BAJA CALIFORNIA SUR
A Southern Circuit - MAY 2014
With the first great road trip behind me I said farewell to the Adelaide boys and wished them luck on their extreme southbound journey. Never one to find myself alone for long, I met two cute young colorado chickie babes on a short Baja holiday, an Aussie dive master at the closing end of a long Central American journey, and two Emily's on a weekend break from a volunteer gig at a nearby ranch.
To top off my good fortune of finding all these great people, I soon found that our unsavoury 24hr hotel shared it's street frontage with a particularly fine taco establishment. It offered all the usual fare (carne, pollo, pescado) but the real kicker was the sting ray!? Toby gave it a crack but I hovered on safe ground with the beef, chicken and fish each time I dined.
I had no expectations of La Paz City so imagine my surprise when we stumbled across some of the most beautiful pristine bays I've ever seen. Aqua clear, entire bays of waste deep water - a 'non swimmers' heaven, and there were more than a few of those! Kayaks and snorkelers meandered around the bay basking in the contrast of the burning sun and the crisp water.
"Rach I saw you up on the hill for ages. Wasn't it hot up there? What were you doing squatting on the edge?" Haha, just taking heaps of self-timer photos of course ;) Got-no-mates but I got a great view!
We checked out a tourist beach on our way back to town but it was kind of busy and noisy. Ice cold beers and generous portions of guacamole made up for the undesireable atmosphere. Yummo!
As the weekend came to a close the Emily's had to get back to the Ranch for work and Toby had plans to drive to the southern tip of Baja to dive Cabo Pulmo. Brilliant! Me too! We can drop the girls, see the Ranch and make it to Cabo Pulmo by sun down. As luck would have it Toby had recently had literally everything he owned stolen out of his car so there was ample room for three extra chickies to slide on in. Tobes may debate whether or not this was a good trade but the girls were happy with the ride.
We delivered the girls safely to the Ranch but Toby and I had no luck getting in contact with anyone or anything at Cabo Pulmo. With the sun setting and no certainty of accommodation or safety at our destination we decided to invite ourselves to stay at the Ranch. I scanned the area and chose an elevated concrete pad to call home for the night. I strung up the mozzie net and started converting my meagre belongings in to a sleeping set up. I whipped the surfboard out and used the case as a sleeping mat, layed my wetsuit underneath for extra padding (now that's a little luxurious), and stuffed my spare clothes inside a tshirt to make a sweet pillow. The girls shared their last beers with us and brought an extroardinary home made salsa while Toby and I had nothing to contribute but a crushed bag of tostadas he had left over in his van. We watched a beautiful sunset and went to bed early as the cold seeped over the land replacing the sun.
In the morning we gathered our gear and had a little laugh at the girls who were already in boots mucking out the yards and tending the vegie patch. Is this a holiday? I never would have thought to volunteer on a Ranch in Baja, Mexico but there you go, the girls made it seem like a pretty cool thing to do after all.
The painted cow skulls clunked as we locked the Ranch gate behind us and hit the road again. We turned off the highway and as the sealed road turned to gravel, then to cracked dust the ocean horizon came in to view. We glanced passed the burning dashboard over the bare plains and came to realise why we weren't able to contact anyone out there... it's the middle of nowhere. Phone lines and internet are a sporadic luxury but in general do exist when the perfect conditions align. An inconvenient place to do business I imagine.
We followed the dust trail hugging the coast glancing sideways at each other... both doubting our trajectory in to nothingness but had stopped commenting on the fact. When we looked online this place had struck me as an established dive destination... so where are all the establishments!? Eventually we reached our dusty goal. Superb! It took us an hour to question both dive operators and discuss our options over beer and burritos before we finally suited up and took the plunge. The diving was okay but not mind blowing, except for a huge bull shark that joined us briefly, now that was actually a little mind blowing I suppose!
We didn't linger long after our dives because Toby, god bless him, had an appointment to make in San Fransisco (northern California) in two days time. He agreed to drop me somewhere in Los Cabos so I'd be able to find food and shelter and we spent our last driving hours debating the actual physical possibility of him making San Fran in two days, even driving without sleep. I do believe that Toby the trooper made it just one day late. A little mexican miracle.
From one extreme to another, Cabo Pulmo to Cabo San Lucas, tinnies on trailers to million dollar docks. Between the temperature raging at approximately one thousand degrees celcius and the low quality fan room my budget allowed I can't say I enjoyed the Cabo region very much. It was a little too pricey, a litte too hot and a little too busy. An absolute highlight was meeting a group of expat men who helped drag my breakfast in to lunch and on to afternoon beers at the marina one day. The four men ranged from mid 40's to 80's and had the carefree air of men who lived full lives and retired with full bank accounts. They joked and swore, telling stories about each other and themsleves and had me cringing and sliding off my bar stool in fits of laughter. Every now and then a serious moment would grip the table and someone would tell me about how Keith had once saved someone's life, how Carston nearly killed someone, and most surprisingly: how Mitch had been an integral member of the dive team who recovered the Apollo 11 astronauts in 1969 securing the worlds first successful moon expedition. I don't think I've spent a day in my life drinking with a more interesting group of lads!
The following day I ventured to the beach early in the morning to lower the risk of heat stroke. The cloudy, tepid water didn't provide any relief so I skulked over to the Tiki Bar where I had agreed to meet Mitch again for breakfast. With icky salt water crystalising on my skin and disolving again in sweat Mitch greeted me with a brilliant idea that cheered me up and introduced me to a few more of the local expat crew. Mitch knew a surfer (Dustan) who just moved in to a big house on the cliffs up north near San Pedritos and was certain I could go crash at his place. Everyone at the table agreed and a buzz of expectation swept the air as Mitch made the call and passed the phone around. Within the hour Dusty had answered Mitch's enthusiastic call about the young Australian surfer girl and whisked me away in his 4wd with his mate Mike. How generous and overwhelming!
On the short drive north to Dustan's we stopped by Mike's place to drop him off and inspect the progress on his block. Red dirt and cactuses blanketed the earth around his trailer and a lazy dog panted away the heat under a plastic chair. We stayed for a couple of beers under the lean to and looked with a great sense of tranquility over the coastline below. Nothing out here to disturb your peace.The guys lifted a few heavy things and poked at the hard ground half heartedly with a shovel before quickly giving up and tossing the Mexican labourer another cold beer for his trouble.
Dustan took me home via Cerritos to check the surf but we found it big and closing out. We followed the standard protocol and drank beers, ate guacamole, and I had a short violent swim in the shore break. His two guard dogs greeted us when we got back to his place and made me wonder if maybe I was a little scared of dogs. Firstly the protective growling and chaotic nipping, then the fear of drowning in passionate dog slobber. A rollercoaster of doggy emotions!
Dusty's place was protected like fort knox. The two dogs perched high on the front wall, the smattering line of glassed concrete and the strings of barbed wire would turn away any casual opportunist theif. That and the local police who could often be seen sharing beers with him on his property. In a sudden lucid moment I wasn't quite sure what to make of my whirlwind adoption when I found myself alone with this stranger isolated high up on the point contained by glass and barbed wire. It turned out to be a great friendship and awesome opportunity, we even returned days later with my new gang of friends to make a bonfire and hang out til the wee hours of the morning. The surf community all over Mexico, whether expats or locals, has never failed to be inclusive and welcoming, supportive and keen to assist. How lucky to feel a part of this outgoing international community of surfers.
I told Dusty I had my eye on a place called San Pescadero Surf Camp that was somewhere "down there" so we threw my gear back in his car and he drove me down to town and asked around until he found what appeared to be the camp. Unfortunately the so called surf camp was miles inland from the coast, but it triggered such a fine chain of events it was all made up for in the end.
The surf camp had a nice shady palapa where I coud pitch my tent with a couple of significant pros and cons. It was in the shade - essential, it was somewhat private - nice, but it had a concrete base - ouch, and was a thriving breeding ground for mosquitos - naw. Shade wins above all else so I smiled and pitched camp without hesitation.
I don't know what I did to deserve such luxury but the camp had a sweet pool with a swim up bar (that we would most definitely take advantage of later), and a fully equipped outdoor kitchen. Awesome! That's a money saver. I jumped in the pool immediately then clunked around the kitchen boiling rice and cooking random things I had ferreted from my pack when fate brought me the nicest surprise! Through the drooping palm fronds I could see two sets of legs and hear someone greeting me in rambling spanish.
As they stooped down to enter the kitchen our eyes popped out of our heads and nearly crashed in to each other - it was Allie and Taylor, the two Colorado chickies from La Paz! They had grown tired of the remote beach camping and lack of facilities so the universe guided us all back together here. Surf and good times for all.
I put my Australian experience to great use while staying there and moved along a few bigger than average spiders that were interfering with our communal bathroom. I had such a great time with the girls at the surf camp, and we even recruited one more chick, Christine, who was amazingly in possession of a borrowed car! We had wheels, we had tents, and we had a gang.
The next best thing that happened to us at Pescadero was meeting One Legged Bill. To help decipher the code name, he was a man called Bill with one leg. Such a character! He's starting a local tour business using that name so next time I'm in the area I guess I can look him up for outdoor adventures but in the meantime we were getting guided for free and loving his company. We spent hours around the pool passing the time doing nothing particularly productive except every now and then the girls would serenade us with beautiful music. Taylor and Allie were traveling with their ukelele and violin and had spent their beach evenings learning to play and sing together. Such a beautiful thing, it really touched Bill and it blew me away. Such gorgeous talented girls, I can't tell you how much I smiled being in their presence.
We eventually made the call that we should move down and camp on the beach. Not much surfing was getting done between dips in the pool and rolling medicinal joints for Bill. We sent a whisper in to the wind of Todos Santos that there were four girls in need of beach real estate to pitch a few tents and in came Ty with a valiant offer of his beach frontage and his down stairs bathroom. Legend.
We scattered our things like only four girls can and claimed every surface in sight with tents, bikinis, surfboards and bags. We have arrived! Prime beach real estate, so close to the water we were getting sprayed by the shore break.
With the swell lines running a little too straight and closing out it turned out that for a couple of days we hardly surfed much at all and when we did we got walloped in the shories.
After only surfing with groups of guys for as long as I can remember I discovered the true awesomeness of "surfing" with a group of girls. Sunbaking, reading books, talking rubbish and sometimes, only sometimes, surfing. What a treat haha.
.JPG)
Ty gets home... "How's the surf been?" Worried he's missed out. "We dunno. We've been sleeping/ sunbaking/ swimming/ reading/ eating all day". We went up the beach for a sunset surf one day and grouped up with a bunch of guys who were camping nearby and ended the night with a nice bonfire. We walked home under a full shelter of blazing stars that night making grand plans to surf more often and meet more people.
Another fun thing about hanging out with girls is the hours and hours of mucking around doing hand stands and bend backs playing in the sand. Certainly gives "throwing rocks" a run for it's money hey Adelaide boys?
My lovely mermaids serenaded me one last time before we were due to leave the west coast and head back to La Paz where we would part ways. I can't imagine a more special tune has ever been sung, such talent and such passion. Lovely little ladies.
On our last sunset Ty and Ty (there were two Ty's living there) took advantage of some of the gorgeous ladies they had on premises and did a photoshoot featuring Allie and some of their new surfboard designs.
Such great guys and a great all round crew to have hung out with. Not much to do now but start gathering the explosion of our things and prepare for the next leg of our journeys.
Ty took us girls to town for our last breaky before the bus and we had a slight Alice in Wonderland experience. The night before I had been presented with a Coronita for the first time (half size corona bottle) that gave me a big hand, tiny bottle, Alice in Wonderland vibe. Then to follow up the crazy coronita we were faced with gigantic soup-bowlesque coffee cups when we ordered small coffees that morning. Bowl of coffee anyone? Nobody, and I mean nobody, is napping on the La Paz bus today. Bzzzz. We hit the road wired on caffiene and chatted like school girls the whole way east.
From our shared hotel room in La Paz the next morning Allie and Taylor caught a taxi at crazy-o'clock to make their flight homeward bound while I made plans to catch the 19 hour ferry to Mazatlan, mainland Mexico. I saw a stunning sunset that lingered longer than usual as the ferry pull away to make the crossing of the Gulf of California and I thanked mother nature for the fine send off.
I sat next to a guy called Mark who I ended up traveling with for the next couple of weeks from La Paz to Mazatlan, and eventually on to Puerto Vallarta. Never alone for long. Such a lucky ride I'm on this lifetime.
