Full disclosure, I sort of have a thing for suspension bridges. I grew up in Vancouver, where I spent many a childhood weekend hiking to one of the two overpasses strung through the middle of the city’s temperate rainforests, challenging myself to peer over at the rushing water far below. Some of my fondest memories are among those evergreens (even if it is the last time anyone called me ‘outdoorsy’).
El Rosario’s, by comparison, is pretty tiny, and close to the water, and sits over a placid pond versus an active river. And that’s why it’s so damn charming. Your fear of heights won’t be roused on this bitty bridge, which means you can fully take in the beauty around you: the verdant foliage along the water’s perimeter, the locals taking a midday break, the calming quiet that envelops you. The view is reminiscent of a Japanese garden from some vantage points, which is a comparison I’m surprised to make about a bridge in Mexico, but here we are. Even our driver, Chuy, who spends his days taking tourists to Sinaloan hotspots, is not impervious to the space’s subtle delights.
The bridge ostensibly exists to provide access to a tiny island at one end, but given that there’s basically nothing on it, it’s apparent that this is here primarily for beauty’s sake. And isn’t that as good a reason as any? It’s a nice reminder to let marinate at the tail end of our trip: to seek beauty, to see the beauty in the everyday, to enjoy something for no reason other than that it feels good to take in.