A Rough Couple Days

My final evening in Mexico City began what would be one of the most stressful 48 hour periods of my life. In the middle of the night while sleeping cozily in my beautiful hotel room, my dog Charlie began to whine. I dismissed it as him just being annoying and needy so I fell back asleep. The next time I woke up it was to Kerry saying something to the effect of, "Oh my god, he's shitting!"

The poor dog had made the most disgusting liquid mess all over the room. It was absolutely terrible. We gagged and cussed as we used the hotel's fluffy white towels to do our best to sop up the shit stew. Eventually, with the windows open to the cold night and essential oils smeared on our pillows to block any remaining stench, we drifted back to sleep.

The slumber didn't last long though as after an hour or two Charlie began to whine again. I knew this meant I didn't have much time so I threw on some shorts and attached the dog's leash and made my way to the stairs. Remember, our wonderful hotel room was in an old building on the roof top with no elevator. We didn't even make it down the first flight before the sick mutt exploded all over the stairs. A long night was getting longer. At this point there was no reason to take Charlie to the park across the street to do his business. That ship had sailed. I spent the next 20 minutes going back and forth to the building's public restroom grabbing paper towels to deal with the mess.

The act of being awoken by a whining dog, trying to make it out of the building, then making a sad attempt to clean the resulting mess happened twice more throughout the night. The final time as the sky was being lit by the oncoming sun, the building's security guard came outside with me as I took Charlie to the nearby park. He didn't bring his keys to the auto-locking door and we got locked out. I had to yell up toward my room and luckily Kerry heard me eventually and came down to let us in.

We left that day with the goal of making it to a small town just before the Guatemala border. We would spend the night there and do the border crossing, which we assumed would be a long process, early the following day. During the drive we made frequent stops to let Charlie relieve himself, but he seemed to be doing better...Initially,.. Sometime in the afternoon the whining became more and more frequent and eventually there was an accident in the car. 

We stopped in a small town to figure out our options. On top of being unwilling to drive with a dog that sick in the back, I was getting worried about my navigator and best friend's long term health. Everything that went in was going right out and he was surely becoming dehydrated. We began researching pharmacological options online and found that some human antibiotics can be given to dogs. There are pharmacies all over Mexico where antibiotics are readily available. I also spoke to my uncle who is a veterinarian who confirmed that a combination of certain antibiotics could help. The pharmacy in the town in which we stopped didn't have one of the meds but thankfully there was a veterinarian in town, and after going an hour out of the way to a different vet's office we had the antibiotic cocktail that would hopefully help Charlie find some regularity. 

Due to the medical delay there was no way we would make it as far as originally planned. Whatever meds the Mexican vet gave were apparently working so we were able to drive toward Guatemala for a couple more hours before finding a hotel in some podunk town. Once again there was no easy access to an outdoor area from the room so if we would be having a repeat from the previous night we would be in trouble. In order to get some sleep we locked Charlie in the bathroom to sleep. As I closed the door I looked at Kerry and said, "It's gonna be a war zone in there in the morning."

Morning came and sure enough it was ugly in that bathroom. We cleaned the room and the dog and got on our way. Despite what you'd think after looking at the hotel bathroom, Charlie's antibiotics were starting to work well at this point and the worst seemed to be over. We made it to the border in the early afternoon. It took hours to cancel the Mexican car import permit and go through customs. We eventually made it to the no-man's-land that is the space between borders and were quickly approached by a man who wanted to help us through the process. Normally I avoid these touts when traveling but he seemed knowledgeable and helpful and I had read that some of these guys at the borders can in fact bypass lines and speed the process for a small fee. He got us through the first couple steps of entering Guatemala then said that I would need to come with him to the Guatemala customs office a few blocks from the border to receive the temporary car import permit for driving in Guatemala. 

I should have known better. I consider myself a savvy traveler, above getting scammed, but that's exactly what was happening. I had left my car, Kerry, and my dog at the border and rode on the back of some random asshole's motorcycle to an office about a half mile away. I immediately knew something was off. There were five or six people sitting in front of computers in the office, none of whom were wearing government uniforms. I asked if it was an official government office and was greeted with smiles, snickers, and unconvincing yes's. I said that I knew it was not official and walked out as fast as I could. They followed me out trying to show me paperwork that would confirm that it was in fact legit. When I asked the price for my necessary documents they said it would be $300. That confirmed it - no way should crossing the border be anywhere near that much. At the very least I was getting scammed, at worst I would be robbed and attacked. I walked off to find my way back to the border but the guy with the motorcycle had gone something of a roundabout way and I was having a hard time. This border town in Guatemala was a little scary. It was dirty and shady, not the kind of place you want to be walking around alone at night.  I called Kerry to tell her what happened so she could get the police if necessary. While I was on the phone the guy with the motorcycle pulled up next to me and said that he would take me to the border. For whatever reason, I agreed, figuring that if he didn't take me where I wanted to go, getting off a motorcyle, even if it's moving is possible.

Luckily we soon ended up back at the border. In retrospect, I think the guy on the motorcycle would have been happy to scam me but once I figured out that I was getting scammed a bit of conscience hit him and he didn't want me walking alone through a dangerous area. In any case, I was safely back with my car, girlfriend, dog, and belongings.

This was not the happy end of the night's stresses. It was time to get the car import permit. I went to the aduana office where there was a group of Canadian travelers going through the same process, one of whom spoke very fluent Spanish. She insisted on helping me communicate with the government agents issuing the permits. I accepted the help knowing that although my Spanish was probably good enough to move through the process, it would likely move a lot faster with her there to interpret. I'm glad she was there. After presenting the copy of the car's title, the DMV receipt showing that I had begun the process for getting a new title, a bill of sale, and proof of insurance, I was told that because I didn't have a title and registration with my name on it I wouldn't be issued a permit to drive the car into Guatemala. If it were just me there I doubt my Spanish would have been good enough to beg and plead my case to try to convince the powers that be that I did indeed legally own the car, but after about an hour my interpreter talked them into issuing the permit. It really didn't look good for a while and I can't stress enough how disheartened I was for a time there. I was pretty sure I'd be driving home from Mexico instead of continuing my adventure through Central America. I got lucky.

After some payments and filling out some documents we finally made it into Guatemala at around 7pm. We had what Google Maps told us was about four more hours of driving to reach Antigua where we planned to spend a couple nights. About an hour into the drive traffic completely stopped. I mean stopped like people getting out of their cars, smoking cigarettes, and talking to other drivers. Every few minutes the line of cars would move 50 feet or so then stop again. We waited in the mess for about an hour and a half and noticed that every once in a while a car from behind us would pass on the wrong side of the road, as traffic coming the other way was light. I realized that if we wanted to make it to Antigua I would need to do like the locals so I began to drive in the oncoming lane. Every mile or so an oncoming car would speedily approach and we'd have to swerve off the road completely or try to find a place to squeeze in back in the appropriate lane. This dangerous game of chicken went on for about 20-30 miles until traffic finally began to clear and we were able to consistently join the correct lane.

We made it into Antigua by about 1am which was late enough, but if we'd waited in traffic I seriously doubt we would have made it before sunrise. We checked into a comfortable room at Hotel Porta Antigua, happy to be done with a very long stressful period.

Don't Believe the Hype

When telling friends and family I would be spending a few days in Guadalajara and Mexico City, most replied with a warning about a lack of safety or something about how dirty and overcrowded the cities would be. Even Kerry who would be flying in to Mexico City to meet me for another portion of the road trip would later tell me how nervous she was to simply make her way from the airport to a hotel. I, in fact, never even considered a stop in either of these major metropolitan cities, especially the megopolis of what Mexicans typically refer to as D.F. (Mexico City). Luckily, I was spurred off my loosely planned route of staying on coastal highways by time as it's the quickest way to get to Central America, and by the urging of a couple friends who told me how amazing both Guadalajara and especially D.F. really are.

I tell you now: If you have a negative image of either Mexico City or Guadalajara based on the warnings of others, DON'T BELIEVE THE HYPE!

I left Los Mochis after the ferry ride from Baja early on the morning of December 12th. It would be a drive of about 560 miles, the heaviest day of driving yet and would require some driving at night which I was trying to avoid. I also would unfortunately be missing a lot of Mexico, but for one of the few instances I would have on this adventure, I was on a tight schedule. The drive was uneventful though the price of the toll roads in Mexico is remarkable. I hit my first shortly after I was underway and it was about $6. I thought, small price to pay for smooth, straight, safe roads. After about 20 minutes I hit the second toll booth, 30 minutes later another. This would go on for the entirety of the drive, sometimes they would be as little as $2 or $3, sometimes as much as $10 or $11. All in all I spent at least $200 on Mexican toll roads. Also worth mentioning is the cool shift from the dry desert of Baja that I'd gotten used to, to the tropical forest climates of Sinaloa and Nayarit states.

I arrived in Guadalajara at around 7:30 and checked into the hotel I had booked online. It was in a cool old building and the business was actually an art gallery and hotel. After settling quickly I took a walk to find dinner. I was surprised to find that Guadalajara reminded me a bit of Portland. This was likely partially due to the heavy rain and mild temperature, but it also had that large city with a small town vibe thing going on, was full of hipsters, and had a thriving foodie and live music scene. I decided on Karne Garibaldi for dinner which bills itself as the world's fastest restuarant. They specialize in a dish called carne in su jugo, which translates to meat in it's juices. I don't know if Karne Garibaldi is actually the fastest restaurant in the world but it was damn quick and the soup like dish was perfect for a cool rainy night. I walked around a bit and there were plenty of nightlife options that looked like a good time but I was tired from a very long day of driving so I called it in early.

The following morning I went for coffee and breakfast and did a little sight seeing. There was a massive Catholic Basilica and some super cool art galleries and shops. Sadly, I would need to leave soon as I had a reservation in Mexico City where Kerry would be meeting me the following day. I would have loved some more time in the hip, safe, and beautiful city but I'll have to leave that for another trip.

The ride from Guadalajara to D.F. would be another big day on the road, about 335 miles. Again, aside from the tolls this ride was mostly uneventful. After battling some of the worst traffic I've ever experienced within the city, and the most cutthroat drivers on the planet I made it to my hotel near Alameda Park. By this point I had gotten used to the idea that Mexico City is not some dirty dangerous shit hole, as I had heard more and more good things about it, but I was still surprised when I parked and walked to the hotel. In truth, Mexico City has almost completely avoided the cartel problem, has a long history of art and music, and is home to some the world's best up and coming chefs, and it is mostly clean and safe. That's not to say that it's perfect. There are parts of the city that are best avoided at any time day due to safety, there are severely impoverished areas, and as mentioned the traffic is wretched. I actually find it ironic when an American talks about the safety of another international city. We have this idea that the US is some sort of utopia, when in truth there are plenty of areas in the US where I would contend that civilians have a similar chance of being a victim of crime.

The medium sized city park near the hotel was clean and full of young couples holding hands and strolling at the end of their Sunday evening. It had beautiful fountains and statues watching as the young and in love cuddled and cupcaked on the benches. The hotel itself was on the rooftop level of an old colonial building. There were only 12 rooms or so, done in a basic style with lots of concrete and soft, white flowing linens. Outside the room hammocks were strung for relaxing and there was a small communal dining area where guests enjoyed the included breakfast (no waffle maker). It was perfect, and although it was somewhat expensive for Mexico, the location was unbeatable, it was stylish and comfortable, and you'd have a hard time finding anything better than a Holiday Inn for the same price in the US. The employees were very friendly and I absolutely recommend Chaya B&B for anyone who has some time in D.F.

Mexico City was home to both Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera, among many other talented artists. There are museums displaying their works, including the Frida Kahlo Blue House, a gallery inside a home that she resided in with Diego Rivera, and the Museo Mural where the Sueño de una tarde dominical en la Alameda Central (Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in the Alameda Central), one of Rivera's most famous works, is displayed. There is also a huge anthropology museum packed with information and items from the history of Mexico.

The food in D.F., as it is pretty much everywhere in Mexico, is amazing. From the cheapest street stalls to the fanciest world renowned restaurants (which you will pay about 1/3 of what you would pay in the US), you would need to work hard to be disappointed. The first night in town I was in need of a quick bite as it was pretty late after I settled. Around the corner there is a small market area with a few food options. After I saw some fantastic looking tacos of which the proprietor of a certain fine establishment was piling fresh cut french fries onto I looked no further. More taquerias should put french fries on tacos. They were dream about later good. Kerry and I also really enjoyed Azul Historica, and an interesting French meal with a bit of a Mexican twist at the highly acclaimed Maximo Bistro.

Kerry and I spent four night in Mexico City, which was one more than originally planned. We liked it just too much to leave. We really just explored, walked around (yes, even after dark) and ate our way through the city. The people were friendly and we were both pleasantly surprised and happy we decided to include the city in our trip.

The day before we left, after being lost for a couple hours, we found our way to Reserva Mariposa Monarca (Monarch Butterfly Reserve), which if you don't get lost is only a couple hours away from the hotel. Every year tens of millions of monarch butterflies migrate south from the US and Canada to avoid the freezing temperatures and feed. They make it to this small area of Mexico and it was one of the most amazing things I've ever seen. The forest and air is thick with them. They weigh down the trees which sway under the weight of the beautiful insects. Hold still and they'll land on you as well. Kerry and I just sat on the ground and stared up for over an hour. We would have stayed longer but our guide told us we had to go. I've attached a picture to this post of it really doesn't do justice. It was a beautiful experience that was once again a pleasant surprise.

After four nights, it was time to make our way to Central America and my second border crossing for the journey. Mexico was amazing and remains one of my favorite countries that I've spent time. I had nearly a month there, which was nowhere near enough. A person could spend a year in this large country and barely scratch the surface of its diversity, history, and beauty. 

Mexico City was a fantastic way to end my time there and I fully endorse it for anyone, no matter what interests you. It really is sad that it has such a bad rap. It really has so much to offer.

Route from Los Mochis to Guadalajara and Mexico City

Tacos with French fries. YES!

Chaya Boutique Hotel

Diego Rivera Mural

Reserva Mariposa Monarca

Reserva Mariposa Monarca

A Little Adversity is Good for You

I may have missed seeing the epic Baja 1000, but leaving Cabo Pulmo to reach La Paz where I would catch a ferry to mainland Mexico, I feel like I got to compete in my own personal off road race, The day before I had gone scuba diving. After the dive, instead of throwing a bunch of wet dive equipment in the back of my car, I left it hanging at the dive shop to dry overnight. In the morning I packed up my campsite and headed into the tiny town of Cabo Pulmo for my favorite Mexican Breakfast, Chilaquiles. Afterword I planned to make the three hour drive to La Paz. I would be a couple hours early, but I'd just hang out on the malecon with a Pacifico or something, maybe grab some tacos while I waited for the boat.

About halfway through the 110 mile drive, much of which is on a rough dirt road, I thought about the dives I had done the day before and I was reminded of my scuba equipment still hanging at the dive shop. Normally turning around would be a no brainer, but I had a boat to catch. I had a ticket, and I was on a tight schedule to get to Mexico City where Kerry was flying to meet me and I had a hotel reserved. After a verbal explosion of expletives and a momentary consideration of leaving a couple thousand dollars worth of scuba gear I flipped the Trailblazer around, turned on the "Roadtrip Playlist" and put the pedal down. This was not safe driving. I had extra time, but if I didn't knock down the miles quickly there would be no chance of making the ferry. I was hitting the twisting bends in the roads at nearly rollover speeds and fishtailing on the dirt roads as I bounced along. Urging me along with a positive attitude, sometimes the music would sync well with the mission. - "I left my scuba in Cabo Pulmo" by A Tribe Called Quest, "I'm going going back back to Pulmo Pulmo" by The Notorious B.I.G., etc.

I made the drive that Google Maps predicted would take 1:40 in about 1:10, grabbed my gear, then turned around and did the same stunt work back the other way. Devastatingly, it was all for naught. I reached La Paz with what I thought would be enough time to catch the ferry but couldn't find the terminal. I called the ferry company who told me where the port was, but also informed me that to catch the ferry I needed to be three hours early! Somewhere between inadequate Spanish, not reading the entire ticket confirmation email, and assuming that three hours early to board a ferry would be ridiculous I missed this important detail. Long story short, I changed my ticket to the next day and booked a room for the night in La Paz.

After a nice breakfast in La Paz and a run on the malecon, the first of a series of issues with the car registration that have been a theme of this wonderful adventure began. While in Todos Santos I had had my mom send me a temporary vehicle import permit that is necessary to drive in Mexico. Nowhere did I read that I needed the permit until I was already well into my drive in Baja, where for whatever reason the permit is unnecessary. I read from multiple sources that the only way to receive the permit is at a Mexican consulate in the US, at the border at Tecate (The border crossing I took leaving San Diego), or online (in which case the permit is shipped to a US address), which is what I did. You can't board the ferry without the permit so before I drove to the terminal I opened the Fedex envelope that my mother had sent to me. It looked like it had been taped at the top but I figured this was simply done for extra security. I was wrong. Turns out the envelope had been opened during its journey from the US and the contents had been stolen. Needless to say, I freaked out. What would I do? It would take nearly two weeks to apply and receive another permit, essentially ending my trip that was intended to take me through most of Central America in Baja. And of course, Kerry would either be hanging out in Mexico City alone, canceling her ticket all together, or changing it to hang out with me in Cabo.

With no real plan I began driving to the ferry terminal. If I didn't get there soon I would miss the ferry no matter what I figured out. On my way I Google searched Banjercito, which is the Mexican bank that issues the temporary car permits. Oddly I found that there was one located at the ferry terminal. I called and explained the situation and they told me to come there to see if I could get another permit. This was good news because I was under the impression that getting a permit anywhere within the country was completely impossible. When I arrived some phone calls were made and I was eventually told that I would have to buy another permit (about $60, with a $300 deposit that is returned once the car leaves the country) but I could do it there. Fantastic! Sold! So, a note to anyone who stumbles across this blog looking for information about a similar road trip: YOU CAN PURCHASE A TERMPORARY VEHICLE IMPORT PERMIT AT THE BANJERCITO OFFICE AT THE BAJA FERRIES TERMINAL NEAR LA PAZ.

Sadly, my relief didn't last long. You see, I purchased the car I was driving two days before leaving the US. When I went to the DMV in Oregon they took the title and the registration so new ones could be created with my name on them, which would be sent to me in four weeks. I was given a receipt of the transaction and was told that this would be enough documentation for whatever comes up. Mexico doesn't agree. After showing the DMV receipt, the Bill of Sale, and a photocopy of the original title I was told flatly, "I'm sorry, I can't give you a permit with this." (Spoiler alert: An issue arising due to not having an original tile will come up again in a future post.)

Another rush of doom came over me. I pleaded, begged, and charmed until my gatekeeper did a little more research into how I could get the permit. She said that if I had proof of insurance from the US she would do it. "Yes! I have that!"

After some forms were filled, pictures of the car were taken, and money was exchanged, I had my permit. It was only an hour and a half before the ferry departure time but that proved to be plenty. The stress of the 24 hours leading to the 9 hour (that includes boarding and disembarking time) over water journey took a few days off my life but I would soon be on mainland Mexico. I would need to hammer pretty hard to get to Mexico City in time but I would make it.

The ferry ride was uneventful. There are two or three large rooms. I chose to sit in the cafeteria area where the bar was located . I had my own table to watch other groups of people get wasted drinking cases of Tecate while Mexican music blared and the AC kept the room just above freezing, which was likely an attempt (unsuccessful) to keep people from passing out on the padded benches that surround the room. 

After waiting for over an hour to disembark I made the decision to stay in Los Mochis overnight as opposed to driving to Mazatlan late which I was advised not to do for safety reasons. This meant that I would give up the room I had reserved in Mazatlan and I would need to drive the 900 miles from Los Mochis to Mexico City in two days, but it was the safe play.

I made it safely to a hotel where I knew I would sleep after a long day. A couple big days of driving were coming but I was happy to be on my way to see two cities in Guadalajara and Mexico City that I had heard good things about, and of course to see Kerry.

Cabo Pulmo

Cabo Pulmo is my new zombie apocalypse hold out location. Does everyone have one of these? Well they should. If the CDC has a zombie apocalypse emergency plan (They do), you should have a general idea of where you'll head once your neighbors start coming over to eat your brains instead of borrow your sugar.

This Baja town of 111 people is about two hours from the closest city of any size. Half of the drive is on a mountainous highway, the other half is on rough dirt roads. This means there will be very few potential zombie locals, as well as a low number of zombie tourists from Cabo or La Paz or wherever. I'm picturing undead with cold, blue, drooping skin, wide brimmed khaki hats, ripped Tommy Bahama shirts, and Tevas with socks, maybe fanny packs. Poor bastards were in the middle of an all inclusive vacation when the sickness spread.

Cabo Pulmo is a nature reserve both on land and in the surrounding ocean. Since receiving its protected status in 1995, marine life within the park has increased by an amazing 463%. Originally the local fishermen were pretty upset about being forced to change their ways of life but many quickly saw an opportunity in transferring their ocean knowledge to other endeavors such as scuba and snorkel guiding for tourists excited to see the amazing change in marine health. Other fishermen soon realized that the increasing biomass within the marine reserve was spilling over to unprotected areas nearby and they could therefore continue fishing, often more successfully than before, just outside the borders. This is an absolute victory in marine conservation, something that I am passionate about, and a blueprint for the protection of other regions. It also means that during a zombie apocalypse there would be plenty of protein. Yeah, I know it's protected and for good cause, but when the world as we know it is ending I'll do what is necessary to survive.

I'm not sure about the fresh water situation in Cabo Pulmo after the fall of civilization. It's in a desert but there may be wells. I'll be looking into that. Wow, really nerding out here, huh? Okay, moving along...

I heard from some dive buddies of mine that the diving in Cabo Pulmo is fantastic. Since that's kinda my thing, I planned on checking it out after I left Todos Santos. It's on the other side of Baja, about two and a half hours away. There are a couple small rented cabanas in town, but I wanted to camp, which I heard was very possible. Once I arrived in the early afternoon I had a solid lunch at one of the three or four restaurants in town before finding a dive shop that could take me out the following day.

I then set off to find a place to pop a tent for the evening. After some searching I found the perfect spot at the end of a long, wide, white sand beach. At the other end of the beach there were some travelers in RVs and tents but I was interested in solitude, just a boy and his dog. There was a large rocky headland to the south which protected from wind, and the water was a stunning turquoise blue. The mountains to the west caught the evening's setting rays of sun and turned the sky and land alike to vibrant shades of purple, pink, and orange. I was truly in awe of its beauty.

I set up my tent and gathered firewood while Carlos, or "Los" as he now prefers ran around happy as a pig in shit to be off leash, prancing through the sand and taking the sticks that I was collecting to wherever he willed. As the sun set I lit a nice little fire and roasted hot dogs and heated a package of pre-cooked lentils I had before a dessert of toasted marshmallows. I listened to music, read, and chatted with Los like he actually understood me before turning in early.

I woke up early after a night of restless sleep in which I used two Mexican Blankets as a sleeping pad. I'm pretty much The Princess and the Pea when it comes to mattresses so I was quite achy when the alarm went off. I packed up camp and made coffee with my awesome turbo boiler thing (I fucking love REI) and headed to the dive shop.

The two dives were average I would say. I think it was just an off day unfortunately. A storm had come through a few days before which decreased visibility to about 30 feet. There were some fish, even a few that were quite large, two white tip reef sharks, a tiny frog fish, and a few moray eels and sting rays. I saw none of the large swirling schools of jacks I had seen in pictures, or hammerheads or bull sharks. It doesn't help that I've been lucky enough to work as a dive guide and instructor in some amazing places or that I have visited many more prime dive locations. An embarrassment of riches has risen the bar for me. At the end of the day though, a day spent underwater always ends up in the plus column.

After the dives I had lunch and a beer at a restaurant on the water in town before heading back to my campsite for more of the same activities from the previous evening. In the morning I took my time packing up before heading to La Paz to catch the ferry to mainland Mexico.

I felt then, and still do today that the simplicity, solitude, and beauty of my two days and nights in Cabo Pulmo made for an experience near the top of the list for this entire adventure thus far. I think it's safe to assume that it will be a little more stressful once I have to think about fending off zombies.

All photos are of my camping area from different vantage points at different times.

Todos Santos

The rolling hills of the desert of Baja gave way to two weeks I planned to spend on the rolling seas of Todos Santos. Although I had never been before I made the decision months ago to spend more extended time there than anywhere else during this adventure. I heard good things about it, knew there were good surf breaks, and simply had a generally good feeling about it. So yeah, good.

I booked a house on Airbnb in a neighborhood right in town and it ended up being just right. The home was modern, comfortable, and big. There was a rooftop palapa for stringing up my hammock and watching sunsets, an outdoor shower, and a washing machine, among other creature comforts. I was sharing the home with quite a few very large cockroaches and a mouse who had made a nice little bed in the oven using insulation. I lived in Thailand, Hawaii, and Grand Turk in a previous life so I'm not too freaked out by the critter roommates that make themselves comfortable in tropical habitations, but that didn't mean I was against smashing the massive insects if  I found them loitering too long in the kitchen. I eventually began using a Friday reference pretty much whenever I went in to grab a snack or some water. "How come every time I'm in the kitchen, yo ass in the kitchen?"

Thanksgiving fell during my time in Todos Santos so Kerry decided she would come down for a few days to celebrate. It wasn't what you would call a traditional experience full of football and hot toddys. Ours was filled with whale sharks, humpbacks, and dolphins. Off the coast of La Paz, about 45 minutes away by car, there is an opportunity to see whale sharks this time of year. For those of you not familiar, a whale shark is a shark and not a whale, meaning it's a fish. It's actually the world's biggest fish, growing up to 40 feet long. They have no teeth being filter feeders so they're completely harmless to humans. They're pretty rare and are something of a holy grail to scuba divers. I've seen quite a few in my life but Kerry had never seen one. If you're ever in a part of the world at the right time when seeing at least one is more or less guaranteed, take advantage of it. I was excited that Kerry would have the opportunity. We were able to get in the water to snorkel with three or four different whale sharks. The previously mentioned humpbacks and dolphins were bonuses that showed up during the tour.

After we returned from La Paz we decided we would do our best to make a somewhat traditional dinner. Proper Thanksgiving ingredients were hard to come by but we were able to find enough to make it feel legit. We had chicken, boxed stuffing, yams, gravy, potatoes, green beans, and brownies for dessert.

The first problem we encountered was that the oven wouldn't work. Well, actually the first problem was than when I opened the oven I saw a little mouse scurry away and out through the bottom, leaving his cushy little insulation bed in the corner. After removing that the second problem was the non working oven. No worries, we'll make the chicken on the stove. We won't be able to toast marshmallows on top of the yams, but that's not the end of the world. Moving right along.

Problem number three: In the US if we have gas powered appliances there is a magical endless supply. We don't really think about it until the bill comes, and at least for me, I don't really even think about it then because it's on auto pay. In Mexico the homes have propane tanks. When they run out you have to get them filled before you have hot water, a stove top, etc.. So of course during Thanksgiving dinner, for which Kerry and I spent a good amount of time and money at three different stores finding the appropriate ingredients, the gas ran out. Basically, all that food we half way prepared was garbage and we had no other plans for a proper Thanksgiving. I did successfully half cook the yams which I proceeded to mash with a fork and add brown sugar and yogurt to (I had no milk). I then threw some mini marshmallows on top and boom, Thanksgiving yams. They were tasty. Kerry liked them and said they had a "trashy" taste. I told my friend Chloe back home about Kerry's opinion and she informed me that putting marshmallows on anything pretty much makes it trashy. I had no idea.  I guess I'm not as classy as I thought I was.

Mexicans obviously don't give a shit about the third Thursday in Novemeber so luckily my favorite Todos Santos taqueria was open. We had an awesome Thanksgiving dinner of a baked potato loaded with carne asada, cheese, and vegetables and tacos al pastor.

The rest of my time in Todos Santos was pretty relaxed. My days consisted of waking up early, making coffee and a basic breakfast before heading to the beach to surf and hang out. I even bought my first surfboard, shaped right there in Todos Santos. I also met some French Canadians who were on a road trip themselves all the way from Quebec. They had made friends with some of the Mexican guys who worked on the beach renting surfboards and beach umbrellas. We all hung out quite a bit both surfing and apres surf beer drinking and eating.

Although I enjoyed Todos Santos, two weeks was plenty of time I was excited to first do some camping in a rural national park, then to get over to the mainland.

Kerry releasing a baby sea turtle at the beach near the house in Todos Santos

Da Beach

White Trash Thanksgiving Yams

Carlos "Los" and the sunset

Baja Bound

After leaving San Diego, Charlie the German Shepherd and I took our time getting to Todos Santos, Mexico where I have a home rented for about two weeks until the 7th of December. I gave myself five days to drive the approximately 950 miles because I didn't want to rush. It was more than enough time and I probably could have stayed in San Diego another night. If I'd had a surfboard with me it would have been valuable extra free time as much of the coast of Baja, California is a surf mecca. Unfortunately, I'm still at the dorky, trying to catch waves on a garage door sized board level and driving 1,000 miles with one of those strapped to your roof is a challenge. So I just took it easy, drove a few hours a day and stopped in little towns along the way that looked like they may be interesting.

The first stop was Ensenada. Nothing remarkable here normally but when I arrived Baja 1,000 racers were in town preparing for the race that was due to start in a couple days. There were quite a few "trophy trucks" around getting ready for an epic 1,000 mile off road competition. I had a chat with one of the racers hoping for a podium spot and he got me excited to see a part of the race. I thought he told me it would be starting the next day so if I headed south I would catch it.

I headed down to El Rosario after one night in Ensenada. It's a quaint little town near the Pacific where I had heard of this cool little roadside motel. Sadly, when I arrived all the rooms were taken by Baja 1,000 teams prepping. Luckily right next door there was a perfectly adequate motel called Mama Espinoza's. They even let Charlie stay in the room, which I had been told is rare in Mexican motels. He'd had to sleep in the car quite a few nights due to me sleeping in friend's homes where someone had allergies and a lack of pet friendly hotels. Luckily, Charlie is pretty low maintenance so as long as he gets good exercise in the day he doesn't mind a little car camping. Once settled in at Mama Espinoza's I ran a few miles, showered and went to dinner. The most noteworthy thing that happened in El Rosario is the enchiladas I had at Mama Espinoza's restaurant next door to the motel. They were hands down the best enchiladas I've ever had and of course they only set me back about $3 and were served with rice and beans. If you find yourself driving through this part of the world, don't miss the food from the place.

I left the next morning expecting a stop in Catavina which I was told would be an excellent vantage point to see some Baja racers but before I left, one the racers' support crew told me they wouldn't be reaching that point until late the following evening. I had the day wrong and was actually a day ahead of the race start. When I reached Catavina I momentarily considered staying overnight to catch the action the next day but there is next to nothing to see or do in the miniature town and I would be waiting for close to 36 hours if I wanted to see anything. I decided to keep moving to get to an oasis pueblito I had heard good things about.

Although the town of Catavina has little to keep a traveler leisurely occupied, the terrain surrounding the town is a site to behold. Out of the rolling, stark baja desert, huge boulders begin to appear, between which are some of the biggest cacti I've ever seen. It's quite dramatic and I took advantage of having an SUV with 4wd by going off road for a bit and navigating around some of the boulders on the actual Baja race course.

Next stop was the oasis of San Ignacio. Got in a little late and quickly saw a sign for a B&B with yurts for accommodation. It is run by a kind Canadian couple, and although it seemed overpriced at $65 per night, I was tired and hungry and they were pet friendly so I took it. After a six mile run I sat down for roasted chicken, salad, and other yummies with the B&B owners and the large group of Canadians on a motorcycle tour that were staying there. They were interesting folks and it provided an evening of pleasant and interesting conversation.

I next planned a stopover in Loreto. I think this is a good time to talk about the kindness of others that I've been experiencing. Full disclosure here: I don't have a whole lot of faith in people for the most part. I know it sounds negative, bit I feel like people let you down more than they should. I choose the people in my life very carefully and keep a pretty small number of friends, and don't expect much from most. This trip has helped me getting an ever so slightly sunnier outlook so far. After letting friends know of my plans to drive to Central America and posting about it on Facebook I have been overwhelmed by the kindness and support I've received. I was offered a place to sleep in Northern California by an old friend I barely ever talk to or see, I was offered a place no questioned asked for a couple nights in LA, and I had three places to sleep offered to me by people in San Diego. I've also been offered a bed and local support in both Guadalajara and Mexico City by people I've met on the road.

One of the most heartwarming events was a message I got from a Portland friend shortly after I left home. It said that one of his wife's previous employers had seen that he "liked" my post about driving down Baja. They told him that they had recently purchased a home in Loreto and that if I needed anything at all, including a place to stay, that I should contact them directly. The morning I left for Loreto, despite my tendency to do everything in my power not to put people out in any way, I did just that. Tim and Sherrie met me in the town of Loreto where they were attending a party at a local microbrewery. After the party died down they had me follow them to their beautiful home in an expat community called Loreto Bay. I hadn't had dinner and it was late and nothing was open so Tim made me tacos and gave me a beer. After staying up and talking for a while I was led to my comfortable guest room where they even let Charlie stay. When I woke we had coffee under their rooftop palapa looking over the ocean. They had some previous plans so they told me to stay as long as I liked and allowed me to do my laundry before I left.

The kindness from these complete strangers really felt amazing. They were friendly and fun and didn't make me feel uncomfortable at all in accepting their help. I knew they were just good people happy to do something good for someone else.

Okay, this post is starting to feel a little rambly to me so I'm going to wrap it up here. After Loreto I went to La Paz where I spent two uneventful nights. I watched the Cotto VS. Alvarez fight at a local bar and tried to practice a little Spanish with some of the rabid Alvarez fans (He's kind of a national hero at the moment). Other than that I went to a beach, and ate tacos at least twice per day while waiting for the 23rd to arrive when I would pick up Kerry at the airport and get my first glimpse of my home for two weeks in Todos Santos. I'll try to get a post up about all that in the next few days.

Route from San Diego to La Paz

A Baja 1,000 racer in El Rosario

Catavina Boulders and Cacti

Charlie on a Beach Near La Paz

San Diago "A Whale's Vagina"

Okay, so it turns out I'm not so good at this blogging thing. The truth is that between pursuing my strict diet of chilaquiles, tacos, and tequila, surfing in the mornings, and spending time with friends in the evenings, well, I know where my priorities lie. Of course this blog is a journal to my older self just as much, if not more than it is a way for friends and family to stay updated on my travels, so I'll keep trying. I'm up relatively early today due to the cacophony of the local pack of street dogs in my neighborhood. They're a rowdy, rag tag bunch who get their kicks barking at pretty much any passing car going under 35 mph (especially when I'm sleeping), and chasing other dogs off their turf. It's a good time to throw some words down.

Okay so I'll back up a bit. When I wrote my last post I had been in San Diego for about a day. I ended up staying almost four full days and wanted to stay more, Every time I'm in San Diego I consider moving there. It's the surfer town vibe of the smaller areas like Ocean Beach and Pacific Beach, It's the consistently warm but very infrequently hot weather. Of course it's the ocean, something I have felt at home in and near since I can remember.

San Diego is just a generally fun city as well. While there I went to a couple great restaurants, went out and heard some okay music that was just fine because I was smashed when I heard it, tasted some shitty tequila that George Clooney promotes (If a bartender at a gay bar tries to sell you a tequila based on an endorsement by George Clooney, pass and just shell out the extra few bucks for the Don Julio Reposado. George Clooney has shitty taste in tequila.), and saw Point Break Live.

Point Break Live is a show I've been trying to see for a couple years now. It's a satirical stage play based on Point Break, a movie that has always been a guilty pleasure of mine. The show is quite interactive. Keanu Reeves's character is chosen from the audience, when people are shot blood splatters around the theater, the audience is made to get down during bank robberies. It's absurd but an absolute riot. If you're ever in a city where you can see the show I highly recommend it. Check out the YouTube video I linked to above.

But most of all it's the group of friends I have there. It seems to me that although there are so many people moving to Portland, those that were born there leave in droves as adults. Sure I still have some good old friends around but they're all a bit scattered among different groups of people and so busy with their own lives we don't see each other as much as we should. I love my new friends as well but the comfort one gains after knowing someone for one or two plus decades is difficult to match.

The truth is I only have a couple of those long time friends in San Diego, but they've been there so long that they now have old friends that are like family, and now they're getting so old ;) that they have actual families and the whole bunch really makes me feel like family. Phew, that was quite the convoluted sentence. On my final night in town dinner plans my pal Chloe was arranging for her family organically turned into a dinner party of about eight people. We had a great time just talking, laughing, drinking wine, and eating good food. It was run of the mill for them and maybe even taken for granted, which I think is a positive thing in this case. It was a really nice feeling and something I don't really get often back home anymore.

Someday I could really see myself committing to a move but for now I'll simply treasure the people and moments the city blesses me with.

Adrian getting his head humped at Point Break Live

Point Break Live

 

Family Dinner. Sorry guys, I wanted it candid.