In March 2016, Debra and I cruised along the Baja Peninsula and Sea of Cortez aboard the Ruby Princess. We visited five ports - San Diego, Cabo San Lucas, Puerto Vallarta, Loreto, and La Paz. We had a wonderful time from start to finish!
Click HERE to read a short introduction to our Mediterranean Holiday.
This story, part of a series, is about our day in La Paz.
Click HERE to read a short introduction to our Mediterranean Holiday.
This story, part of a series, is about our day in La Paz.
Casa de Gobierno—Government House
La Paz, Mexico (March 4, 2016) We arrived in Pichilingue, the cruise port for La Paz, early that morning. It was another hot day—85 degrees when we docked, heading to a high in the 90s. As in Cabo the day before, Debra opted to stay aboard the Ruby Princess while I ventured into the city.
Princess offered a dozen or so excursions, including horseback riding, snorkeling, and a whale shark encounter. I opted for an easy-going, self-guided tour of downtown La Paz, with transportation both ways included.
A scant thirteen miles separated Pichilingue from La Paz, which our bus covered in 20 minutes or so. As we cruised along the MEX-11 highway, I had sweeping views of the turquoise waters of the Sea of Cortez on one side and the rugged expanse of an arid landscape on the other. It was a captivating environment that felt tranquil and awe-inspiring.
It was also the perfect photo op, but our driver did not stop…or even slow down. Instead, he kept a steady foot on the accelerator, and soon after we arrived in La Paz, he dropped us on the Malecon, a picturesque seaside promenade lined with palm trees that stretched nearly three miles along the city’s waterfront.
As I made ready to step off the bus, the driver handed me a tourist map. The city’s attractions and landmarks were clearly marked, and in short order I identified a half-dozen points of interest I would see. I’ll share my trio of favorites starting with...
Princess offered a dozen or so excursions, including horseback riding, snorkeling, and a whale shark encounter. I opted for an easy-going, self-guided tour of downtown La Paz, with transportation both ways included.
A scant thirteen miles separated Pichilingue from La Paz, which our bus covered in 20 minutes or so. As we cruised along the MEX-11 highway, I had sweeping views of the turquoise waters of the Sea of Cortez on one side and the rugged expanse of an arid landscape on the other. It was a captivating environment that felt tranquil and awe-inspiring.
It was also the perfect photo op, but our driver did not stop…or even slow down. Instead, he kept a steady foot on the accelerator, and soon after we arrived in La Paz, he dropped us on the Malecon, a picturesque seaside promenade lined with palm trees that stretched nearly three miles along the city’s waterfront.
As I made ready to step off the bus, the driver handed me a tourist map. The city’s attractions and landmarks were clearly marked, and in short order I identified a half-dozen points of interest I would see. I’ll share my trio of favorites starting with...
Cathedral de Nuestra Senora de la Paz—Our Lady of Peace Cathedral
If you’ve read other stories I’ve written, you know…
I LOVE CHURCHES!
…and I visited as many as I could when I traveled.
Our Lady of Peace Cathedral, which stood on the site of an 18th century Jesuit mission, was constructed during the second half of the 19th century in the neoclassical style—a style that “emphasized simplicity, symmetry, and proportion, with clean and understated lines.”
As I gazed at the twin bell towers, I couldn’t help but think they stood as guardians over the old church—150-foot-tall sentinels of faith that kept vigil over parishioners and decades-old memories alike.
As I gazed at the twin bell towers, I couldn’t help but think they stood as guardians over the old church—150-foot-tall sentinels of faith that kept vigil over parishioners and decades-old memories alike.
Our Lady of Peace is a modestly sized cathedral compared to some of the grand ones I’ve seen in Europe. Still, the curved arches that soared high overhead made the interior appear spacious—opened, uncrowded, and airy. Wooden pews stood in quiet rows, and the sunlight that streamed through the stained-glass windows brought life to mosaics of blue, red, and gold panels.
The walls were adorned with traditional religious artwork—saints, angels, the Virgin Mary, and more. Many of these pieces, I learned, were brought there from abandoned missions throughout the area.
Our Lady of Peace was serene, and a lovely place to visit.
Our Lady of Peace was serene, and a lovely place to visit.
Folkloric Dancing
As I walked along the Malecon, I heard the lively sounds of mariachi music, and quickly I learned why: An ensemble of men and women were performing a traditional folk dance of Mexico.
The women were dressed in brightly colored flowing skirts with matching blouses. Their red high-heeled shoes—zapatos de folklorico—were specifically designed to create a percussive sound as they danced. Another striking feature was their makeup, which was “designed to ensure their expressions are visible and striking, even from a distance.”
The men’s attire was understated in comparison—white pants, blue shirt, red bandana, Sombrero de Vaquero.
The men’s attire was understated in comparison—white pants, blue shirt, red bandana, Sombrero de Vaquero.
It’s impossible to capture movement in a still photo…but the photo above will, I think, give you a sense of the motion I saw: The women twirled their skirts in graceful arcs that mimicked “flowers awakening with elegance,” while the men stepped sharply with little body movement, their posture upright and strong.
I read that each dance told a story of love, celebration, nature, or history. The story I saw seemed to be celebratory…but who knows. No matter, though, because their performance—whatever the story—was captivating to watch!
I read that each dance told a story of love, celebration, nature, or history. The story I saw seemed to be celebratory…but who knows. No matter, though, because their performance—whatever the story—was captivating to watch!
Casa de Gobierno—Government House
The Government House, built in 1861, originally housed government offices, a municipal house, and even a public jail. After various transformations, it was more recently repurposed as a cultural center.
I visited the Government House to explore an exhibition, “The Ranch, Root of Identity”—an interpretation through art of a traditional ranch in Baja California Sur.
You might notice the kids at the bottom of the photo above—kids as in baby goats. There was a small herd whose cowbells (yes, cowbells, not goat bells) rang as they walked back and forth. Occasionally they bleated, maaah maaah. They were there, I was told, as part of the exhibit and…to invite visitors within.
Cute, huh?!
Inside, I slowly moved past a series of paintings and montages, pausing in front of each to observe the details, colors, and brushwork. They conjured a feeling of a time-honored life on a ranch in Baja California Sur. Many of the paintings, like the one over my right shoulder (it was titled A La Fiesta) in the left-hand photo below, were created by Carlos Cesar Diaz Castro, a visual artist from La Paz whose work “celebrated the natural beauty of his homeland and the dignity of rural life.” The cowboy bassist I stood next to—a life-size cut-out who awakened a vision of ranch life—was crafted by Castro, as well.
You might notice the kids at the bottom of the photo above—kids as in baby goats. There was a small herd whose cowbells (yes, cowbells, not goat bells) rang as they walked back and forth. Occasionally they bleated, maaah maaah. They were there, I was told, as part of the exhibit and…to invite visitors within.
Cute, huh?!
Inside, I slowly moved past a series of paintings and montages, pausing in front of each to observe the details, colors, and brushwork. They conjured a feeling of a time-honored life on a ranch in Baja California Sur. Many of the paintings, like the one over my right shoulder (it was titled A La Fiesta) in the left-hand photo below, were created by Carlos Cesar Diaz Castro, a visual artist from La Paz whose work “celebrated the natural beauty of his homeland and the dignity of rural life.” The cowboy bassist I stood next to—a life-size cut-out who awakened a vision of ranch life—was crafted by Castro, as well.
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There was a recreation of a Chiname—a small house characterized by stucco walls, bright paint, and tiled floor, with a small kitchen (pictured in the right-hand photo above) and bed. On a side note, for her privacy, I masked the face of the lady in my photo; she was a fellow passenger on Ruby Princess who lingered too long as I framed the image I wanted to shoot.
I mentioned the historical transformations of the Government House. Well, several years after I visited La Paz, the Government House was transformed yet again—this time into a museum, Museo de Arte, which opened November 2020.
I missed not having Debra at my side as I explored La Paz, a charming town surrounded by an abundance of natural beauty. She would have loved to stroll the Malecon, and I know the folkloric dancers would have delighted her, as they did me.
Still, I treasured my experiences—the sounds I heard and the sights I saw—a fascinating mix of the city’s rich history, vibrant culture, and unique architecture.
I mentioned the historical transformations of the Government House. Well, several years after I visited La Paz, the Government House was transformed yet again—this time into a museum, Museo de Arte, which opened November 2020.
I missed not having Debra at my side as I explored La Paz, a charming town surrounded by an abundance of natural beauty. She would have loved to stroll the Malecon, and I know the folkloric dancers would have delighted her, as they did me.
Still, I treasured my experiences—the sounds I heard and the sights I saw—a fascinating mix of the city’s rich history, vibrant culture, and unique architecture.