Pages:
1
2 |
koolaukid
Newbie
Posts: 22
Registered: 12-1-2011
Member Is Offline
|
|
Christmas visit questions trip report
Just returned from two weeks cruising Baja in a rental car with my daughter. We got a tremendous amount of suggestions and help from the group as
well as a gentleman named Derald who allowed me to phone him. As we had never really been into Baja the support provided a certain amount of
confidence before we plunged off into the unknown. As it turned out, we never had any problem finding accommodations anywhere we went, my major
concern. Thank you Baja Nomad!
****************************
Dana and I decided to go to Baja over her Christmas vacation. We flew into LAX arriving about 8:30, took a bus to Union station and after a late
dinner retired for the night. Tomorrow we catch the train to San Diego, cross the border where we rent a car and head south.
https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Ri5-u9PG3bqs3EaDJT-cyd...
[Edited on 1-5-2012 by koolaukid]
|
|
Ken Cooke
Elite Nomad
Posts: 8947
Registered: 2-9-2004
Location: Riverside, CA
Member Is Online
Mood: Pole Line Road postponed due to injury
|
|
Sounds like you had a good time
Where did you both go??
|
|
Ateo
Elite Nomad
Posts: 5901
Registered: 7-18-2011
Member Is Offline
|
|
Don't tell the world how great Baja is!!! Its our secret! Just kidding. Glad you had a good time.
|
|
koolaukid
Newbie
Posts: 22
Registered: 12-1-2011
Member Is Offline
|
|
Ensenada
The next day we rose bright and early to catch the 8:30 train to San Diego. Neither of us had ever ridden Amtrak and we were looking forward to the
experience. We walked to Union Station, a grand old train station styled with southwestern/Mexican flourishes. Security at the station was very
heavy, I asked one of the heavily armed policemen why, she told me that it was a seasonal thing with the Christmas crowds. After a comfortable 3 hour
ride we got off at in San Diego and caught the trolley to the border. The border was chaos with a line of cars stretched as far as the eye could see,
crossing over as a pedestrian was easier and quicker but there was a fair amount of pedestrian traffic and without being able to read signs it was
hard to tell where to go and how to get there. After crossing the border and securing a Mexican tourist permit we caught a cab for our intended
destination, the Budget car rental place in Rio Zonas, downtown Tijuana. The first cab drive drove in circles trying to find the place, our trip
complicated by the long line of cars waiting to cross the border into the US. Ultimately we had to change cab drivers when ours gave up, the second
found the place easily, as it turned out we were very close. Apparently Mexicans love their paperwork, it took over an hour to rent the car. They
didn't have the stick shift I had reserved and interestingly enough the rental rate was lower, even including insurance than I had been quoted by
Kayak, never had that happen before. After the inspection (making sure the spare tire and tire change gear was operable we finally left and dropped
into absolutely crazy downtown Tijuana traffic. Again our routing was complicated by the long line of cars waiting to cross the border into the US.
Although we saw signs directing us to Mexican Highway 1 for Ensenada we were unable to get into the correct lane and could only follow the afternoon
sun to the west, which I knew would take us to the coast, my plan from there was to follow the coast south from there. It ended up taking us almost
an hour to clear Tijuana but ultimately we found the coast, more by accident than design, the road turned into the toll road south and it was easier
going from there, although with the drivers there encroaching into our lane, changing 3 lanes at a time and the large disparity between the fast and
slow cars the drive was interesting, if not a little frightening.
By the time we reached Ensenada it was almost 4PM, Mexican dinnertime. We walked out of the tourist area close to the malecon, getting 4-5 blocks in
from the coast meant the area was much more local, none of the cruise ship riffraff penetrated that far into town. We found an outside diner that was
mobbed with locals, it turned out to be a fish taco joint and the tacos were spectacular. There were several types of salsas, mayonnaise dressing,
onions relishes and pepper condiments in dishes on the tables, everyone reaching over and fixing up their taco to their liking. Dana was raving about
how delicious the tacos were and they were excellent. We stopped after 3 each, hoping to save some room for dinner. After finding a hotel and
checking in, we walked the main street and found another marisco restaurant, Dana had the fried oysters and I had an incredible fish, clam, octopus
and shrimp cerviche with corn tortillas. Although not very hungry after the fish tacos a couple of hours earlier the meal was so good we were able to
finish it. It was quite cold on the walk home, after a hot shower we both went to sleep about 9PM. We laughed about how good the food was and
speculated what was to come. The adventure had just begun.
https://picasaweb.google.com/115588061900429058055/Ensenada?...
[Edited on 1-5-2012 by koolaukid]
|
|
BajaBlanca
Select Nomad
Posts: 13197
Registered: 10-28-2008
Location: La Bocana, BCS
Member Is Offline
|
|
easier to host the photos on photobucket and then where it says image below or next to the photo, paste it directly here.
good luck !
|
|
Ken Cooke
Elite Nomad
Posts: 8947
Registered: 2-9-2004
Location: Riverside, CA
Member Is Online
Mood: Pole Line Road postponed due to injury
|
|
Facebook is a great place to post and then link images for free. Thats what I have been doing for 2 yrs. now.
|
|
Ateo
Elite Nomad
Posts: 5901
Registered: 7-18-2011
Member Is Offline
|
|
Welcome to the world of bajanomad picture posting. Get a photobucket account. You can't post any picture from a modern camera thru the photo upload
button in the message post center. You gotta post to an off site photo hosting site, reduce size of picture, then post the link into your message on
bajanomad. Search bajanomad "search" and you may find more help.
|
|
koolaukid
Newbie
Posts: 22
Registered: 12-1-2011
Member Is Offline
|
|
El Rosario
We were still a little fragged from the flight and weird hours but after a good 11 hours of sleep, we left the hotel about 8:30, again walking inland
away from the tourist area. We found a breakfast place that was populated with locals, Dana had the quesadillas which were made with some kind of
unprocessed cheese which was chewy, strong tasting and delightful. She also had a fruit smoothie. I ordered huevos Mexicanas, eggs with chili
peppers. While waiting, we watched the waitress serving other tables. I asked about some of the meals she was carrying, despite the language
difficulties I found out she was serving beef burritos which looked completely different from any burrito I had previously experienced. When our
meals came I discovered she had brought me the burritos I was asking about. Not wanting to make a fuss I tied into the burritos with salsa which were
pretty good but a few minutes later she also brought me an order of huevos Mexicanas which she gracefully took back. Dana's fruit smoothie had milk
and after her bout with food poisoning in Cambodia she was a little gun shy of milk products. I encouraged her but she would only drink it if I had
some, reasoning that if we both got sick she would at least have company. After another pretty good meal (although nothing like the fish tacos which
we both considered returning for) we walked the downtown area, no tourists in sight, locals would talk to us, but with the cameras and backpacks it
was pretty obvious we were tourists. We passed some obvious prostitutes working a corner in boots and miniskirts (at 9 in the morning) ultimately
making it back to the malecon (beachfront promenade) and finding the fish market. There was one other sight in town I wanted to see, the hotel opened
by Jack Dempsey where Rita Hayworth was discovered. On the way we passed an ATV rental shop where I had rented ATVs with a friend about 8 years ago.
This was as far south as I had ever been and Dana's first trip to Mexico.
On the way back to the hotel we passed several cerviche and fish taco stands but still stuffed after the massive breakfast we were unable to indulge.
Checking out of the hotel, we cleared Ensenada and headed out about 11AM. Heading south signs of civilization gradually gave way to agriculture but
this too diminished until we were in a mountainous desert. The road dipped and curved, no shoulders and frequently no lane markers meant staying in
our lane became more and more difficult, adding to the difficulty as I couldn't read the road signs. The area was stark and beautiful, we climbed
ridges, dropped into valleys and ran along dry riverbeds. Towns became smaller and less frequent, we stopped to check out a local market which was
interesting, most of the stuff they sold was used, it looked like a garage sale gone to seed. As the only tourists there we attracted a fair amount
of attention. The food looked alluring but the sanitation was iffy although the people were very open and friendly. Ultimately we reached El
Rosario, the last town before the long desert stretch without towns or gas stations. Here we stopped for the night, secured a room and ran into a
restaurant owned by a California expat who made us a terrific shrimp c-cktail followed by ling cod with generous helping of garlic. Dana being the
foodie she is pointed out the dish could have used some capers. There were several people eating who were heading in different directions and they
shared their experience and knowledge. By the time we were finished it was dark and with all the warnings I had heard about driving Baja in the dark
I was concerned. Sure enough we ended up following a truck that didn't have any lights, when oncoming traffic approached the driver would pull off
the road resulting in a massive dust cloud. Even though the drive back to our room was short, it was tiring trying to stay on top of the situation in
the dark, with the dust obscuring our vision and knowing somewhere out there was a truck driving without lights. It was good to make the hotel.
https://picasaweb.google.com/115588061900429058055/ElRosario...
[Edited on 1-5-2012 by koolaukid]
|
|
koolaukid
Newbie
Posts: 22
Registered: 12-1-2011
Member Is Offline
|
|
Bahia de Los Angeles
This morning we departed El Rosario, intended destination Bahia de Los Angeles on the Sea of Cortez. The room last night was right on the highway and
despite the warnings against driving at night there was truck traffic through town all night, jake-brakes on the diesel engines waking me what seemed
every 15 minutes or so. Then, as El Rosario is nothing more than an evening stop, people started saddling up and departing about 4AM slamming doors,
laughing and honking horns. By the time I blearily rose at 7:30, the hotel was almost empty. Unlike the room in Ensenada this room didn't have a
heater and the morning was cold, so cold condensation from our body heat obscured the windows! The section between El Rosario and the turnoff for
Bahia de Los Angeles is the longest section without gas, the road winding through mountains then desert, only light traffic going either way.
Although the road continued as a narrow two lane road without shoulders and frequently with significant drops once off the asphalt, we made good time,
probably averaging about 80 miles an hour, the car shuddering and dancing in response to wind gusts from tractor trailers flying the opposite
direction. The road at first climbed until we were in the clouds, then slowly lost altitude as it wound toward the Sea of Cortez. After about 200
kilometers we made the turnoff at Punta Prieta, a forlorn truckstop without gas but with a large Tecate sign welcoming a single double rig stopped at
the bar. The spur into BdLA wound downhill for about 65 kilometers until we could finally see the azure waters of the bay. Arriving in BdLA, we
toured the town, a ramshackle collection of permanent mobile homes and small huts housing entire families. We scanned the town looking for any reason
to stay, but the hostels were expensive ($65!) and empty, the wind too cold to sit outside or go to the beach, no ATVs for rent (Dana wants to try
one) and every restaurant open but like the hotels, empty. The guide book recommended a place named Guillermo's, right on the water and with a grey
whale skeleton immediately outside the restaurant. It was about noon so we decided to stay for lunch. $5 for a fish taco and $10 for lobster
burritos. They had trouble breaking a $100 bill and the waiter had to go store to store collecting favors and change until they could settle up with
us with a combination of US and Mexican currency. After lunch and reevaluating the town we decided not to stay.
The Baja Nomad website is an online group of Baja enthusiasts, they recommended staying in BdLA but with the double whammy of the drug war scare and
the poor American economy business is stagnant, all the owners crying the blues and desperate for customers. Despite this the food and accommodations
are outrageous for Baja, rooms at Guillermo's starting at $65, we didn't even bother trying to negotiate better rates. The next big town on our
intended route is Guerrero Negro, named after an American whaler that sank at the mouth of the lagoon in the late 1800's. After lunch it was 12:30,
the sun sets about 4:30. We figured we could make it before dark and departed in a hurry. On the way to our next stop we discovered another local
fish taco place at the entrance to the town of Jesus Maria, last stop before Guerrero Negro. Although we had recently eaten lunch, memories of the
fish tacos at Fenix made us stop to try the fare which turned out to be pretty good. Dana and I ate while rating the food. Assuming Fenix in
Ensenada is a 9 on a scale of 10 (we didn't know whether there are better fish tacos out there but Fenix was pretty damned good), the tacos at BdLA
were about a 4 and the tacos at Jesus Maria are probably an 8. Adding price to the equation dropped the BdLA rating even lower as they were $5 each,
Fenix tacos were priced at about $.80 each and Jesus Maria tacos even cheaper than that.
While leaving BdLA, we saw a coyote and a small group of burros by the side of the road. There were also memorials to people that had died on the
road, frequently as we left Ensenada then gradually decreasing in numbers the further south we got. Some of the memorials are quite elaborate with
wrought iron fences, miniature churches fashioned out of concrete with tiled grounds and sometimes brass plates embossed with the names and other
information of the deceased. Some of the memorials are nothing more than simple wooden crosses but it was obvious they were all cared for, frequently
embellished with fresh flower wreaths.
More about the road. Although the road bobbed and weaved through the hills and ravines, people would pass around blind curves and over the tops of
hills. It scared me watching some of the antics these drivers attempted. Additionally, while the road is called Mexican Highway 1 and traffic flowed
between 75 and 85 miles an hour many of the towns had gnarly speed bumps, sometimes there were warnings but sometimes there were none. I had read
about people hitting these at speed and occasionally breaking tie rods, the passengers heads bouncing off the ceiling. Although I was watching for
them they were easily missed and sometimes we almost did four wheel skids trying to rein in our speed before slamming into them at warp speed. We
also discovered the reason for the warnings about driving at night. During the day the sun heats the asphalt, at night cows and other animals lie on
the road in the dark enjoying the warmth. As many of the animals are domesticated, they don't flee from approaching cars and several people warned us
about risking a night drive and being rewarded by clipping a cow which apparently does substantial damage to cars occasionally even killing the
drivers.
We made Guerrero Negro on the border of Baja Norte and Baja Sur about half an hour before dark and checked into the Hotel Ignacio. The rooms are
about $30, open electric sockets, peeling paint and worn furnishings. As I write this we are watching Mexican TV, violent, overtly sexual and
graphic. It isn't yet 6PM but fully dark outside, every passing car proudly announcing their presence with their horn. Ahhh, Baja.
https://picasaweb.google.com/115588061900429058055/BahiaDeLo...
|
|
koolaukid
Newbie
Posts: 22
Registered: 12-1-2011
Member Is Offline
|
|
San Ignacio
While boning up on Baja in preparation for the trip all reports seemed to indicate that the weather would be warm during the day and possibly down to
the 50s at night. As a result I only brought one pair of long pants and 3 pairs of long sleeved shirts. Since we've been here it's been unseasonably
cold and today with the addition of a biting wind, all the locals are running around in sweaters or jacket. I've been wearing the same clothes since
our arrival and due to our schedule, haven't had a chance to do laundry. I'm hoping that changes in the next day or so. My clothes smell like a dead
fish wrapped in a gym sock that fell under a chicken coop.
Last night we checked into a hotel on the main strip of Guerrero Negro, they advertised wi-fi but it was only available if I sat on a bench out front,
the wind and dust absolutely bone chilling. When I pointed this out to the girl at the front desk and asked to be moved to a room with internet
access language difficulties struck again. Making hand signs, putting money in her hand then indicated she needed to give it back took a long time
but she finally got the message. As we were the only guests she was reluctant to allow us to leave but we agreed to compromise, she gave us half the
tariff back and we found another place right down the street, the Cowboy Hotel which I can recommend for the rooms and the restaurant where we had a
late snack. First shots, beautiful downtown Guerrero Negro, third shot the salt mining operation, apparently the largest in the world.
Leaving town the wind continued to increase until we were in a mini dust storm, the wind coming directly from the side in a broad reach. This added
to the difficulties staying on the narrow two lane road. Additionally our car is a Nissan Tiida, approximately equivalent to a Sentra. About 100
miles out of Ensenada the "check engine" light came on. Somewhere in BdLA we picked up something and the left front tire has a slow leak and probably
due to hours of singing along at 140 kph the engine also has a obnoxiously loud tappet. I just hope the thing holds together for another 7 days.
We decided to make this a short day and stop in San Ignacio, one of the towns where the Spanish Jesuits had built a mission and one of the best
surviving examples. On the way into town we were stopped at a military checkpoint, I guess looking for drugs. We've been stopped 3 times now and my
absolute lack of Spanish confounds them to the point where they get frustrated and just wave us on. I'm hoping our luck holds, no one can look as
ignorant as I can. They say "hola", I say "aloha". Neither of us any clue what is being said but we've gotten away with nothing but a cursory
search. We have seen people having to empty their trucks and RVs but so far ignorance is bliss.
So we reach San Ignacio after about 2 hours, a surprising oasis complete with palm trees in the middle of a desert where it goes sometimes years
between rain. The middle of town has a pretty good sized pond and lush plant life. San Ignacio also has one of the best surviving examples of
Spanish mission. The church fronts the central plaza a ubiquitous feature of many Spanish towns we've seen both here and in Peru. The mission was
apparently started in 1716 and finished in 1760 and must have been a wondrous sight to the indigenous natives who were pressed into labor prior to
being knocked off by foreigner introduced measles, smallpox, etc, hmmm, it seems we've heard this song before. When we arrived there was a school
band playing and about 100 kids dancing, singing and knocking down pinatas, it was absolute bedlam but in a good way. The town is located in a ravine
and we climbed one of the surrounding hills for a better view. On the way we discovered a gentleman sorting dates from the palms, we couldn't
understand each other but when I took his photo and showed it to him he got a kick out of it and offered us some dates which were just about dry
enough for market. The casa where we are staying is probably over 100 years old, there are photos of travelers on horses staying here before the
paved road.
This evening we walked the town and had dinner at a local cafe. I've taken to selecting menu items at random or pointing to something someone else is
eating and haven't had a bad choice yet. Dana had tacos dorado which I thought would be fish but was beef of some sort. Walking back in the
gathering darkness there were children playing unaccompanied in the plaza and I thought about the comparison between the safety and innocence here in
town compared to Hawaii where we don't dare let our children out of our sight. Walking through town everyone was friendly, many tried to talk to us,
we are becoming used to the guileless congeniality and good nature of the locals.
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, we expect to make Mulege and hole up there over Christmas expecting to avoid any difficulty finding open accommodations
over the holiday.
https://picasaweb.google.com/115588061900429058055/SanIgnaci...
|
|
koolaukid
Newbie
Posts: 22
Registered: 12-1-2011
Member Is Offline
|
|
Loreto
The inn where we stayed in San Ignacio was fascinating. It was purchased in 2003 by Juanita Ames, an American woman who interviewed and organized the
oral history of the town's inhabitants. She structured the memories into a document in the form of a three ring binder. I read until late into the
night captivated by the stories. Through her writing I could imagine the hardscrabble life of the town's early settlers, the tragedies of flood, fire
and drownings in the periodic torrents that inundated the deep arroyo where the town is located, some survived by climbing the date palms and using
their belts to strap themselves and their children to the tree trunks. The people talked about their recollection of events like when the Mexican
revolution swept through town, some of the revolutionaries taking the opportunity to kidnap women, the women who fought them off and impromptu firing
squads, the decision of who lived and died made by teenagers based on whim. Intermittent episodes of rabid coyotes running through the town and the
emotion as the townspeople had to deal with the dogs that had defended them. The 13 day trip to Mulege before the paved road, existing on turtle meat
during WWI as chickens too valuable to slaughter, the first Chinese, Germans and French being dropped off by ship and making their way to San Ignacio,
each eventually becoming woven into the fabric of the municipality (there is a Hotel Fong at the edge of town). The digging and maintenance of the
aqueduct to bring water from the oasis to the fields, carrying water to the houses a daily chore. The aqueduct still exists to this day and one
stretch of it runs right through the courtyard of Casa Leree. First photos, a timeworn rocking horse complete with decaying saddle, early farming
implements on the wall behind and a portion of the aqueduct in the courtyard complete with crude toy boats. What stories this courtyard would tell.
Juanita has also has put up a website;
http://casaleree.com/index.html
Next shot, the pool at the center of the oasis, both a blessing for the fields that provided sustenance and a curse for the periodic floods that
destroyed the town.
The following day was Christmas Eve, we planned to find somewhere to stay for two days avoiding potential problems locating lodging on Christmas Day.
After leaving San Ignacio we followed Mexican Highway 1 through the desert until it dropped precipitously toward the water and Santa Rosalia. Santa
Rosalia was settled by the French and is the site of an enormous copper mine. Approaching the coast and larger towns we again started to see the
roadside shrines. In photo 6 there were several at the edge of a high cliff, without guardrails the drop off at the edge of the road unforgiving.
Looking down from the top the remains of demolished vehicles could be seen far below in the gully. Driving this section was a little spooky, it
wasn't hard to imagine the terror of the occupants as their cars plunged over the edge.
Santa Rosalia is wedged into a narrow arroyo, many of the buildings displaying French roots. In the center of town is the old church interestingly
enough built of metal as sort of a kit, apparently originally destined for French holdings in Africa but diverted to Santa Rosalia. It was
fascinating to discover that the church was designed by Gustave Eiffel, designer of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. On Christmas Eve the town was in party
mode, loud music blaring from every shop, people shopping, laughing and eating. Continuing our new custom of selecting meals at random we stopped at
a roadside stand and ordered what another patron was eating, turned out to be birria, a tomato based beef stew which garnished with salsa, onions,
cilantro, a mayonnaise based sauce, chilis and what we are finding to be a common addition to meals of this sort, radishes. I've been coming down
with a sore throat from the cold weather and the soup was not only tangy and excellent, but perfect for the temperature and my throat. Dana had
birria tacos made from the same basic ingredients less the soup and with the addition of tortillas. Of course the soup came with all you could eat
tortillas too. Muay bueno.
Next stop, our intended destination of Mulege (mu-LAY-hee, I generated laughs from the locals with my initial attempts at pronunciation) another
desert oasis. However after touring the town we didn't think it had enough to offer for a two day stay so after filling up at the Pemex station we
hit the road again. I had read in several road reports cases of swindling at the government owned gas stations so each time we've filled up we watch
the attendants and the meter like hawks. So far so good. I do tip the attendants each time as I've been asking them to check the tire pressure due
to the slow leak. The coastline south of Mulege is gorgeous as the road dips and sways along the coast, offshore islands, vacant coves and pristine
beaches common as corn tortillas at meals.
Finally we reached Loreto, the original capital of California. We checked into the Junipero Hotel located between the main boulevard and the Spanish
mission. I thought it would be a good idea to ask for a room on the side away from the road thinking it would be quieter but had forgotten about
Christmas Eve ceremonies and Christmas Mass. The bells rang all night and all the next morning as the church plaza became the focus of activities.
It is now late afternoon and the ringing has finally subsided. We are probably about 50 yards from the bell tower, closing windows and doors doesn't
really help much. Stopping here for a couple of days is a welcome respite from traveling and we did some laundry in the sink, only socks and
underwear but we were at the point where if we threw clothes against the wall they would stick. I also purchased some Amoxicillin and that has done
wonders for my sore throat. It was a good thing we bypassed Mulege as there are precious few open dining establishments even in the larger town.
https://picasaweb.google.com/115588061900429058055/MulegeLor...
[Edited on 1-5-2012 by koolaukid]
|
|
koolaukid
Newbie
Posts: 22
Registered: 12-1-2011
Member Is Offline
|
|
La Paz
Following an afternoon nap and about 14 hours of sleep in the last 24 I'm feeling much better. Dana and I went out trolling for Christmas dinner
which started with a smokin' fish and clam cerviche followed by possibly the most indifferent dishes of the trip, Dana had lobster thermidor and I had
lobster coronado. While competent both dishes seemed tepid and uninspired after the meals we've been having and frankly I felt a little shortchanged.
We whined returning to the hotel, the meal we thought would be a sure thing turned out to be anything but. That night we both turned in early, our
two days in Loreto coming to an end, mercifully Christmas Mass doing the same.
The next day we followed a portion of the El Camino Real into the mountains to the town of San Javier. The Jesuit missions were placed so that they
were about a days ride apart, the road showing it's heritage by twisting and winding along the side of the mountain and up narrow arroyos, obviously
laid out for horse traffic and forcibly adapted to motor vehicles. Only the first few miles were paved, after that it was a rough dirt road, a thick
plume of dust trailed the car, our offering to the gods. We reached the town which featured a pretty little mission whose distinguishing feature was
imported stained glass windows, an artistic flourish in an otherwise unremarkable church in a mundane town off the tourist track. Photo 7, the Keeper
of the Commode, after using the urinal this guy wanted to charge 5 pesos for the privilege. I took 3 shots of him and told him the tariff was 15
pesos, after deducting the toilet charge he still owed me 10. He wasn't amused but I insisted on being paid, eventually he relented and we both
walked away in feigned disgust. This was the first time anyone had tried nonsense of this sort on the whole trip. I wondered how much he makes at
this scam.
A few miles from the main highway nestled into a narrow gully more date palms betrayed a tiny stream whose valley walls were adorned with some very
basic cave paintings. The water came out of the rocks flowed a few hundred yards then disappeared back into the ground. There were fish in the
water, obviously the flow endured droughts and must have been a god send to travelers.
I'm getting the hang of driving customs here, an interesting practice is to flash hazard blinkers at oncoming traffic to warn of upcoming danger,
frequently that consists of cows on or very near the road. However some customs and signs are simply undecipherable. We ended the day in La Paz.
https://picasaweb.google.com/115588061900429058055/LaPaz?aut...
|
|
koolaukid
Newbie
Posts: 22
Registered: 12-1-2011
Member Is Offline
|
|
La Paz
After the tiny towns and villages we've visited on the way south La Paz was a bit of a shock. Instead of cruising the main streets, assessing the
whole town and selecting a place to stay we had to rely on the guidebook to choose from literally hundreds of choices. La Paz is the first of several
large towns we'll visit in the southernmost third of Baja, population well north of 200,000. The pattern of street food versus more established
restaurants continued as we ate in a restaurant near the hotel that was suggested by several people we spoke to. After another unremarkable meal we
retired early in preparation for an early departure. I've got to learn to follow my instincts instead of accepting what other people think is
appropriate for tourists. The hotel was filled with a group preparing to kayak Espiritu Santo on a 7 day trip. We were instantly jealous and resolved
to come back sometime to do the same.
The next day on the way out of town we found our way to the local market, a collection of small shops and vendors, whole sides of beef available for
purchase. We purchased a meal of empanadas and licuada, a local version of a fruit smoothie. The licuada was tasty but the empanada was fried
instead of baked, greasy, salty. limp and nasty. It was so bad that while hungry I couldn't finish even one and we ended up throwing the rest out.
The slow leak continues to plague us and I stopped at a Pemex station to air up, while the attendant performed this duty I watched him read the
pressure in psi then measure with a metric gauge. He released pressure until the the tires were almost flat, I could push a fender and the whole car
would wobble on the flaccid sidewalls. Explaining the difference between the two scales was far beyond my limited Spanish and the attendant defended
his work adamantly. Even pointing to the manufacturers recommendation while telling him " psi, pounds" and pointing to his guage and telling him "not
psi, pounds" he didn't get it. Ultimately wishing to avoid having to point out his failure to grasp a basic component of his job, we drove out on
deflated tires, if we were looking to drive in sand we were set but the day promised at least some extended high speed cruising. I wondered how many
tires a day this guy deflated well below safe range. Down the street we stopped at a llanteria, the local tire repair shop. Baja must be tough on
tires as every single town we've visited has had at least one if not a dozen of these shops and momentarily I wondered if the gas station attendant
and the llanteria were affiliated, as they offered obviously complimentary services, low tire pressure destroying tires and the llanteria fixing the
problem. The tire pressure was quickly sorted out and we finally were on the road. I should've given him the empanadas.
Trying to clear town, we again got lost burrowing deeply into local neighborhoods where we attracted a fair amount of attention, obviously not too
many gringos make it that deep into the barrio. Or was it my driving? It takes a fair effort to get lost with a GPS in the car but we managed it,
again being forced to simply drive west until we found the highway while blowing through alto signs and bouncing over invisible but omnipresent topes,
the vertical speed bumps, local variety commonly made of metal pipe simply laid across the road and masked by dust and shadows.
The road south of La Pas is a four lane highway with center median I think the first we've seen and splits about 30 kilometers south of town, one fork
taking the West Cape, the other the East Cape but both the ends of a big loop. Shortly after the fork the road again becomes single lane as it winds
through the mountain and we reached our first destination. El Triunfo was a tremendously productive silver mine that supported a mining population of
about 10,000 until a major hurricane filled the mines with water. Now a ghost town, it's main claim to fame a piano museum. At the time of the
town's heyday, piano music was considered the height of culture and with the easy flow of cash, a number of pianos and musicians were brought in. We
toured some of the mining structures, I simply cannot resist a ghost town but scarred from being forced to endure piano lessons as a child we decided
to forego the piano museum.
Next stop Los Barrillos, at one time a fishing village now a major concentration of retired expats, their mansions lining the beach and perched on the
choicest spots on the hills. The place was chock full of cotton-tops cruising around on ATVs. Because Dana wanted to try one and because of the
almost total freedom in Mexico we decided to stay the evening and rented an ATV which we drove through town, on the beach and took into the mountains
following an arroyo that ended in a small pool and waterfall. The area was absolutely beautiful and Dana was having a blast. Afterwards we ripped
down the beach and took some trails to the top of some close hills until the temperature dropped with the coming of evening. That night, we again
trolled for dinner suggestions, everyone suggested a local marisco/steakhouse, obviously the choice of the expats looking for something familiar.
Instead we chose a small taceria near the entrance to town and had a blast with the owners who made dinner suggestions and sweetly shared how to eat
along with the normal day to day conversation which is the meat of any personal relationship. If only I could understand what was being said.
https://picasaweb.google.com/115588061900429058055/LosBarril...
Dana learning how to ride an ATV, deep in an arroyo behind Los Barrillos.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_rixmE4FSqk&context=C3669...
|
|
koolaukid
Newbie
Posts: 22
Registered: 12-1-2011
Member Is Offline
|
|
San Jose del Cabo
As additional inducement to rent his ATVs the owner of the ATV company got us discounted rooms in a brand new hotel upstairs from his shop. It was an
interesting setup on the second floor of a strip mall that contained a bank, a laundromat, the ATV rental agency and some other small shops. The room
was pretty cool, brand new, marble counters with full kitchen, glass doors and really high end wood cabinets, a sweet bachelor pad. Unfortunately the
room had teething problems. The hot water heater provided hot water for about a minute, then in quick succession lukewarm, tepid and coolish. Dana
washed her hair and came out of the shower shivering. The wifi was only available if I stood outside on the lanai facing the street. There was a
strong paint smell so we slept with the lanai door open, in the morning we were greeted with a cacophony of chickens crowing and dogs barking, ATVs
running up and down the street and the ever present amplified Mexican hybrid rap, booming and overwhelming. Whatever, it was cheap and convenient. I
laid in bed that night and thought about dinner, genuine warmth and home cooking outgunned by the marketing prowess of the modern restaurants where
perceived cleanliness, better signage and white tablecloths trumping far better food, better prices and real people. Like the rest of Los Barrilos
where the traditional lifestyle is being overwhelmed by big houses, big cars, paved roads and American values. The authentic taken over by a
perverted interpretation of Mexico before our very eyes. Home cooking, time honored customs and dignity replaced by Taco Bell.
The next morning our sweethearts from the previous night were closed. We ate at Roadrunners, near the main highway, the clientele exclusively
retirees. I watched the waitress walk to our table then stand by waiting for our order pencil and pad at the ready. She didn't smile and didn't say a
word. After we ordered she turned away to the kitchen, a silent robot compared to the lively warmth of the previous night. Later she came back and
held out a coffee pot, I nodded and she refilled my coffee, she brought out the check and we paid, not a word was exchanged. I couldn't wait to get
out of town.
The road into Los Cabos became four lane more and more of the time. It became less of a challenge to maintain high speeds but the dodginess and
frankly the personality of the two lane road was missing, like the restaurant in Los Barillos being replaced with the antiseptic efficiency of the
modern world.
Approaching Cabo San Lucas high pink walls, elaborate gates and country club facades lined the road. If La Paz was a bit of a shock Los Cabos was an
*OH.MY.GAWD* experience, Waikiki on steroids, massive amounts of money pumped into an area without urban planning, each development a growing
Frankenstein experiment in over the top vulgar ostentation. Mercedes and BMWs replaced beat up pickup trucks. Street hawkers and touts offering
"free dinner if you don't like the food" asking whether "your daughter doesn't deserve the best meal in Cabo". It was hideous, the mercenary
flashiness and glare so bright yet an obvious draw for tourists that crowded the thoroughfares and shopping venues like ants swarming honey. We
wanted to experience Cabo so we checked into a local hotel and headed for the beach which was amazing, tourists stacked like cordwood on the beach, so
close waiters in white shorts could scarcely navigate, their trays with gaudily decorated drinks held high to avoid being bumped by the bristling
horde. It was literally impossible to walk anywhere in a straight line. The bay was insane with charter fishing boats departing and returning,
kayaks, jet skis, hydrofoils, sailboats, all manner of pleasure cruisers zipping, lounging or bobbing in manic confusion while a gigantic cruise ship
held court, moored in the center of the bay. Dana wanted to try a jet ski and I wanted to get out to see Lands End, the iconic arch at the very end
of the Baja Peninsula. Bordering the rental area were floating lines and buoys marking off the swimming areas and creating a lane to get from the
beach to deeper water. I watched as tourists rented, receiving only nominal instruction in the operation of the jet skis, having to figure out how
the controls worked in the first minute of the rental. Some couldn't control their mechanical steeds and drifted or powered through the swimming
areas. I signed up, no insurance coverage, the liability waiver putting responsibility squarely on the renter, the only real advice not to damage the
jet ski or suffer "up to" $10,000 in repair/replacement costs. Leaving the beach the situation was every bit as bad as it looked, near the beach new
drivers erratic and dicey in their control while attempting to figure out vehicle operation while all manner of vehicles flitted erratically in every
direction, it was bedlam, it was hair-raising, it was kind of fun.
Dana held onto my waist as we pounded away from the beach and into the heart of the confusion. After touring the pinnacles and Lover's Beach at the
end of the cape we exchanged positions so she could try her hand at driving. We made our way slowly toward the center of the bay while I nervously
pointed out nearby watercraft while assessing their threat potential. Afterwards we walked the malecon, ignoring touts until we came across a small
restaurant on the marina advertising lobsters and local oysters. Riding the jet ski was hard work and we laughed about the experience over a beer
(for me), a virgin marguerita (for Dana) and some delectable local oysters topped with caviar, mild onions and I think, a dab of Worchestershire
sauce. This was our prelude to dinner in as local a place as we could locate, Pepe's. The chef was cooking while singing boisterously to the
caballero music that pounded from overhead speakers. The environment wasn't very authentic but the fajitas were delicious, early on I tried one of
the peppers that came on the condiment tray. "Muay picante", I told Dana as I started mouth breathing, a bright sheen of sweat announcing the
obvious. She stayed away and enjoyed dinner as I drank everything in sight to tame the inferno.
https://picasaweb.google.com/115588061900429058055/SanJoseDe...
|
|
koolaukid
Newbie
Posts: 22
Registered: 12-1-2011
Member Is Offline
|
|
Todos Santos
The manager at the hotel we stayed at in San Jose del Cabo was an elderly Mexican gentleman who took a liking to us. He had told us about the
neighborhood, advised us where to eat laughing when I stipulated a place with "no gringos" and offered extra blankets when we returned from dinner
chilled. We talked a little about the area and expressed regrets for what was happening to his home. I couldn't offer anything but sympathy, I was a
little off-put at the wretched excess myself. His concerns were something I had heard before.
One really good development to come out of our stay in civilization was the opportunity to wash clothes. As mentioned earlier I only brought one pair
of long pants and two pairs of long sleeved shirts Dana had roughly the same. Because the long pants and shirts were needed every day I was hesitant
to wash them afraid they wouldn't dry in time although I had washed underwear and socks in bathroom sinks a couple of times (hey everyone has got to
have standards). I had gone 9 days wearing the same clothes, after the first 3 or 4 I quit sniffing them to check status, it had simply become too
painful. I took an armful of our clothes to a lavateria across the street from the hotel and by the time we got back from the jet ski experience they
were done. Clean clothes are one of life's little pleasures we don't really appreciate until we don't have 'em. I felt a deep sense of gratification
as we instantly moved up a couple of tiers on Maslow's hierarchy.
The next day would be our last full day, we headed north along the West Cape our destination for the evening La Paz where we would drop the rental car
and catch a flight for Tijuana the next day. Leaving Los Cabos the glitz largely disappeared as we glided alongside endless beaches. The road
consisted of stretches of four lane interrupted by long stretches of construction, sections of the old road forlornly sitting off to the side. Within
a year this entire section will be completed. There are small locally owned roadside eateries that will be hidden and bypassed by the new road, the
owners forced to pursue another strategy as "progress" relegates their business to the past. Again gringo mansions gathered in small communities and
on the choicest locations on the top of hills and overlooks. I found myself cheering for the periodic hurricanes that scoured the area. Between the
occasional gringo enclaves (photo #8) were long stretches of deserted beach. It was another magnificent Baja day and we frequently took the
opportunity to stop the car, walk the beaches and drink deeply of the area, our sojourn almost over. Dana and I were fully aware our trip was ending
and we looked for any opportunity to embellish the experience, especially as La Paz was a known quantity.
After a few hours we reached Todos Santos known as the location of the California Hotel, made famous by the Eagles. Apparently we weren't the only
ones that wanted to check this box as the place was lousy with tourists. Rooms were crazy expensive for the area, over $120 a night. The hotel and
the area had the trendy, hip atmosphere of an artists colony and would have been well suited to the Carmel/Monterey area in Northern California. The
prices that tourist ephemera commanded were absurd. On the edge of town we found a local taceria under a palapa hut and knowing full well this might
be our last hurrah we indulged to the limit of our capacity. Dana and I resolved to try making fish tacos when we get home.
Settling into La Paz we walked the malecon trolling for our last dinner and despite our best efforts we capped the visit with a meal that can only be
described as adequate. I saw it coming, I knew it would be nothing to write home about but couldn't improve our lot despite my best efforts.
The next day after dropping the car and an uneventful flight into Tijuana we boarded the shuttle for the border. It was December 30, apparently a
poor choice of dates to cross back to the US. We sat in line for about 3 hours before making the border station where the US Customs agents doing
their best impersonation of heavily armed paramilitary flexed their authority to the limit of their egos. "Get behind the line" one barked, "Hey you,
wait there" another flared. I was exhausted, hungry and irritated from the flight and long wait, it was all I could do to bite my tongue. Then it
came to me, we were on a bus full of Mexicans, maybe we didn't warrant better treatment. After clearing Immigration we were herded to an area to wait
for the bus on the American side. It was freezing outside, the guy in charge yelled brusque commands, I was in line with a couple from Germany and a
family from the UK. They were both somewhat incredulous, "This is America?", "land of the free, home of the brave" I retorted. After waiting an hour
and being told that only part of our group would make the first bus and the rest would have to wait an unknown duration, I decided "the heck with it",
located a taxi and with the German couple drove to San Diego Airport where we got a rental car and beelined for a late dinner in Oceanside. My
hackles were still up from the abuse at the border but with a full stomach the situation could be assessed rationally. Number 1, we were probably
mistaken for Mexicans. Number 2, Mexicans simply don't warrant civil treatment (even though I saw a few bearing US passports).
I knew for sure I was back the the US when going through the TSA inspection for our flight back to Honolulu. After putting my backpack, belt, watch,
shoes, change and phone and laptop into a tray for the x-ray machine I forgot to also drop my wallet in. The latex gloved inspector told me he
couldn't just x-ray the wallet, he had to do a pat down which was rather intimate. During the pat down I asked if we couldn't "just be friends"
instead. He didn't see the humor and had me take a full body scan then wiped me for explosives followed by using my passport for some kind of check
of a database, I guess of likely terror suspects. Sick of the regimentation and still tender from the rough treatment at the border I mentioned that
his hands his hands were cold, to the amusement of other potential searchees. We were both irked and I know it was stupid but the obtuse
regimentation pushed my petulant juvenile button. Home of the free, land of the brave.
In closing, the car made the trip without problem although it did show a few signs of distress. Were I to do it again I'd get something more capable
off road.
The lack of rules and organization in Mexico is a double edged sword, while we could pretty much do anything we wanted, others could too. So we had
to endure occasional smokers in restaurants, confusing road rules and signage, the chaos on the jet ski in Cabo and Oh Lord, those Mexican drivers!
I had read that minors escorted by one parent required a notarized release from the other parent. I had made sure to bring this document but was
never asked to show this.
Although we purchased a Mexican tourist visa while crossing over in Tijuana we were never asked to show it. Not once.
Regardless, it was a fantastic trip on many levels. Many of the people we met were absolutely delightful. The scenery and history spectacular. The
prices absurdly low. An Lordy Be, the food! But Baja is changing even as we speak. If you have the opportunity, I recommend visiting while shreds
of the authentic still exist.
https://picasaweb.google.com/115588061900429058055/TodosSant...
|
|
Ken Cooke
Elite Nomad
Posts: 8947
Registered: 2-9-2004
Location: Riverside, CA
Member Is Online
Mood: Pole Line Road postponed due to injury
|
|
Here, it's easy...
|
|
Ken Cooke
Elite Nomad
Posts: 8947
Registered: 2-9-2004
Location: Riverside, CA
Member Is Online
Mood: Pole Line Road postponed due to injury
|
|
koolaukid is my new favorite Baja author!
Quote: | Originally posted by koolaukid
My clothes smell like a dead fish wrapped in a gym sock that fell under a chicken coop.
|
|
|
Islandbuilder
Senior Nomad
Posts: 555
Registered: 11-9-2011
Location: nob
Member Is Offline
Mood: bewildered
|
|
Quote: | Originally posted by Ken Cooke
Quote: | Originally posted by koolaukid
My clothes smell like a dead fish wrapped in a gym sock that fell under a chicken coop.
| |
I had to read that line out loud to my family. Brilliant!
What a great trip report, thank you koolaukid!!
|
|
Ken Cooke
Elite Nomad
Posts: 8947
Registered: 2-9-2004
Location: Riverside, CA
Member Is Online
Mood: Pole Line Road postponed due to injury
|
|
Quote: | Originally posted by Islandbuilder
Quote: | Originally posted by Ken Cooke
Quote: | Originally posted by koolaukid
My clothes smell like a dead fish wrapped in a gym sock that fell under a chicken coop.
| |
I had to read that line out loud to my family. Brilliant!
What a great trip report, thank you koolaukid!! |
I read it to my wife - she couldn't believe what she was hearing! Word for word, this was a great trip report. Koolaukid needs to take more trips to
Baja to write more reports.
|
|
bajabass
Super Nomad
Posts: 2016
Registered: 10-4-2006
Location: La Paz,BCS
Member Is Offline
Mood: Want to fish!!!
|
|
Great trip report! More than a couple chuckles.
Keep your eyes on the road, and your hands upon the wheel!
|
|
Pages:
1
2 |
|