Plagued by a potent combination of insomnia and restlessness, I left my house at 4:50 in the morning, got a quarter-full tank of gas, and headed south. Destination: Tijuana. Why? No real reason other than to see it, I guess. But isn't that the reason we travel anyway? I've lived a stone's throw away from Mexico for most of my life, but never really took the opportunity to make the jump, save for a brief trip with my dad about 10 years ago. Granted, Tijuana may not be the Lonely Planet destination of the year, but I figured it was worth experiencing. Plus, my mind was working on a severe lack of sleep, so it seemed like a good idea. Heading south on the 805, I was met with the bright lights of the city looming
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