South of the Border

While in San Diego, we decided it was time to go to Mexico! We loaded up in a new Jeep Cherokee and headed south of Chula Vista to the Border. The border check was basically slow and uneventful.

On the other side of the checkpoint was another story. Just outside of Tijuana, we were overtaken by Mexican commerce, people selling everything: food, flowers, trinkets and other things a "G" rated journal won't mention. We bought nothing but Mexican auto insurance for the jeep. It seemed like a very good idea. Outside of the tiny "insurance" officia, an Eddie Bauer Edition Ford Explorer with US plates was strategically positioned. It was severely twisted into a snarl of metal with glistening chips of glass on the dash and in the seats. Beat the heck out of a billboard! A sound reminder to drive carefully while incountry.

The infrastucture of TJ was crumbling. Large chunks of cement had fallen from an overpass to the road below. The buildings were in disrepair and the bright colors of San Diego had turned to brown from a lack of water and steady day time sunlight. Children played soccer on green asphalt surfaces. Signs indicated the locale of debauchery and high risk. We drove past all this into the Mexican countryside.

White US Border Patrol SUVs sat on ridges and gravel roads south of TJ. Corrugated tin and wooden dwellings were supplied with water and electricity with above ground systems that looked strange and obselete. Now there was no one to see. The people all disappeared for a brief time as we barreled down the road toward Puerto Nuevo. 

Our first stop was a little convenience store and Mexican buffet on the side of the road. It was a bathroom break. The store had Cuban cigars in a glass case that were unbelievably inexpensive. I asked the store employee if the cigars were geniune and of course he said "si". My guess was someone saved the rings from Cohibas, Romeo and Julietas, etc. and placed them on the inferior smokes in the display. We'll never know. The buffet next door was amazing. the food was plentiful and smelled so good. We did not eat there because this was not a destination in our plans. We were headed to a seaside village called Rosarita.

Rosarita was a busy little place. Policeman dressed in heavy, long sleeved brown uniforms walked the streets carrying weapons strapped to their shoulders. The main street was dotted with bars, pharmacies and shops for gringos to spend their dollars. We shopped the outdoor markets and negotiated with the vendors. The exchange was favorable and spending money was fun again, unlike San Diego. Signs were nailed to utility poles stating some rapper named "Eminem" was performing somewhere nearby over the weekend. Old women asked for money and children ran into us constantly as we made our way through the streets. We walked the hilly little streets looking for food, beer and tequila. Finally we found a huge place on the beach called "Papas and Beers". Potatoes and Beer-besides a dog, these are a man's best friends! What a place.

Inside the fort-like structure we found a volleyball paradise with music blaring through amplike speakers and people everywhere. The crowd was mostly college and military, with some scattered diversity here and there. This place was a party. The food was OK and the drinks potent. It was like playing the stock market too. The prices varied depending on which waiter came by. We quickly learned to retain our favorite by tipping up. The wall facing the Pacific was a hugh plexi windshield. We claimed a table in the sun, watched the waves crash on the beach, horseback riders pass by and a few other interesting things. This was a good place. With a nice afternoon ending, and a sun and booze buzz, we were ready for some real food. We found the jeep in great shape where we had left it on the main road. We loaded up, rearranged the cheap liquor and souvies, in search of a real meal.

Heading south, we were back in the brown fantasy land. The skies and the Pacific provided a striking blue contrast to the dreary, dry browns of the landscape. We found our destination, a tiny fishing village called Puerto Nuevo. Sombreros, trinkets and crafts on display again. Grotesque and eerie masks, surreal indian art and interesting jewelry hung on the walls of one tent, reminding us of the mystical nature of these people.

As we descended the down the main street of the village, the ocean came back into view. These were the waters the movie "Titanic" was filmed in. I wonder how they got it so cold?  We chose a eating place and made our way into the building. It was a beautiful restaurant with dark wood, wrought iron and stained glass. The place was very clean and the clientele obviously well-to-do. We ordered huge steaks, lobster and margaritas all around. The tab was 890 pesos, with tip, for four people. That's about 90 dollars. Wow!

After dinner we shopped a little more and them headed back to San Diego. It was a good day!