“I don’t know if I read the word or if I just looked at it until it burned itself into my memory, but I knew that whatever or wherever Mazatlán was, was where I wanted to be.”
My journey to Sinaloa began in a small mid-century-style elementary school office on a cold and gloomy Alberta winter day in 1989.
While I was sitting in one of those uncomfortable stackable shell chairs typically found in elementary school offices, I looked up at the front desk that seemed to be a mile above my head, waiting for what or who I do not recall. What I do remember vividly was looking to my left at the 1970s wood-paneled walls and seeing a vividly colored, geometric-shaped poster print—very much on trend with the graphic designs of that era.
The Poster That Sparked My Wander Lust
Not the same poster. I have scoured the internet searching for the exact travel poster I saw in my school office in 1989, but I have come up short every time.
The image blasting into my color-starved corneas was of a daysailer out on the water with a sunset in the background. Aside from the breathtaking color, the main character of the print was the boat. The graphic artist, whose hand I would like to shake, created the image using geometric stacks of shapes to eventually depict the water, the boat, the sails, and the sunset. Another way to describe it would be blocks of color stacked one on top of the other, creating a deeply striking travel poster.
A Window to a World of Possibilities
After gazing in wonder at the boat and the beautiful sunset over the ocean, I finally looked up and spotted the title of the poster that was emblazoned across the top width of the poster in bold, black, and blocky font: the word “Mazatlán.” The word stood in stark but stylish contrast to the rest of the design.
This 1980s poster masterpiece, with its Slim Aarons’ sleekness and Bob Masses color palette, dazzled me and sparked my imagination. I don’t know if I read the word or if I just looked at it until it burned itself into my memory, but I knew that whatever or wherever Mazatlán was, was where I wanted to be.
As I mentioned, my young years were spent in Alberta—Edmonton, Alberta, to be exact. A place that, at least in my opinion, is so nauseatingly cold and depressing. Snow could come even in June, and the dirt-stained snow on the roads would be as gray as the sky.
This was made even more miserable by my neglectful, poveritic childhood. At that moment, the poster was the brightest thing in my day. It created a spark of wonder in my young, impressionable baby brain, that I would someday find this magical Mazatlán, and I would go there!
So after the chaotic 90s, one divorce and 33 years had gone by, when the opportunity to do whatever the fuck I wanted for a change presented itself. I jumped at the chance.
I wanted Mazatlán! My heart was saying go, go now, go now and don’t look back. Sometimes life has a way of kicking you in the ass to get you moving. That being the case me and my sore arse started to plot our exodius road trip across North America. Destination Mazatlán Sinaloa!
Coming Up Next!
How do you decide what to leave behind when you’re ready for drastic change? In the next part of my journey, I’ll take you through the process of letting go—navigating not-so-tough decisions and feeling the thrill of planning an unforgettable road trip of a lifetime. Stay tuned for Sayonara, Stuff! Bring on the Road Trip Shenanigans!
Discover more from Campfire Fiction
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.