were standing at the beginning of the parade, so logically as we moved back toward the end there would be fewer and fewer people.  Anyone who was standing further towards the end would have missed lots of the floats.  Surprisingly, the crowds did not thin out.  They were just as thick when we reached the last float as they had been at the beginning.  These people had been sitting watching the same float for 3 hours.  I don’t get it.   After the last float came the horses, only a few but beautiful and well mannered.  The parade was barely moving at this point and children were rushing out to have their pictures taken with the horses.  Several times parents lifted toddlers up to sit on a horse for a picture.

With the end of the parade the crowds did thin out and we began the long walk back to the boat.  We had not eaten yet so the first priority was food.  Luckily there were lots of food booths.  We chose 5 tacos for 30 pesos ($3) for our first course, with Pacifico from the stand across the street.  Wandering on, beer in hand, we next tried vampiras, sort of a cross between a pizza and a taco.  I was intrigued by the huarachas which were sort of the same but shaped like the sole of a sandal but the little lady who ran the food stand convinced Alan that vampiras were better.  Finally we got chirros filled with chocolate syrup.  As we came around the final corner to the main part of town where the stages were, we were suddenly confronted by the fences that we had ignored on our way down.  Now they were manned by uniformed officers.  Men were to go on one side and women on the other for a security check and we were also supposed to have a ticket. In my best, or worst, Spanish, I said that we lived over there and needed to go this way to get home.  I guess we looked so bewildered that they took pity and let us through.  This part of town was really deserted, after it was not even 10:00, early for the Mexicans.  We walked on along the beach and over the hill and back to the Club where our dingy was waiting for us. 

Tuesday was the second parade.  This one was supposed to start at 4:00 someplace up by the new hotels and come south all the way into the old part of town.  I had not been able to find out if it was going to be the same parade or something different but we were going to go anyway.  After a late lunch, we headed up over the hill and into town again.  Once again the security fences and guards.  This time we had to buy tickets to get in but they were only a few dollars.   Once again, men were sent to one side of the street to enter and women to the other.  We still have not figured that out.  There were more people at this end of town than before but it was still fairly quiet.  Same sound stages, food stands, beer tents and souvenir vendors.  Lots of families with kids running around.  After walking around for a while, we found a convenient wall and settled down to wait for the parade.  And we waited and waited and waited. Since we had such a good spot, we did not want to leave so we sat and played spot the Americans.  Almost any one here would not be out of place in an American city but the Americans themselves stuck out like sore thumbs.  First, they were almost always in couples and always older.  Then there were the shoes, always sensible and almost always ugly, even when not worn with white socks.  Bermuda shorts and baseball caps.  There was the light hair and rosy skin tone.  But there was something else that marked the Americans, something in the attitude, something in the posture.  We have not quite figured out what it is but it is undeniable.

Eventually the parade got to us.  It was the same parade, except that perviously we had been at the beginning of it and this time the kids had all been dancing for several hours and were starting to look a little tired and bedraggled.  The last 3 floats were from Carnival in Rio and featured very professional, beautiful and almost naked dancers but even they had lost a lot of their jiggle and bounce.  But it was still fun.

Once the parade was over we loaded up on beer and street food and wandered along.  By now it was 10pm and time for the bands to start.  Unfortunately each one had the volume cranked up as loud as it would go and with so many bands so close together it was impossible to enjoy any one of them.  We found a different route home around the back side of the hill that was not so steep, very quiet and deserted and peaceful.