The waters turn to turquoise, the sands to white, and all is right in the world. Well, at least for week seven, which takes place once again in the Baja.
Words taken from my daily journals, with some enhancements…..here or there.
Laguna Ojo De Liebre: Sitting on the dirt floor of a palm hut (aka palapa) while looking out at the dark blue cold waters of the Pacific. It’s overcast, cool, yet peaceful.
Yesterday, I was exhausted. The lack of sleep due to the wild winds of Bahia de Los Angeles, too much tequila from margaritas as big as your head, and the hot breath of the devil blowing down my neck, added up to too much! I welcome the near cold of the Laguna. It’s amazing the difference in temperatures between the Pacific and Sea of Cortez side.
Crab in the sand at the Laguna and the inside of a palapa
On the drive here, the terrain changed from lush desert life to sparse scattered cacti to really no plants. Just sand. We went through our first military check point. They stopped and asked me questions in Español. I froze. Forgetting English and any bits of Spanish. My thoughts were focused on the machine gun casually strapped to this young Mexican, like a purse. I hadn’t seen a site like this since walking home over the Williamsburg Bridge after 9/11.
With memories and languages swirling in my head, we passed through the check point but not before almost running over one of the guards. For some reason, he had decided to step in front of the RV just as the other guard motioned for me to drive forward. I thanked my lucky stars that I wasn’t going to have a first class ticket to a Mexican Prison!!!
Eye of the Jackrabbit
We drove through miles of salt mines to get to this epic and empty campsite. It was surreal to drive through such beauty with industry near by to suck up the salt and ship it out. The road was sooooo evil, washboard gravel for the entire 37 km. I had to drive about 20 mph. (I know miles and km, my mind is swirling again) Finally, we arrived to the end of the season whale mecca. Each site had a palapa and sea views. The area had bio toilets and a restaurant (closed for the season). The next morning’s run was full of enjoyment as I paced down deserted sandy roads, passing whalebones and bird perches.
Close up salt photos
Ignacio Springs Bed & Breakfast: Sitting outside our villa/room drinking hot tea in a mug that speaks to me, “Do Epic Shit!” It’s another cool morning. I’m enjoying the sounds of the birds but not the traffic. The road roars so loud I feel they are sitting right next to me, hogging the lovely birdsongs.
We visited the square in San Ignacio yesterday. And there she was, my first mission in Mexico to explore! It was amazing, the details and crazy beautiful architecture. I was totally impressed. The tall domes reached so high in the sky, making me feel tiny as an ant. I can see the hands in the details of the carved delicate wood pieces throughout. The massively wooden gold altar stood tall, covered with oil painted portraits of masterpieces. I stood where others have been coming for support, comfort, advice, help, salvation, community, and devotion since the 1800’s. Their energy flowed around; I could feel other’s faith, their love, their ability to put their power in something bigger than themselves. I’m not a religious person but no matter anyones views or beliefs, you couldn’t ignore the massive love, hope, salvation, and serenity that filled these old stonewalls.
The Mision and all it’s detailed glory
I’m not really a water person. Not that I don’t like the water, it’s just that I’m an earth sign and a girl who LOVES the dirt. But today I took a leap and dove into a kayak. The time I spent canoeing as a kid paid off! I wondered round for a bit, paddling here and there. After a short jaunt, I explored the rest of the Oasis. The Canadian couple owners bring love and life to this place. I was especially excited to look through their free library picking of a Brene Brown book to add to my growing road collection. With the bar right here, and my new book, it must be siesta time. Awe, Mexico is totally growing on me.
Playa de Santispac: At Armando’s drinking a cupa de vino tinto (glass of red wine, no cerveza for this gluten intolerant lady) looking out at the crisp blue turquoise waters while waiting, patiently, for my tacos de carne. I think I’m in heaven!
The beaches are breath taking here, turquoise with white sands. The waters are crystal clear and scattered with sailboats. It’s pretty perfect, if beaches are your thing. But the highway near by is really distracting, kind of kills nature when you hear speeding simi’s rushing by.
As the sunset, a fellow who was camping next to us with his friends, came by to chat. I have found, like myself, Mexicans are eager to practice their foreign language skills. Peter spoke as much English as I spoke Spanish but we both worked at it, patiently. I got his name, Peter, that he was riding motor bikes with his friends from the main land of Mexico up through the Baja. He didn’t enjoy the cold evening. He preferred the weather to be hot. I enjoyed our brief connection. Made me wonder, could I live here? Would I be happy in the Baja? On the beach? Would I be happy anywhere? I seem to find myself at home, nowhere. Does that makes the perfect nomad?