Sometime this past summer I started thinking about Baja. Not sure why I hadn’t considered traveling there before, but I began dreaming up a couple of bigger trips I’d like to do in the region, both on water and on land. Before I ended up in Spain I’d been considering the possibility of driving on down and staying for a while. That hasn’t happened yet, but when I found myself with a couple additional weeks of Kafkaesque frustration in waiting on a future dependent on government paperwork and faceless inefficiency, I decided to go for a visit, some recon, a vacation, something sunny and somewhat productive to do in the meantime—call it what you will. No matter what, it seems like Mexico is always a good idea.
Sold the van and then took a bus down from Albuquerque, crossed the border in El Paso, stayed a night in Ciudad Juarez. Powered up on some huevos rancheros in the morning, and spent a day of air travel over to the peninsula. It was one night in a cool little hotel in San Jose del Cabo, and then on to the beach. Didn’t have any plans whatsoever, so bumped across town in a local bus the next morning, hopped in a shuttle headed to the Pacific side, and got off when I saw a dirt road heading down to the ocean.Ended up in the sleepy town of Cerritos ten years too late, but still enjoyed spending a few days in what was once a quintessential Mexican fishing village turned surf spot. The area is currently being hammered by development and habitat destruction, with a vibe trending hard to gringo tourist, but it was a good place to flail around with a surfboard for a few days. The afternoons were hot and humid, and the nights crisp and cool on an empty beach. It was fish tacos and a couple of Indios each evening, and in bed with a book around 8 p.m. listening to the exploding surf through the frond walls of a palapa. A couple good runs, lots of walking around, a few decent waves, and color filled skies at dusk. Super tranquilo.
It was a final Sunday morning surf session, and from there it was a long hot walk back up that dirt road, a back-of-the-pickup ride from some locals, and a bus to Todos Santos where I spent a couple hours poking around town and taking photos.
That evening I arrived at the malecón in La Paz, capital of Baja California Sur, just in time for a stellar sunset and a Christmas concert. I stayed a full week in a little apartment just outside of the central district, and spent my mornings brushing up on grammar at a Spanish school, and afternoons checking out the city and the local beaches.
I probably could have repeated the schedule for a couple more weeks without getting bored. It was great to speak Spanish for a few hours each morning, and then head off on my own around lunchtime. Would have been amazing to have had someone to cruise around with, but between studying and exploring I kept pretty busy. Highlights of the week were runs down to the malecón in the early a.m., getting exactly what I’d hoped from the classes, lots of great food, a couple of sweet hikes, an art walk with local guide Amelie, visits to the local beaches, bike riding on the boardwalk, and basking in lots of sunshine and sunsets—which there may soon be a dearth of in my life. The scenery is amazing down there, the juxtaposition of desert and sea something special.
Check out: Colectivo Tomate
My last day in town was Saturday, and I joined an all-day tour out to Isla Espiritu Santo. I rarely sign up for group tours, but when I do it’s always fun to watch the guides in action, to experience the day from the other side, to hear the same tired guide jokes I’ve personally repeated hundreds of times. And the tour itself was awesome: a morning boat ride out to the island, checking out a frigate rookery, swimming around with sea lions, a ceviche lunch, a lucky encounter with a pod of playful dolphins, and snorkeling with whale sharks to end the day. The activities/ecosystems also seemed to be responsibly managed and protected, which was uplifting to see. That evening there was a big holiday affair on the malecón, complete with loads of food vendors, a night boat parade, and fireworks. An entertaining end to the week.
From there it was up early in the morning and out of La Paz. On to Guadalajara, Juarez, and over an hour of standing in a barely moving line with hundreds of people on the international bridge waiting to process though customs. Once across, it was a couple hours in downtown El Paso, vibrant and lit up for the holidays, and then back to the hyper-depressed reality of bus travel in the US. It was up to Albuquerque again, and over to Amarillo, and into low clouds and gray skies and cold wind and dreams of deserts and oceans and sunshine. It was smiles from thinking about conversations with locals, and all the tacos consumed, and simply knowing that it’s all down there, whether I ever make it back or not.