Baja Entry 2

1/13/09 5:35PM Beach in Santa Rosallilita (on the Pacific Ocean)

Que esta nuestro destino? (What is our destination?)

Donde esta mas cercana? (Where's the nearest campsite?)

We've landed on the beach. Yesterday was spent with the "systema loca" of securing proper travel documents for our travels in Baja. ("Systema loca" is a term another traveler, whom we ran into at the government office and then the bank to pay the fee, said when she was trying to help me communicate with the bank teller.) We had a hearty breakfast at Alfonso's in Ensenada, where Alfonso actually recognized Carl from previous visits, then walked back and forth and back again between the Mexican government office to HSBC Banco, due to some ridiculousness charged when one does not secure proper docs at the border.

In any case, once we got on our way, we stopped to load up on food for the next few days. This was the first of many grocery trips in which at least half the time is spent trying to make sure we are getting everything on the list and the other half is spent telling Domingo to put down the gigante marshmallows or listening to Carl say, "Why the fuck did you get that? That was in our side of the store. Get the shit on the side you were supposed to shop in!"

We spent 30 minutes or so at a stop about 2 hours later, eating pollo tacos at a roadside stand. Finally stopped, in the dark no less, at Celito Lindo (to be honest that could just be generic for "Hotel" but I just record what I see on the signs). We set up camp after mucho mumbles and grumbles due to tent difficulties (see: Carl smacking Domingo). Funny moment: realizing that the tent loaned to Courtney by Octo-Chris was, indeed, a solo tent. No worries though, she and I shared it while the boys shared the 4-man tent. I'd say we "sniggled" in reference to Metro's attempt to define the word "sniggle" as when a black person/people snuggle, but we didn't actually sniggle or snuggle. We pretty much passed out. Anyways, an attempt was made to wander on the beach, however a muddy marsh divided us and the ocean and further exploration was hindered by the darkness. And the drunkeness.

Funny moment: there was practically a full moon and Domingo was complaining about how the moon wasn't bright enough. How much brighter can it be? I mean really? Anyways, Carl also took the liberty of re-making himself as the Mexican version of the bushman (you know, the dude that hides behind pieces of shrubbery on the Embarcadero, jumps out at you, scares the shit out of you, and then begs for change), which scared the piss out of Courtney, Mingo, and myself, haha.

Other funny observations: Blackness is incapable of totally shutting a car door, Randall is officially "Lemur" and no one calls him by his actual name, and that freaking Beyonce song, "All the Single Ladies," is abso-fucking-lutely contagious. We've remade it to: "If you liked it then you should've put a Lemur on it." OK, break now. We're setting up camp on the beach (GORGEOUS) and sipping Tecates. Grilled pollo for dinner, yum!