Not all who wander are lost

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Buenas noches! Sadly, it’s been entirely too long since my last entry. Looking back at the previous entries, I am reminded not only of the good and bad times abroad, but also of how thankful I am to document all of my adventures and mishaps along the journey. I write now from the cozy casita of my friend Steph in San Jose del Cabo, Mx. I flew into the southern tip of the Baja peninsula last Thursday, less than 24 hours after finishing my last exam and turning in the final paper of the quarter. This vacation was definitely in the “mandatory” category of my life.

After a long, but unremarkable journey from home to Baja, I waited in Customs lines for well over an hour, praying that Steph’s boyfriend, Saul, hadn’t abandoned the airport pickup task in lieu of a good day of surf. Thankfully, though, as soon as I stepped out into the warm breezy desert I heard, “Are you Noel?” We exchanged hugs, and I was told that this was about the 10th time he said the phrase, to every unsuspecting gringa exiting the airport. Not 5 minutes later we were cruising down the highway toward San Jose, getting acquainted over a couple of Pacificos. Mexicanos don’t waste any time! As we pulled up to the house, Steph was getting out of her friend’s car, just home from work. We hugged and giggled like a couple of school girls preparing for a sleepover, and I knew the week would be one to remember.

That afternoon we stopped by the little palapa that Steph and Saul are building, and should be ready to move in soon after I leave. I must admit I admire her guts to move into such a small, plywood space, but I am also relieved she waited until after my visit to do so. Something tells us the “triply” is not the most insulated building material on the planet… I then got the crash tour of SJC as we stopped at the mirador to gaze down at the local surfers below, and I was more than thrilled to see countless jumping rays in the distance. After a while, I was more thrilled to see some massive whales in the distance, surfacing as they swam by! I think they were grays judging by the size, but my whale ID definitely needs some work.

Friday was a lazy day, started off with a beautiful run down to the beach and estuary to get acquainted with the area. We went to a local Mercado for a late lunch (holy chile relleno deliciousness) and some browsing, then stopped off at a very random fair at night. After looked around at the farm animals, we headed to the carnival portion where we were serenaded by X-Files music while eating some of the most spicy, yet delicious tacos I’ve ever tasted. Note to self: sample the habanero sauce before dumping spoonfuls on your tacos. Sadly, that’s a lesson I don’t think I will ever learn. After a firery dinner, we walked some more, watching the deathtrap rides and bizarre games before heading back to crash.

Last tomorrow is a holiday, so Steph had off work Monday and we decided to take a roadtrip up the coast for the long weekend. After a late start, we piled in the jeep and headed up the east coast, stopping many times along the way to gaze into the sea. Almost every time I’d look out into the Sea of Cortez, I would see breeching whales toward the horizon. Yeah, I love this place. Upon reaching the beach where we planned to camp, we noticed many vehicles and decided to continue north to try and find something more secluded. We ended at Nine Palmas, and set up shop between two other campers on the beach. One of them, Ray, is a retired professor from San Diego, and we chatted with him most of the evening, getting more “relaxed” by the minute. Mid-story, as Ray got up to turn his tortillas on the fire, he tripped over a napping dog and straight onto a jagged rock. We knew immediately from his reaction that the result was not going to be good. His leg was gashed open, and most definitely should have required stiches. However, we were well over 2 bumpy hours from any hospital, and it was late at night, so we did a little “wilderness” first aid. Steph’s paramedic experience came in handy and she bandaged the wound as well as possible, and then we all decided it was time to call it a night. We said adios to Ray in the morning, with promises to keep in touch. I’m just praying that leg didn’t get infected after we left. He was more concerned about missing the upcoming swell, and I can’t say I blame him.

We continued north to Cabo Pulmo park, where we stopped for lunch and another beach jaunt. Fishermen were bringing in the day’s catch (4 types pf shark, including a great white!), sea lions hunted just offshore, turtles popped up as they lazily swam around, and countless fish roamed around the rocks. I definitely could have stayed here, but we continued north to restock our supplies and find another spot to camp. As the sun made its last ditch effort to bake us before passing behind the distant mountains, we decided to forgo the town until the morning and pulled off at the first accessible beach for the night. We were met by 4 other campers, a couple from Canada, and one from Germany, who shared some delicious popcorn around a nice campfire that evening. We chatted about life and the future of Baja, as the very place where we sat is prospective land for the “next Cancun” if the Spanish developers have anything to say about it. It’s really heartbreaking to know how much damage can be done to such a beautiful landscape, given the right price. Locals are fighting the development like crazy, but even if it goes through I can’t see much success. There is no freshwater source, aside from the mountains, and the aquifer is already dried up.

Monday was a lazy day of more driving, and a few more hours on the beach. After an early bedtime last night, I was up at the crack of dawn for today’s journey to Todos Santos. I was bummed to walk up to the bus station, just as my bus was pulling away, so I decided to have a cup of coffee as I waited in the shade for the next bus. The ride was about 2.5 hrs due to construction, but I arrived in town before noon. The town is small enough to wander in half a day, so I took my time browsing the galleries of local artists. I must admit, there is some pretty impressive artwork on display, and all the galleries are free. I stumbled upon Hotel California, which is a beautiful old building in the middle of town. It’s rumored to be the hotel, but no one knows for sure. Regardless, the gift shop definitely makes you think so!

I decided to walk about a mile or 2 outside of town to the estuary and beach which I heard was beautiful. Getting there was easy enough, but about a 30 minute walk down a long dirt road. I gazed out at the field of veggies and grazing cows, reminded a bit of home. Finally, I heard the crashing waves as the shaded path opened to a vast, empty beach. I was thrilled! Since I wasn’t yet bikini clad, I figured there was no harm in doing the surfer change on the beach, I was definitely alone after all. Midway through, though, I realized how nice the sun felt on my all too white gringa skin and figured why not just bask for a little while? As I laid there, I suddenly heard the sound of a motor and out of nowhere a 4-wheeler driven by an old gringo couple came tearing by! Aaahh! I was obviously shocked and rushed to put on my suit, but the old dude just yelled, “No worries, it’s all good,” and his wife laughed as they drove by. Embarrassment briefly flashed before me (no pun intended), and then I just had to laugh. Oh well, what can you do? I did opt for the tan lines afterwards, though. :-)

I gazed out into the ocean, as the massive waves of the Pacific crashed onto the beach with intense power, and I was happy the cool ocean spray was enough to lessen my desire to get in. I laid for a while, getting in a few more chapters of my book before beginning the journey back to town.

After my day of walking, I decided a few carne asada tacos were much deserved, so I parked myself a great little taquerilla and enjoyed my last it of time in town. This time, I made it to the station a whole 2 minutes before the bus set out, and was lucky enough to give the driver cash to get a slightly cheaper ticket for the ride home. Just as I drifted off into a happy slumber, the hippy man behind me decided to get up and start banging on his drum. Ugh, so it’s going to be one of those bus rides. Although his songs were amusing, I was not a fan of the wonder snooze time I missed out on. Afterwards, “Hippy 2012” scoured the bus for donations. I opted to play the “sleep card” and saved my pesos for a better cause than this dude’s weed fund.

Sorry for the excessive novel with a lack of creative writing, but I’m thoroughly spent. Hopefully better updates are in store soon, and more misadventures to be detailed. Buenas noches!

xoxoxoxo
Noel

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