Parting Shots

When we drove out of Santa Rosalia last Friday my goal was to stop at the little marble shop Rancho Sonora at kilometer 149 just north of Catavina to purchase a few marble wind chimes for Esperando’s children, a small token of melodious sound from Mexico. I bought wind chimes there last year when the Brainy Blonde came for a visit and we were driving down from San Diego. It’s kind of a crappy little store all by itself out in the middle of dust and cactus, just a notch up from being a palapa. Then it was manned by a fat Mexican man about my age and his 30-plus year old son who put the hard sell on both of us to buy, buy, buy.

The out in the middle of nowhere marble store

This time Esperando opted to stay in the car for a small snooze since he had been driving continuously for the last 5 hours. I wandered by myself past the two ubiquitous dusty dogs that hung out on the porch, up to open the screen door and went inside. The room was dimly lit. Several shelves bore carvings of alabaster, and hundreds pale alabaster silhouettes hung from the ceiling in the form of wind chimes: turtles, dolphins, sharks, fish, whales, seahorses, stars, moons, suns, horses, seagulls, and so on. I knew already that I wanted sets of sun and moon wind chimes. A fat Mexican man about my age came out from behind the counter and asked if he could help me. So then I told him I wanted three sets of sun and moon chimes, but how much did they cost. Only 100 pesos per wind chime, such a deal! He had them prepackaged, wrapped up in sheets of newspaper. He sorted through them to find the ones I wanted and told me it would be 300 pesos, “What is your name?” he said. I told him. “I am Santiago,” he said.

Then I gave him 400 pesos and he started across the room to where he kept his change. Then he stopped dead in his tracks. “I don’t have change,” he said. “Oh ok, I will go back to the car, I think I have the right change,” I said.

Alabaster seahorse necklace

Out I bopped and said the to slumbering Esperando, “I need 100 pesos.” “Oh,” he said, “I thought I would get more of a snooze.” Wherewith he took his wallet from his pocket and passed the pesos over to me. I returned to the shop and gave Santiago the money. Before he would give me the bag, he started across the room to where he had some individual carvings, like the pieces in the windchime, that were hung on cords for use as necklaces. He chose a seahorse, and I thought he was going to try and sell it to me. Instead he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me to him, thrusting the seahorse in my hands and trying to kiss me on the lips. I turned my check to his lips, muttered gracias for the osequio, a little gift, the price of which was an undesireable kiss and a walloping waft of aftershave which he had applied liberally in my absence. I made a beeline out the door and ran back to the car to tell Esperando what had happened. As we drove off Esperando cackled over my mishap and Francisco’s dogs gave chase to the car. Lupita barked back as fiercely as she could. We both gagged for the next 3 hours on the fumes that adhered to my cheek.

The thing is when he stopped to say he didn’t have change, and I said I would go back to get some, he already had the whole thing planned. He knew he was going to put aftershave on the minute I left. He knew he was going to steal a kiss if he could. I was the fly walking into his little spider web. Ladies, be forewarned. If you stop to buy some marble—DON’T GO INTO HIS SHOP ALONE!!

Happy windchime recipient displaying her acquisition

Our Wedding Anniversary

Esperando was out of town in Washington, D.C. on our wedding anniversary. Bummer! And that was the day I thought I had discovered that I had—worms! The thought that my body might be infested with an alien life form was almost more than I could handle. It made my skin crawl. I told Esperando on the phone that I didn't want to live here anymore. I made a doctor’s appointment for 11:30 am and sat in his office waiting until 1:00 pm for him to arrive. I stifled the urge to cry.

Street food vendors are always suspect

One of the hazards of living south of the border, or anywhere where the food or water can be suspect, is parasites. To avoid this problem, one is encouraged to soak any raw vegetables in a microbial water solution, don’t eat street food, drink only purified water, wash your hands after going to the bathroom and before eating, etc. Which of these I failed to do properly is hard to say, except that I did eat sushi made from yellowtail that was freshly caught here in the Sea of Cortez by The Cowboy several months ago. At the time it was delicious, but afterwards I read you could get roundworms from ocean fish and you wouldn’t be able to see them in their flesh.    

Ascaris--it said that an adult female may measure 35 centimeters

 in length and lays up to 200,000 eggs per day.

The doctor finally arrived, ushered me into his office and asked what was wrong. “I think I have gusanos,” I said. “No, here we call them ascaris,” he said. That he seemed inclined to agree with my diagnosis and confirm my worse fears was devastating. After checking me over he said that my intestines were inflamed and that I needed to follow a bland diet he gave me: lean meat, eggs, no pork (but ham was ok), white bread, plain pasta, clear fruit juices, no sodas, fruit purees and cooked vegetables, none of it with any salt, pepper or any kind of seasoning at all. Ghack! Then I was to take a poop sample each day to the laboratory for testing, because I might have more than one kind of worm. Double ghack! He told me to come back on Monday at 11:30 am and we would figure out what I needed to do next.

Stargazer Lily carries a heavy perfume but are poisonous

to humans and cats if ingested. Who woulda thunk it?

I drug myself home. When I walked in the door there was a big bouquet of pink roses and Stargazer lilies sitting on the dining table. Those were in my wedding bouquet. The room smelled wonderful from the lilies. But I was so stunned that all I could do was wallowed in self pity. I looked up ascaris on the internet and found out it comes with living in unsanitary conditions and having poor hygiene. That made me feel like I was the scum of the earth.  Then I saw a photo of a young African boy with worms coming out of his nose and mouth. That made me gag. I decided after reading over the symptoms that I had had worms for a really long time, like maybe ever since we moved down here. (Did I mention I have hypocondria in my genes?)

For the next several days I dutifully followed the diet and took my samples to the laboratory. The diet was extremely dull and I didn't even lose any weight, but in the next few days I began to feel better. Then yesterday, Monday, I went to the lab with my last specimen and told them I had a doctor’s appointment at 11:30, since they normally don’t have results until 1 pm. I didn’t know how they would handle that. They said, come back at 11:00 and we will have your results to take to the doctor. Sure enough at appointed hour I showed up and they folded up a little piece of white paper and stuck it in an envelope for me to take to the doctor. Unlike the U.S. I was to carry the report to the doctor, and unlike the U.S. the envelope was not sealed. When I got outside the clinic I opened the envelope. It said:

1– negativo
2– giardia lamblia
3– giardia lamblia

Giardia lamblia-If the organism is split and stained, it
has a very characteristic pattern that resembles a
familiar "smiley face" symbol. Is that a peculiar or what?

Aha! I did have a parasite, but it was not worms! It wasn’t a serious parasite. I’ve had it twice before when I was out of the country. It made me feel sick then too. It comes from bad water. We don’t have bad water in the guesthouse, nor in Casa Abeja as we have filters to treat the water in those places and we drink bottled water. Our ice is also made from bottled water. I must have gotten it sometime somewhere when we went out to eat. Maybe ice cubes—who knows? At 11:30 am I trotted over to the doctor’s office. This time the office was crowded with patients. Bad sign, now I would be waiting forever. The receptionist said, “What are you doing here?” “Well the doctor told me to come on Monday at 11:30.” “I don’t have you down,” she said, “He never told me. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

Today I went back. The waiting room was even more crowded. It appeared all these people had been waiting a long time as one woman got up and left and told the receptionist she would call to make an appointment. The doctor arrived and the whole group raced into his office. The receptionist called out to them, "no wait the Señora here has an appointment." Ah, all these people were waiting without an appointment but me. It didn’t much seem to matter because they went in and I was left out in the cold. After about 20 minutes they all came out (it seems it was one large family) and I finally got to see the doctor. He said you have a protozoa, not worms. He gave me a precription and said I would have to be retested in 15 days. He told me it was a hard parasite to get rid. Great, but I’d still rather have that than worms.

I hestitated to write this blog about such an indelicate subject, but Esperando said I should. He said this is part of life down here and you should tell people. If you don’t live here and just visit as a tourist you are far less likely to contract these weird things. It’s the daily grind that gets you.

Mariano's Ranchito in San Luciano

Esperando told me on Saturday, “Francisco wants to take us to see his father’s ranch tomorrow, to see where the soil for our flower beds came from.” I was right in the middle of something that seemed important on Sunday when Francisco showed up to take us over there. I was annoyed that I had to stop doing whatever it was that seemed so important and go on another jaunt on some cobbly road.

Francisco is one of our employee’s at the guesthouse who is alternately a vigilante and a gardener, and a helper here for us at Casa Abeja. Before that he was Esperando’s main dude in helping him rebuild Casa Abeja. He cares for our garden. He is a kind man.

The road we took was another one of those bumpy tumbled rock affairs that Hurricane Jimena left behind in all the arroyos. She did a number to his ranchito, wiping out a lot of stuff and reorganizing the entrance to his place—there isn’t one now. We reached a high point and Francisco said we would have to walk from there as the road was gone. Not much of a walk though he said. To me it looked miles away and since I didn’t expect to walk, I had on reasonable shoes but not ones that were good for walking, sort of a flat mule-type shoe. By the time we got the ranchito I had stopped to empty the sand out of my shoes several times.

"See, it's not far, just a little walk," said Francisco.

Mariano at his ranchito

Francisco’s father is named Mariano and he is 84 years old. His ranchito is located in San Luciano, just down arroyo under the big bridge south of Santa Rosalia. You can’t really see it from the highway as it is tucked under some high cliffs. He has a big orchard full of fig, mango, and citrus trees. He grows chard, chiles, onions, cilantro and all kinds of plants. He has pots full of different cactuses, and a pen with geese, a duck and four peacocks. His ranchito is watered from 60-foot well that was hand dug and blasted by him, Francisco and another brother. When I asked Francisco how his father knew where to find water, he said he just knows these things and he used a water diviner. He has owned the ranchito for 20 years, before that he was a miner in the old mine in Santa Rosalia. But he came here from Todos Santos near Cabo.

We had a nice tour. It was quite a spread with large lovely trees that kept it cool. We probably spent an hour wandering around looking at stuff. There was a big swimming pool, but I don’t know that it was ever swam in, it was full of leaves and debris. Still it looked refreshing. There were several rusted antique cars, one from 1929 that the two men referred to as ‘the Pancho Villa’s car’ for its age, and a newer 50s truck that had seen better days.

Fig trees bearing fruit

We came home with a handful of green chiles picked by Francisco, which neither of us could identify on the internet. All I found out was that Mexico grows over 100 varieties of chile peppers. Esperando made a killer salsa from them, they had a hot bite to it which diminished rapidly. New Cook called them Bolitos, Francisco said they were kind of a Serrano, but they are a mystery chile to us.

Esperando’s Killer Salsa Recipe

Mystery chile, maybe a Bolito, about the size of a quarter.

4 Bolito chiles (substitute 2 Serranos)

1 medium tomato

½ white onion

4 cloves garlic

1 meaty roasted Anaheim chile roasted, peeled, veins and seeds removed

½ c water

Salt to taste

Boil all together in water until soft. Puree in blender.

Did I learn my lesson about being ready to go on unanticipated drives across the country? I hope so.

With regular watering it grows rusty.

How I spent my Easter Vacation

Esperando and I just got back from a 4-day fling to celebrate Semana Santa. This holiday is to Mexicans here in Baja what the 4th of July is like for USA folk: a holiday with beaches and partying, it's a true spring break. The Mexicans crowd the beaches to camp and just before they arrive all the remaining gringo snowbirds in trailers flee. We crammed in as much as we could in four days. First we drove to Playa Santa Inez to see how our favorite beach fared. It was still mostly empty. Where our truck was parked a lot of big ugly beetles had aggregated to feed and mate. They were scary looking even though they showed no interest in us. I never could find them on the internet.

These ugly beetles were about an inch long with red heads.

We continued on to La Serenidad Hotel in Mulege because we wanted to eat dinner again at Ray’s Place; it is always so welcoming and magical. After another swell dinner we drove back to our hotel. It was vastly under occupied with about five big Mexican families and just us. The children were relatively well behaved and it was very quiet at night. We were pleasantly surprised as we expected loud partying late into the wee hours.

The whole scene changed when we drove into Loreto for a 3-day stay at the Inn at Loreto Bay. Although the hotel wasn’t full, one entire wing of at least 100 rooms was occupied. We were probably one of about two other gringos couples staying there. We went into town that evening to eat at Mediterraneo. The town was alive. All the locals that weren’t tailgating on the main drag were cruising in their vehicles, mostly with beer. Our waiters watched all the action from the second floor balcony.

Back at the hotel we quickly discovered that our room was badly situated. It was under a Jacuzzi and a passel of children who ran it at warp drive and dragged the patio furniture around making loud scraping noises on the ceiling continuously. Outside the teenagers were cruising around in the golf carts and playing bumper cars with them. The grownups were in full party mode by the pool. It was very noisy. When the noise finally died down at 1 pm and peace reigned, I thought they would sleep until noon and we will be able to get some rest.

I don’t know what possessed the restaurant staff to start playing loud rap music the next morning at 6 am; it was totally uncalled for. Of course it got just us gringos out of bed as teenagers, children and party animals can sleep through any kind of noise. Esperando went to the front desk to organize a golf cart to move the scuba gear from the parking lot to the beach for a dive, but was told they were only available for golfers. We commented on the children we had seen driving them the previous day and were told that would not happen again. They would be happy, they said, to drive the scuba equipment to the beach for us. The murky water from the high wind the previous day put Esperando and Flaming Mike off the dive until the next morning. In the meantime a large aggressive looking black dog I will call Devil Dog raced around the beach going from palapa to palapa. When he approached our palapa, Dash acted like he wanted to tear his throat out.

This little boy in oversized shoes wandered into a group of people and took their towels away. No one stopped him.

We were able to change rooms to something more quiet. That night we went out to eat in town at the restaurant 1695 (so named for the arrival of the first missionaries to Loreto). Their food is excellent. We hadn’t intended to spend so long at dinner, but we were having such a good time that we shut the restaurant down. When we entered our new room at Inn at Loreto Bay, we discovered one of the dogs had torn a gaping hole in the sheer drape. Now that we were on the ground floor they could see everything through the sliding glass doors. Our guess was another dog or person got them excited. Surprisingly it was extremely quiet all night, we hadn’t realized that so many of the party goers would be leaving during the day.

Is this the beginning of curtain demolition?

The next morning Esperando took the dogs out and Devil Dog showed up again. It turned out yesterday’s doggie disagreement meant nothing now because all the dogs liked one another. When we took our morning walk Devil Dog reappeared and Dash ran off with him. Another large dog joined them and little Lupita started jumping on my legs to be lifted to get away from them. After that the big dogs began to rough house and she got bowled over a few times, then tried to bite one on the nose repeatedly but with no effect. I finally took pity on her and started to carry her. Devil Dog and Dash were inseparable. But when they started mounting each other trying to establish who was dominant, we decided Devil Dog needed to go elsewhere and Esperando drove him off by throwing rocks. Now Lupita was horrified by even small dogs that approached us on the beach.

Devil Dog - coming and going, just plain trouble

By the time we got back to the palapas it was time for the dive. Esperando and Flaming Mike struggled into their dive suits like a couple of seals trying to put on their skins. Then they waded off into the calm water and disappeared. When they finally surfaced an hour later neither of them thought was the dive too exciting. Because the time had changed to daylight savings that day (we are still on the old U.S. daylight savings time here), it was now time to check out. We went to our room and gathered up all our belongings to hit the highway home. The dogs were completely worn out from their beach frolics and slept all the way home. The torn curtain added another $30 to the bill, but it was worth it.

San Borjita Cave Paintings

Baja is home to more than 300 hundred known sites of ancient cave paintings that are the oldest on the American continent. The paintings at San Borjita have been carbon dated to 7,500 years. This Great Mural Rock Art consists of prehistoric paintings of humans and animals, often larger than life-size, on the walls and ceilings of natural rock shelters in the mountains of northern Baja California Sur and southern Baja California. San Borjita is part of this group included in the UNESCO World Heritage list. We are lucky to be living in this area so close to so many sites, even though they are often remote and difficult to access. Many of them take several days of traveling by mule. An excellent book has been published on the subject by Harry W. Crosby, The Cave Paintings of Baja California.

Yesterday we drove to San Borjita—a nearby site of pinturas rupestres or cave paintings. We have driven past the turnoff sign on the highway countless times, wondering what we would find at San Borjita. The government requires that anyone wishing to see these caves hire a guide. So at 7 am we were waiting by the highway at Palo Verde to meet up with our guide Salvador Castro Drew of Mulege. He had told Esperando that the whole trip and back would take 7 hours. Once he arrived we started on a marathon drive across a bumpy rocky back road—the kind that should take several pounds off but never does. Although the site was only 21 miles from the highway, the road was so horrid that it took 1 ½ hours to get there. In places we drove across wide arroyos of compacted scattered stone that chattered as the truck bounced along. Prior to Hurricane Jimena these arroyos had been studded with forests of Palo Verde and Palo Blanco trees. Now they were scoured rivers of rocks washed devoid of any vegetation. You could see the remains of broken and uprooted trees that had washed down the arroyo to stack up like trash against the canyon walls and the few stronger trees that had remained standing.

We passed several ranchitos of ranchers eking out a living from their cattle and goats. Finally we arrived at the ranchito whose owner had the property on which the cave was situated. After collecting a key from him, our guide told us that this rancher had come there many years ago from Sinaloa. This rancher was a tiny blonde man of some forgotten gringo descent for he was Spanish speaking and not a recent immigrant. He was quite wrinkled and had lost all of his teeth. His grandchildren hung around listening to him discuss the road to the archeological site with our guide. Surprisingly there was a granddaughter, a blond little girl of about 8; and a grandson, a handsome green-eyed young man of 13 years, both with very gringo features and paler skin. It would have been interesting to know their long history. I wished I had thought to bring a bag of candy along for the children, but I didn’t know there would be any children way out here in the middle of nowhere.

Now we had to go to sign the government registry book that was kept at another rancho. So on we bumped on another 15 minutes. We came to a beautiful but empty rancho that the government had constructed, complete with a cute little restaurant and baños (yay!), but the whole place was deserted except for blooming fruit trees and cooing doves. It was so lovely and peaceful we both just wanted to sit and stay forever. Esperando signed our names in the book and we got back in the car and to drive another 15 minutes back to the cave site.

Next we spent about 30 minutes hiking up to the side of a canyon, initially criss-crossing a lovely little stream decorated with tiny little frogs, skimmer spiders and cow pies, then finally climbing over scree and boulders to get up to where the cave was. I was sure I was going to break my ankle, or worse my neck.

Finally around a bend we approached a deep cave. It had a low ceiling but was quite spacious and there was enough daylight to penetrate to the back of it. There on the ceiling of the entire cave were figures of men in red or black or less frequently white, many superimposed on one another, juxtaposed at various angles. Some of the figures were divided lengthwise with one side black and the other side red. There were a few paintings of animals, but mostly they were of men, many of them pierced by arrows. Once sensed the drama of warfare in these paintings. Were the figures of the people they fought against and killed; or were they members of their own group that had been attacked? Who did they fight in this empty land and how did they live?

They would have had to erect scaffolding here to paint on the ceiling, it was too high to be reached by hand from the ground. The camera captures the pictures better than our eyes can because of the glare coming from outside. Even though the images were well protected from the elements in this deep cave, they had eroded substantially. No one seems to know who these ancient people were or what the meaning of the paintings is really about. It is just one of the many hidden and intriguing mysteries of ancient Mexico.

Cave Guide for Mulege area (includes San Borjita and La Trinidad)
Salvador Castro Drew, based in Mulege, speaks English
215 161 4985

San José de Magdalena

What strength possessed the Spanish people to struggle through the steep arroyos and climb the craggy mountains and to find the hidden valleys with water so they could stay to make a life here in Baja centuries ago? Some of their descendents stayed on, even though water was more plentiful in other places, such as California proper. They make a living from their cattle and goats, becoming experts at curing and tooling leather, and making cheese. The live in isolated communities and plant their crops in the arroyos. When the hurricanes come and the arroyos flood, they are wiped out, but still they stay on eking out a living from this harsh and unforgiving land. Initially it was the missionaries that found the places here with water and tried to establish communities with the Cochimi and Guaycura Indians in this part of Baja. None of the indigenous people ultimately survived the arrival of the Spanish, succumbing to disease over time. Later even Anglo settlers came to Baja, settling in this area just after the U.S. Civil War.

According to Wikipedia: "the Visita de San José de Magdalena was founded in 1774 by the Dominican missionary Joaquín Valero to serve Cochimí Indians associated with the Misión Santa Rosalía de Mulegé. Building a visita, or subordinate mission station was initially proposed by the Franciscan missionary Francisco Palóu prior to the Dominicans' assumption of responsibility for the Baja California missions. The visita was terminated when the mission at Mulegé was closed in 1828. Ruined walls of stone and adobe brick survive at the site. (This is excerpted from the book Las Misiones Antiguas: The Spanish Missions of Baja California, 1683–1855 by Edward W. Vernon 2002, Viejo Press, Santa Barbara, California)."

Esperando and I knew nothing of this last weekend when we took the bumpy narrow dirt road 15 kilometers west of Highway 1 to follow the sign pointing to San Jose de Magdelena. We were just curious to see what was there since we drive by the sign on the highway often and now were looking for an afternoon’s diversion. Though a mere 11 miles from the highway, the drive to this little community took about an hour as the road was so rough. After 45 minutes of bumping along the first sight to greet us were little green pockets of water, winding down a deep wide arroyo, and strung together like pearl beads. The water nourished small well tended fields of green surrounded by rugged barren hills of naught but cactus. The first indication of a town is the cemetery, a little village of tombs and mausoleums in various bright colors, some new, some old with the ornamental iron crosses of a century ago. The dead have a sweet little city densely packed up against each another. It has a convivial feel to it, and one senses community and not desolation in the cemetery.

San Jose de Magdelena is known for growing garlic and selling the braided strands locally, so that is supposed to be what you come up here to see and to buy. We found an old almost toothless man (Esperando tells me he has read that these people are addicted to piloncillo-an unrefined brown sugar produced in hard cones of various sizes; they suck on them and over time rot out their teeth)  engaged in the so Mexican past-time of mixing up a batch of concrete. Since we have moved down here, I have come to realize the Mexicans and concrete go together like soap and water. Everywhere they always are building and improving on their structures. He seemed to be the only person in town. Everyone else must have been taking a siesta.

We inquired about the garlic, but it was still too early to buy any. He wasn’t sure when it would be available, but his neighbor across the way sells it when it is. He told us the road to the coast from here was impassable. We didn’t go any further down the road to see the old mission which apparently is quite ruined. On our drive back through town we passed a sweet little shrine to the Virgen de Guadalupe set by a spring. As we got back even with the cemetery, a man was in the field saddling his mule. (Mules are preferred to horses here; they are tougher and more sure-footed). The mule was saddled with a particular kind of saddle that the ranchers make here which has the chaps built into it so that you are not destroyed by riding in the thick cactus. He wanted to know if we wanted a photo, and then put his little dog up on the mule’s back and smiled at us. He, too, had a lot of missing teeth--too much piloncillo!

Dog Friendly Lodging in Southern Baja

It has been quite a challenge taking our dogs with us on vacation in Baja if we want to stay at a nicer hotel. We are pretty knowledgeable about where to stay going north from here, but going south has not been something we have done much with our dogs. Looking up dog friendly lodging can be difficult even in the U.S. if you are staying in a small town; in Baja there is much less choice and not all places seem to get listed.

Here in Santa Rosalia the Hotel Frances and Hotel Las Casitas will let you have your dogs in the room. Hotel Frances is an 1886 2-story wooden building, an elegant historic relic from the days when the French were mining here. The lobby and dining room are filled with antique furniture and they serve a wonderful breakfast, but not any other meals. Las Casitas, perched at the cliff’s edge doesn’t have meals, but they make up for that with an incredible view and nice modern rooms. Advancing south to Mulege we always treasure going to Ray’s Place to dine and spending the night in one of his two rustic but quaint cabaña’s (if they aren’t full already). It is sublimely quiet there at night and all the stars in the heavens are available for viewing. If we only have Lupita the Chihuahua, we are ok to stay at La Serenidad if Ray’s is full. La Serenidad is a popular fly-in spot for pilots (with attached airstrip); and they are notorious for a pig roast on Saturday nights. Some rooms come with a fire place (it can drop down to 45F on winter nights here). On sunny days the swimming pool is a welcome relief.

This weekend we are planning to drive to Loreto for a little R&R. We are going to stay at the Inn at Loreto Bay which is both a lovely place and dog friendly besides. It will be our first stay there since the resort shut down and re-opened last year now under the auspices of the Mexican government’s tourism arm. It seems that their dog friendly policy is still in place. We can sit on the beach under a palapa with an umbrella drink and our dogs in tow, soaking up the rays. Doesn’t get much better than that!

We are also looking at dates in May and June to go to Cabo Pulmo and Todos Santos. We are just taking Little Tickle, it is a long drive for the big dog Sweet Pickle and his hips are becoming an issue getting in and out of the truck as well as his acceptance at most hotels because of his size.

I only found one hotel listed in Todos Santos on an internet dog friendly site that said would take pets; but when I went to the website the hotel said that they did not take pets—go figure! So I started shopping around to various nicer sounding hotels and B&B’s on www.tripadvisor.com, emailing places to see if they would take dogs until I found Casablanca B&B that said they liked dogs and could accommodate the three of us. Club El Moro in La Paz also permits dogs on the premises. They have decent rooms and a beautiful swimming pool with bar nearby. Ah the effort us dog lovers go to bring along our furry friends!

Santa Rosalia









Hotel Frances
Telephone: 011-52-115-2-20-52
website: http://www.baja-web.com/sta-rosalia/frances.htm

Hotel Las Casitas
Telephone: 011 52 615 152-3023
http://santarosaliacasitas.com/

Mulege

Ray’s Place
Telephone: 011-52-615-161-4316

La Serenidad (small dogs only)
Telephone: 011-52-615-153-0530, or 011-52-615-153-0540
website: http://www.hotelserenidad.com/

Loreto

Inn at Loreto Bay

Telephone: 011 (613) 13-30010
website: http://www.exploreloretobay.com/

La Paz

Club El Moro Hotel Suites
Telephone: 1 866 375-2840; in Mexico 011-612-122-4084
website: http://www.clubelmoro.com/

Todos Santos

Casablanca
011-52-612-145-0832
website: http://www.casablancabb.com/

Traveling with your dog in Baja

We have taken our dog Sweet Pickle along in the car from Denver to Santa Rosalia on two trips back and forth in the dead of summer. We have never have had a problem crossing the U.S.-Mexico border in either direction, but we always have his rabies certificate at the ready. Coming through Tijuana this last time we got a green light, but were waved through for inspection anyway, then when they saw the dog we were promptly sent on our way again. We always pack a lunch we can eat along the side of the road, it is too hot at the time of year we have been travelling to leave him behind in the car while we check out some local eatery. He is a good traveler and would rather go on a road trip with us than to stay behind. We find sometimes we get waved through the military checkpoints also when they see we have a dog with us; I guess they don’t want to have to deal with his perceived ferociousness (as in licking you to death). At 60-pounds he is big, so maybe that is what deters everyone.

We always try to get as far as we can in a day. When we leave from San Diego going south into Baja, the Desert Inn at Cataviña is our stop for the night ( then we have 6 more hours to drive the following day to get home to Santa Rosalia). They have a fabulous swimming pool filled with cool spring water set in the middle of a tree-filled courtyard that is surrounded by hotel rooms. It is a real oasis in the midst of an amazing hot desert. At night their generator keeps the air conditioners running. Their restaurant is really good and they don’t stint on the tequila in the Margaritas. If we are driving north, our stop for the evening is the Desert Inn in San Quintin, a modern looking white building with red-tiled roof. It looks right out over the ocean onto a vacant beach, that is great for running a dog. We have talked about staying at the Old Mill there but haven’t yet, the rooms are probably a bit more rustic but the setting is lovely.

It is nice to know there are places you can stay overnight that will take the dog. In a recent discussion in Todos Santos at a cocktail party, we found lots of new places mentioned to stay if you are starting from lower down on the peninsula. In El Rosario Baja Cactus and Mama Espinosas is touted as being a very nice and inexpensive. Guerrero Negro has a go-out-of-your-way-to-eat-there restaurant at the Malarrimo Hotel, but they do not take pets. Again the Desert Inn is recommended by friends. Here in Santa Rosalia the choices are Hotel Francés (historic red lobby is 'papered' in antique bandana cloth print, on the hill serving a great breakfast) Las Casitas (waterfront north of El Morro, no meals available here but great comfortable rooms); and Hotel El Morro (waterfront south edge of town).

BajaInsider.com publishes a list of pet friendly places throughout the Baja peninsula, and based on our familiarity with some of them, their listing seems to be on-target, except for those in Enseñada where every single recommended facility gets really awful reviews on Tripadvisor.com. Here we vote for El Rey Sol, a very nice comfortable hotel that also has a wonderful French restaurant just around the corner.

Vacation ends tomorrow

View of church tower Mision de Loreto taken from La Mision Hotel at Loreto over the palm trees.

The last night of our vacation we spent in Loreto at La Mision, the newly completed luxury hotel right in the middle of town overlooking the malecon. We had an attractive air-conditioned room on the 3rd floor overlooking the pool and the Sea of Cortez. Their beds are super comfortable and the amenities are nice. The hotel was quite full, mostly with Mexican guests, leftover from participating in the Loreto 400 car race. We were told they were completely full the previous night which had marked the end of the car race. The swimming pool was maxed out with guests, fortunately not lots of children as they tend overwhelm things down here. We were lucky to find the last two lounge chairs, but all the pool towels had evaporated. Esperando and I are pretty sure the hotel has not had to handle so many people at once before, the services seemed kind of stretched to their limit. Two little boys about 8-years old dominated the pool. They had a couple of largish hard plastic toy boats they kept throwing across the water and into the hot tub; they were kind of obnoxious but their parents didn’t seem to notice or care. The hotel must pump water into the pool from the ocean as the water is a brackish mixture of fresh and salt water, and was like being in a warm bathtub. It made me yearn for the cool sweet water and peace and quiet of Casa Bentley’s pool that we left behind us in Todos Santos. And even more, how we miss the nice beachy setup of the defunct Inn at Loreto Bay!

Baja is famous for off-road races occurring throughout the year, most notably the Baja 1000 and Baja 500 car races. The Baja 1000 is the big off-road race that takes place on the Baja peninsula in the fall, generally September. The event includes various types of vehicle classes such as small and large bore motorcycles, stock VW’s, production vehicles, buggies, trucks, and custom-fabricated race vehicles. The course is much the same each year with the event annually alternating as a point-to-point race from Enseñada in the north, south to La Paz, or a loop race starting and finishing in Enseñada. As a point-to-point race the course length varies but is often over 1,000 miles; as a loop race the course length averages 830 miles. According to Wikipedia, ‘each year there are reports of spectators sabotaging or booby-trapping the course by digging holes, blocking river flow, or burying and hiding obstacles. Many of the booby traps are not created to intentionally injure the contestants but are created by the local spectators as jumps or obstacles for spectator entertainment. The haphazardly-designed jumps, created by the spectators, are very dangerous as the contestants may inadvertently enter the booby-trap at unsafe speeds, resulting in damage to the vehicles or injuries to competitors or spectators.’ Esperando, in the way of boys, is all hot to go watch the race this year as it passes on down to La Paz. I told him to go find another boy to watch it with, I wasn’t interested.

The Baja 500 is essentially the same race held in the springtime, but the course is shorter and loops back to Enseñada. The Loreto 400 is a stock car race dating back to the early 80’s. It goes from Loreto at the Sea of Cortes across the La Giganta mountain range over to the Pacific Ocean, then back up the coast over the mountain range and returns into Loreto. This route is also called the missions route since it follows the historical trails that connected the missions of the Jesuits, Franciscans and Dominicans. The Loreto 400 is consider to be one of the bigger races in Southern Baja.

Esperando and I spent our last night of vacation poolside with me quaffing margaritas and Esperando cold Tecates. As the evening lengthened the temperature became more pleasant and our intentions to go out to dinner evaporated. We ate a great pizza by the pool instead; the pool bar/kitchen has a brick pizza oven, and they make a mean pizza. By the time we headed up to our room, Esperando and I had outlasted the two 8-year old terrorists and almost everyone else, except for a pair of lovers, he a tall blonde gringo with a pronounced lisp and she a very pregnant Mexico girl, who remained entwined in the pool for really at least 2 hours clasped together, never moving. I wondered how you can remain that long in the pool without turning into a prune or needing to go to the bathroom. How romantic am I?

Todos Santos and La Paz

After 3 hot days in Cabo Pulmo we were ready to move on to Todos Santos where we had booked a room at Casa Bentley, a meandering stout-walled stone building set in a ‘tropical jungle’ that the owner, Bob Bentley, has carved out of old mango and avocado orchard. Bob has lived in Todos Santos since 1984, is a geologist by trade and became our instant friend and guide. He sent us to all the great restaurants in town and had lots of entertaining tales to tell. We had a delightful large cool room with private terrace, but we spent most of the hot afternoons lounging around his beautiful shaded gem of a swimming pool with his five dogs, all answering to the name of Heidi. His charming hotel manager, Beatrice, keeps everything humming along.

Todos Santos is all about the people, art galleries, places to eat and shops. We met a lot of really nice people; we were even invited to a cocktail party at a private home which was fantastic because we got to see the hostess’ lovely home and meet even more really cool Todos Santos residents. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a friendlier place, or had a more convivial time in just 3 short days.

Our first day, of course, had to check out the notorious Hotel California of Eagles fame, even though the Eagles never were really in Todos Santos. We had great margaritas there in the bar that evening, then wandered into the hotel lobby which looked like a gallery, and started talking to hotel manager Debbie Stewart whose husband (now deceased) was instrumental in putting Hotel California on the map—he created a really great hotel. According to Bob Bentley, local legend has it that on the night he died a major hurricane was about to make landfall there, and his spirit went out to sea and turned the hurricane away from Todos Santos.

Todos Santos has an old historic center but homes are scattered and sprawled up and down over hills, some homes have views of the ocean, some have none, most have really great gardens. Lots of funky, artistic and unique houses represent the efforts of the expatriate community. It kind of reminded us of a smaller Taos, New Mexico, on the Pacific Ocean, except it was hot and humid in a way Taos would never be. While we were there we encountered lots of Italian tourists, as well as several wonderful Italian restaurants: Tre Galline, a more upscale trendy and delicious place; and il Giardino Pizzeria Trattoria, an alfresco wood-fired pizza parlor also serving up pasta dishes. We had lunch at D’Alicias, a self-described Baja New Mexico restaurant featuring familiar-to-us New Mexico style enchiladas, something you will probably not encounter anywhere else in Baja California. This year many of the art galleries and restaurants have already shut down for the season due to the slow rate of tourism, so even in 3 days we still didn’t get to see it all. Before we got there several people told us that 4 hours of Todos Santos was sufficient to see and know the whole thing—obviously they REALLY missed the whole thing.

We bid a sad farewell to all our new found friends and drove to La Paz to see if our red enamel and stainless steel GE stove had been repaired and could come along with us to Santa Rosalia. Alas, it was still being worked on and they will call us when it is ready. I will not hold my breath.

Loreto to Cabo Pulmo

Our vacation is not proceeding smoothly, but rather in fits and starts. When we left Loreto 3 days ago I got the grunge from something I ate at lunch, I thought. In retrospect I believe that one of our houseguests who thought she had bad food had a 24-hour stomach bug and passed it on to me. In any event we stopped in Loreto for lunch at La Mision, a new luxury hotel there and were offered a terrific lunch buffet. I ate far more than I had intended to including lasagna; enchilada suiza; little strips of fajita meat; these delicious ground meat gorditas in a deep fried pastry which you topped with salsa, fresh chopped onions and cilantro; ceviche; and a wide selection of desserts including fruit, flan, buñuelos, various pastries and cakes. After stuffing ourselves we continued our journey, 4 hours south to La Paz.

I was so full from lunch, I began to think I was going to throw up before we would ever get to our destination. I just chalked it up to something bad in the lunch and way too many solid days of driving. By the time we got to our accommodation for the evening, Casa Tuscany, all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and go to sleep. Our hosts, a delightful couple, Patricia and Ken Bonner (respectively from Australia and New Zealand) were quite chatty and I hoped I wouldn’t pitch it all in front of them before they showed us to our room 30 minutes later. I had no desire to go to our favorite restaurant, Las Virgenes. Fortunately our hosts had provided a very decent bottle of wine with the room and Esperando wasn’t hungry either. He sipped some wine and read while I cratered. In the morning I still hadn’t recovered, I felt better but now had diarrhea. Fortunately I recovered after a dose of Lomotil.

We ran a bunch of errands in La Paz, including retrieving a dresser drawer that had been repaired from shipping damage; trying to get a scuba tank filled (but without enough time); buying a few groceries at Walmart; and checking to see if a red enamel/stainless steel GE stove was still available at El Ferry (an appliance store) for Casa Abeja. I had seen the stove 5 months previously. At the time it was drastically marked down, I assumed because of its color. Esperando was sure it would be there, I was sure it wouldn’t and my jaw dropped to the floor to still find it, although without any price on it. Turns out someone had bought it, but returned it since one of the burners didn’t work. We told them we would be returning in a week and would buy it if they could get it fixed by then. This is Mexico, we’ll see if anything happens.

After that, we got back on the highway for Cabo Pulmo, which turned out to be 2 ½ hours distant. I had set up a 3-day stay for us at the delightful El Encanto de Cabo Pulmo, a private home comprised of a small main house, separate loft with balcony (where we stayed), and small casita. The house was designed by artist Diane Varney and every detail is beautifully finished and furnished Mexican style. She has planted an interesting garden of desert plants and many native trees which support the abundant bird life of several species of doves, cardinals, orioles, some small olive colored flittery birds and a desert lark. Cabo Pulmo itself is a national marine park, Parque Marino Nacional Cabo Pulmo, noted for great diving. It has the only coral reef system in the Sea of Cortez. Interestingly most of the tourists we’ve encountered here are Italians.

After lunch yesterday, Esperando caught ‘the grunge’ and fell ill. This morning he was feeling not 100%, but in the way of men went off on his dive anyway. Turns out the first two dives were good, but Esperando was too ill to make the last one.

Cabo Pulmo is an unusual place. We think the population must be about 200 with quite a few Mexican families. It has very little in the way of a grocery store, 4 restaurants, 5 dive shops, a host of beautiful gringo homes running on solar cells and well water. Although quite isolated it still manages to generate a cacophony of noise Mexican-style—generators humming, roosters crowing, peacocks mewing, birds chirping, children screaming, metal pans clanging, trucks rattling by, car alarms screeching, cars honking, cars revving by some with radios blaring, dogs barking, horses neighing, hammers tapping, electric saws roaring, and workmen constructing new homes hollering at one another—because of its small size every noise takes on a life of its own and rivets attention during its broadcast.

We have been eating at El Caballero. The meals are simple but tasty and the young waiter makes a truly great Margarita. Tonite we took the steak we had planned to bbq, but lacking the means for doing so they prepared it for us. Medium rare turned out to be pretty much well done, but still it was tasty.

The daytime temperature has been about 95F (although we think it topped 100F today) and since the generator is down we have no air conditioning. Other than living in the warm waters of the Sea of Cortez, taking a shower every couple of hours is the only way to cool down for a few minutes. Fortunately there is a fairly steady breeze after about 10 am (I say that as I sit here dripping prespiration in the shade). Our bedroom has a ceiling fan directly over the bed—and mosquito netting. I have already sacrificed a good portion of my ankles and legs for mosquito nourishment—they must be Aztec mosquitoes as they are quite a bloodthirsty lot. At night all the stars in the heavens and the Milky Way light up the night sky and are visible from our fine balcony location. We started out saying this place is way too remote, we could visit here, but we could never live here, but now we have added Diane Varney’s lovely home to the list of places we would buy to retire to—but just for 4 months every year—and not in hot August.