It only took a year to finish typing and posting my Baja journal, but yes it is done! My next mission is to post some of the pictures from the trip, namely the plantation-style family photo we took the morning we left our Cribs: Mulege casa...some people say a picture can speak a thousand words, in which case my entire Baja journal is basically a moot point next to this picture, but nonetheless I am glad I took the time, hungover at times and with possibly broken/definitely sprained fingers (yeah...about that...).
Anyways, one of my ambitions resolutions for the new year is to write more. So perhaps that will actually happen on this blog, although if past behavior is the best indicator for future behavior it's unlikely much will happen on this blog in the next year. In any case, come back and see my blog again sometime, if only to marvel at just how silly 6 grown adults can be when traveling together for 12 days, to wonder about how much time I can spend talking about the food we ate and the excessive number of times I use the words "forge" and "retire" in my Baja entries, and to question the ridiculous phrases I throw randomly around, thanks to the wonders of stupid American travel books....
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Friday, January 8, 2010
Baja Entry #10
1/22/09 9:23AM IABA-North Office, Oakland, CA (I'm back at work, but clearly not working...)
OK, so we spent most of Tuesday, 1/20, driving from Santa Rosallilita to Ensenada. We stopped to eat tacos at Carl's favorite spot in Ensenada. They were delicious, especially the al pastor tacos. We got to the border and didn't wait more than 30 minutes to cross. There were lots of vendors, disabled people peddling for money, and other random people moving up and down the spaces between lanes, trying to get your money before you cross back to the U.S. the line of cars going into Mexico, however, was quite long. Carl commented that it was commuters; people who live in Mexico but work in the States. He also noted that this border crossing was the busiest in the world. After passing through we stopped in the Hillcrest area of San Diego. Lemur and Mingo had technical difficulties parking the truck so Carl, angry as ever, said "Fuck it" and we drove onto Cardiff to camp at the state beach where the guys will likely come next month and camp during Rugby 7s.
We all showered in the nice, hot campsite showers (seriously, they were glorious after not having a real shower in days) and set up our tents. Court is covered in some kind of itchy rash, she thinks it's from beach fleas, so she slept in the Cheyenne while I got the 1-man tent to myself. In her defense, Carl and I both have milder versions of the rash. We made a Jack-in-the-Box run, (after a little bit of a huff from Domingo because Carl gave me the keys to the Cayenne and when Mingo asked to drive Carl said, "If you want to drive, then drive your truck," and after Mingo's continued protests he reminded him, "No one likes it when you drive." That pretty much ended that.) and post-ingesting disgusting American fast food everyone pretty much crashed out.
The camp didn't really get moving until about 8:30AM on 1/21. The boys wanted to shower before we left, so Court and I took the Cheyenne to the nearest Starbucks to get some coffee and pick up smokes at the 7-11 (as opposed to the "Eleven Seven" store we saw on Hwy 1 in Baja, haha). We met a lady there who struck up a convo about rugby with us based on seeing my Stanford 10s tournament t-shirt. Apparently her son had played rugby at Stanford (which means he was likely a douchebag AND a poor rugby player, but hey, she seemed nice enough) and we talked about rugby and she said she was considering going to the international 7s tourney next month. I encouraged her to go, then we said our goodbyes and left to get back to camp. The weather had been cloudy from Santa Rosallilita, well really since our last day on Santispac, up until we got to San Diego. It was drizzling rain, but still warm--gotta love San Diego. The breaks were also amazing and surfers were all over the place as we pulled out from San Elijo in Cardiff to hit the road home on our final day. We stopped about an hour later to eat at Denny's. We stopped again at the grapevine to get snacks and drinks, then forged on ahead. There wasn't a lot of talking amongst Carl, Blackness, Courtney and I. I venture to guess we all wanted to get home, even though we knew that return also meant the end of the voyage and back to normal life with constant phone calls, text messages, e-mails, working, working, working, existing within the boundaries of walled buildings and no more warm sun until spring...So for the majority of the ride, after I got tired of listening to random XM radio stations, I put on my iPod and zoned out. We stopped one more time at Taco Bell (nothing but the best yo), and then we boarded our vehicles and did not stop until we'd reached the drop off point for Blackness (Folsom & 3rd in SF). We had a bit of a delay, as Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Lemur drove past us and had to circle around, Carl cursing all the while as per usual. After saying our farewells, we drove to Carl and Domingo's to unload the rest of the stuff. I offered to take Courtney home and save Carl the time of dropping her off. Of course Lemur took his sweet ass time getting his crap together, which had managed to spread itself all over the backseat of the truck...We took a roundabout route to drop off Court. What's a few extra minutes on a 12-day trip? Then Lemur and I drove across the Bay Bridge back to Berkeley. During the drive from SD I had realized I didn't have much food at home, so I made a list on the trip home. I mentioned to Lemur I'd be stopping at the store near his apartment and he decided to join me.
Finally, I returned home to find both my roommates there. Bear came and greeted me warmly, lots of tailwagging and a big dog smile. I had some rotten food to throw away and clothes to wash, for fear of beach flea infestation and more rashes. I took a shower without flip-flops on for the first time in 10 days and checked my scores of e-mails. It was strange to be home, strange that it all had ended. By 11PM I was overwhelmingly tired. I retired to bed, setting my alarm for work the following morning as I'd done 100s of times before. However, somehow it was different this time. My room seemed quieter than I'd grown accustomed to after sleeping in tents with people literally inches away for the last 10 days or so. I didn't want to settle back into my old routine, however it seemed I had little choice but to do so. There was something comforting in the old routine, but there was also something inside me that rebelled against it. It was the part of me that enjoyed feeling sand between my toes and seeing waves crashing against the beach 80 feet from my unzipped tent window, the part of me that relished the chance to go to sleep under the bright, full moon and thousands of stars and wake up just as the sun was rising and making the sky look as if it'd been painted with brushstrokes of pinks and purples. It was the part of me that loved cooking outside, then sitting in chairs and sharing the meal with a group of friends, no TV on or internet connections or text messages interrupting our meals, just people talking and listening and maybe some music playing that we can occasionally sing to or dance with. And as I fell asleep, listening to the raindrops on my window and feeling cold for the first time in days, I couldn't help but wonder when I'd get another chance to get away from "normal" life and the daily routine and to free myself of all responsibilities except to feed, clothe, and wash myself and think and say to the other people around me, "If this isn't nice, then I don't know what is"...
OK, so we spent most of Tuesday, 1/20, driving from Santa Rosallilita to Ensenada. We stopped to eat tacos at Carl's favorite spot in Ensenada. They were delicious, especially the al pastor tacos. We got to the border and didn't wait more than 30 minutes to cross. There were lots of vendors, disabled people peddling for money, and other random people moving up and down the spaces between lanes, trying to get your money before you cross back to the U.S. the line of cars going into Mexico, however, was quite long. Carl commented that it was commuters; people who live in Mexico but work in the States. He also noted that this border crossing was the busiest in the world. After passing through we stopped in the Hillcrest area of San Diego. Lemur and Mingo had technical difficulties parking the truck so Carl, angry as ever, said "Fuck it" and we drove onto Cardiff to camp at the state beach where the guys will likely come next month and camp during Rugby 7s.
We all showered in the nice, hot campsite showers (seriously, they were glorious after not having a real shower in days) and set up our tents. Court is covered in some kind of itchy rash, she thinks it's from beach fleas, so she slept in the Cheyenne while I got the 1-man tent to myself. In her defense, Carl and I both have milder versions of the rash. We made a Jack-in-the-Box run, (after a little bit of a huff from Domingo because Carl gave me the keys to the Cayenne and when Mingo asked to drive Carl said, "If you want to drive, then drive your truck," and after Mingo's continued protests he reminded him, "No one likes it when you drive." That pretty much ended that.) and post-ingesting disgusting American fast food everyone pretty much crashed out.
The camp didn't really get moving until about 8:30AM on 1/21. The boys wanted to shower before we left, so Court and I took the Cheyenne to the nearest Starbucks to get some coffee and pick up smokes at the 7-11 (as opposed to the "Eleven Seven" store we saw on Hwy 1 in Baja, haha). We met a lady there who struck up a convo about rugby with us based on seeing my Stanford 10s tournament t-shirt. Apparently her son had played rugby at Stanford (which means he was likely a douchebag AND a poor rugby player, but hey, she seemed nice enough) and we talked about rugby and she said she was considering going to the international 7s tourney next month. I encouraged her to go, then we said our goodbyes and left to get back to camp. The weather had been cloudy from Santa Rosallilita, well really since our last day on Santispac, up until we got to San Diego. It was drizzling rain, but still warm--gotta love San Diego. The breaks were also amazing and surfers were all over the place as we pulled out from San Elijo in Cardiff to hit the road home on our final day. We stopped about an hour later to eat at Denny's. We stopped again at the grapevine to get snacks and drinks, then forged on ahead. There wasn't a lot of talking amongst Carl, Blackness, Courtney and I. I venture to guess we all wanted to get home, even though we knew that return also meant the end of the voyage and back to normal life with constant phone calls, text messages, e-mails, working, working, working, existing within the boundaries of walled buildings and no more warm sun until spring...So for the majority of the ride, after I got tired of listening to random XM radio stations, I put on my iPod and zoned out. We stopped one more time at Taco Bell (nothing but the best yo), and then we boarded our vehicles and did not stop until we'd reached the drop off point for Blackness (Folsom & 3rd in SF). We had a bit of a delay, as Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Lemur drove past us and had to circle around, Carl cursing all the while as per usual. After saying our farewells, we drove to Carl and Domingo's to unload the rest of the stuff. I offered to take Courtney home and save Carl the time of dropping her off. Of course Lemur took his sweet ass time getting his crap together, which had managed to spread itself all over the backseat of the truck...We took a roundabout route to drop off Court. What's a few extra minutes on a 12-day trip? Then Lemur and I drove across the Bay Bridge back to Berkeley. During the drive from SD I had realized I didn't have much food at home, so I made a list on the trip home. I mentioned to Lemur I'd be stopping at the store near his apartment and he decided to join me.
Finally, I returned home to find both my roommates there. Bear came and greeted me warmly, lots of tailwagging and a big dog smile. I had some rotten food to throw away and clothes to wash, for fear of beach flea infestation and more rashes. I took a shower without flip-flops on for the first time in 10 days and checked my scores of e-mails. It was strange to be home, strange that it all had ended. By 11PM I was overwhelmingly tired. I retired to bed, setting my alarm for work the following morning as I'd done 100s of times before. However, somehow it was different this time. My room seemed quieter than I'd grown accustomed to after sleeping in tents with people literally inches away for the last 10 days or so. I didn't want to settle back into my old routine, however it seemed I had little choice but to do so. There was something comforting in the old routine, but there was also something inside me that rebelled against it. It was the part of me that enjoyed feeling sand between my toes and seeing waves crashing against the beach 80 feet from my unzipped tent window, the part of me that relished the chance to go to sleep under the bright, full moon and thousands of stars and wake up just as the sun was rising and making the sky look as if it'd been painted with brushstrokes of pinks and purples. It was the part of me that loved cooking outside, then sitting in chairs and sharing the meal with a group of friends, no TV on or internet connections or text messages interrupting our meals, just people talking and listening and maybe some music playing that we can occasionally sing to or dance with. And as I fell asleep, listening to the raindrops on my window and feeling cold for the first time in days, I couldn't help but wonder when I'd get another chance to get away from "normal" life and the daily routine and to free myself of all responsibilities except to feed, clothe, and wash myself and think and say to the other people around me, "If this isn't nice, then I don't know what is"...
THE END
Baja Entry #9
1/21/09 8:31AM San Eliho State Beach, Cardiff, CA (Campsite #88)
After breakfast we loaded up all our stuff and said "adios" to Santa Rosallilita. Lemur drove Mingo's truck and Court and I rode with Carl and Blackness in the Cayenne. We wanted to listen to the Inauguration on Carl's XM in the Cayenne (or "I-nagger-ation 09" as Courtney lovingly refers to it). However, we didn't depart until 9:38AM PST, which was about 38 minutes after the inauguration and 20 or so after President Obama gave his inaugural address. But we listened to CNN and Fox News (Carl's a Republican, remember?) coverage of the events and commentary regarding Obama's speech. OK, need to break here til later so I can pack up. To be continued...
After breakfast we loaded up all our stuff and said "adios" to Santa Rosallilita. Lemur drove Mingo's truck and Court and I rode with Carl and Blackness in the Cayenne. We wanted to listen to the Inauguration on Carl's XM in the Cayenne (or "I-nagger-ation 09" as Courtney lovingly refers to it). However, we didn't depart until 9:38AM PST, which was about 38 minutes after the inauguration and 20 or so after President Obama gave his inaugural address. But we listened to CNN and Fox News (Carl's a Republican, remember?) coverage of the events and commentary regarding Obama's speech. OK, need to break here til later so I can pack up. To be continued...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
