Ahhhh . . . the Baja

 

If God did spend seven days making the world, I can't help but imagine (S)He must have done it here, somewhere on a beach in the Bahai de la Conception. 

(Editor's note: I will figure out how to add accents but it requires a video watch and I hate those, so bear with me for one more post littered with unaccented Spanish.)

Turquoise-watered, white-sanded, sun-spread, and star-lighted  - these Baja beaches are a testament to creation, to life, to existence. You can't stare out into the bays without seeing something - a pair of diving dolphins, a bombing blue-footed booby, a leaping manta ray, or simply the milky way that you haven't seen in years for all the light pollution. It takes your breath away and would be heaven, if not for the banos - those really take your breath away. 

Sunset at Campo Archelon

For a small-ish fee (or sometimes for free) you can set your van up next to a palapa and sleep right there, next to the ocean., van doors open to the rising moon and lapping tides. Which is what we did, in various bays and beaches, for roughly seven nights straight.  

Palapa view from Playa Santispac

Sunrise at Campo Archelon

Here's a quick run down of the highlights.

Bahai de Los Angeles: Ivan and I swam with whale sharks and a sea lion, on a boat cruise with our lovely neighbours, a Belgium couple and their children, in the UNESCO protected biosphere reserve. Our guide was a wildlife photographer.  He'd filmed for Discovery Channel's Shark Week and swam with great whites around the world. So we were in good hands. He dove with us, keeping his arm up so we knew where to aim for, and got us amazing underwater videos of the sharks, which are actually fish and look nothing (as he kept telling us) like the whale shark in Finding Nemo. 

We're off to find whale sharks!

Dolphins!

Whale Shark!

Swimming to catch that whale shark

Coming up to La Ventana (window) Rock Formation

La Ventana in its glory

Sea lions at Scull Island (it really looks like a scull)

View from on top of an island mountain

Playa La Gringa: This beach is a popular free camping site for RV'ers, and sure enough, RV's were lined along its rocky shores. But it's early season, so still lots of space for us. The highlight for me was when we saved a Humboldt squid who'd washed up on the beach by pushing him back out to water using the handle of our van broom. I kept him wet by splashing him with water while Ivan fetched the broom, and the squid looked me right in the eye. Once back in the water, he followed us as we walked along the shore, as though sticking with us, until it finally propelled itself away. It was like I made a friend.

We then snorkeled with an angel (pronounced an-hel) - a red setter stray that herded us together as we explored the fish in the underwater rocks. The dog was christened angel by a beautiful Mexican woman (and owner of 10 dogs) that we met on the beach. 

The same woman, by the way, also made us question whether we'd really saved that squid by pointing to a somewhat familiar-looking dead Humboldt at her feet to show us how it had been slashed to death by motor boat propellors. Was it the same squid? Our squid? We prefer to think not.

Culture on a cactus. Classic.

The squid we think we saved.

Angel, our snorkeling guide dog

Fire for our last night at Campo Archelon

Mulege Beach: After exploring the rocky shores of Mulege, a colourful, laid-back Mexican resort town with a lush green river running through its centre, and drinking cervesas in a shaded courtyard during siesta, we found free camping at the public beach. We parked away from the crowds, on a spit of land by the lighthouse and the river's end, and watched the Beaver moon rise over the ocean. We awoke to a stunning orange sun rise shining through our front window - and a perilously close high tide lapping at our rear tires. We made it out ok, but it was a good reminder that you can get too close to a good thing sometimes.

The sea view outside of our back door.

Dinner on the way as the Beaver moon rises.

And here she is.

Mission San Ignacio

Playa Santispac: Here we kayaked with dolphins, several of which surfaced only a hundred meters or so ahead of us. We also kayaked on top of a bait ball. Hundreds of silvery fish would suddenly leap out of the water all at once as the dolphins and large fish attacked from underneath. When the fleeing fish hit the water, it sounded like a massive silver cutlery drawer being thrown on the floor. When we finally reached an uninhabited island, we snorkled and saw a grey angel fish as big as my head - maybe bigger - while the seagulls stole our snacks. But we were lucky, because back on the beach, as we caught up on emails, we were given a "snack" - a plateful of charcoaled beef and homemade quacamole - from our palapa neighbours, a young couple very much in love. I returned the favour with a very poorly formed first attempt at a gordito covered in black beans that I massacred when I tried to cut it in half for them. Looked like shit on a brick, covered in torn newspaper, but they were gracious and said it was muy deliciouso.

Our neighbour's steak and guacamole snack

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Standing by my kayak after an amazing day on the water

Our palapa view at Santispac

Playa la Perla: We saved the most beautiful beach for last. La Perla is the bluest, most serene and isolated beach we saw in the area. We were the only ones there except for some Albertans who'd been there a week and couldn't seem to pull themselves away. The place was run by Senora Rosa, an elderly Mexican woman who still wore traditional clothing and whose sons fished every day in an old dingy, like something in an old Hemmingway novel. It was so dark we could skinny dip under the cover of night, just before the moon rose, and the stars were so bright we competed for who could see the most shooting stars. It was so amazing, to be honest, that we didn't really get any photos.

View from La Perla to the adjacent beach, Playa de la Requeson

Like the Albertans, we could have been sucked in here for months. But, having run out of pesos (and not had a shower since Bahai de Los Angeles) it was time to get to Loreto, our first town since Mulege. Here we got the best fish tacos ever at El Rey Del Taco. 

You get three choices of taco fillings and a choice between corn or flour tortillas. You will then be asked whether or not you want the roasted chili. You so do want that roasted chili, trust me, though you can't be sure which kind - or how hot - a chili you will get. 

Tacos de pescados

You will also be asked if you want one or two tacos. We both said two and ended up not having dinner as a result, so light eaters beware.

When your tacos arrive, which they do in very much Mexican time, you then go to a smorgasbord bar to top it however you like it. The place is famous. Between its bar-seated patrons, those of us seated at tables, and the multitudes lined up outside at the takeaway stand, the place is always serving. 

If you come, you really do need to eat here. But be warned: the fellow diners and 30+-year expats who joined us at our table did mention that the drug wars have increased, even in the sleepy local villages around here. "People are dying - eve here," the wife said, as her husband pointed his index finger in the air and mouthed bang, bang. So... there's that.

Now we're camped at Palmas Altas (tall pines) in a gorgeous campground that boasts a microbakery and pool - neither of which are open. We're the only occupants, actually, barring two caged bunny rabbits, a rooster, and resident buhos (owls) who make beautiful calls at night. 

We're also right in the centre of the city and only two blocs from the main highway running past the beach. Here, every night ,locals cruise up and down the streets in their carros, Mexican music blasting from their open windows. 

Some of the locals beach their tucks like whales in front of the hotels, hop out of their cars and drink on the sidewalk together. They crank up their car stereos in an attempt to have their rancho music drown out the nearby Mexican rap - or vice versa. Until the policia arrive that is. Then one of the members hurries to dump a plastic bucket of what I assume is mescal or tequila on the street. Another turns down the volume. At least until the police rejoin the circling cars. Then it all begins again. 

So much fun.

Laundry is drying, bed is aired and we're ready to tackle some canyons tomorrow. I hope everyone is handling the snow OK, and that it stays at least long enough to ski!