Post 12- Moving to Mexico Baja California

Efrat abramson
5 days ago
11 min read

A farewell from the United States

San Diego was wonderful, spacious, open, full of delicious drinks, bars, restaurants, excellent pizzerias, delicious beers, beautiful parks, museums, and more and more... We say goodbye to it with gratitude, tidy up and clean the apartment, say goodbye to the black dog, the white apartment, and hit the road again.

Sunday market in the neighborhood

The building we lived in. Granola in a jar, waiting for Pepper's owners

The distance between San Diego and the border is very short, less than an hour's drive, and we choose to sleep another night near the border to cross the border the next morning. We do some last-minute shopping before crossing, and spend our last night in the United States in a beloved parking lot near the border, in nature, without many people, with a wind that forgot to go to sleep and shook our trailer all night.

We say goodbye to the American routine that has become familiar and comfortable over the past three months, so easy to adapt to. We realize that something completely different awaits us over the horizon.

Crossing the border

It turns out that it's not enough to prepare a binder with all the documents to make it go smoothly. You also need a little resourcefulness, street smarts, and, if possible, understanding a little more Spanish, which we didn't have.

It was a hard day.

We passed the first stage easily. The policewoman checked our documents and sent us with the car to the right side of the border. We were supposed to park the car and go in to do the bureaucratic process. The officer explained where to park the car in clear, fast Spanish, and I went into shock. I didn't understand a word he said except "left".

Apparently, we didn't understand him, or he didn't explain it clearly enough. In any case, instead of parking right there next to the building, we went into town and got into trouble there with parking that we later realized was illegal. When we got back to the car, a huge policeman with a big motorcycle and scary black boots was waiting for us. In even faster, clearer Spanish, he explained that we had parked in an illegal spot and that the tow truck was already on its way to take us to the police, where we would have to pay a fine of several hundred dollars.

We were in shock. We were in shock in general from the transition.

We waited about 20 minutes, and the tow truck arrived, but it towed the vehicle that was behind us.

The policeman, who was furious with me for filming the entire event, ordered me to delete all the photos, made me sit in the car, and agreed with Guy that we would pay him $200 and he would let us go. At that point, we were so devastated that we just wanted to end this drama, so we decided to pay (which everyone on Facebook warned us not to do!!!). That was exactly the amount we had in our wallet. How did he know? We said goodbye to him after he happily gave us tips on where to go and what to see in Baja, and we went our separate ways.

We were so disappointed, frustrated, and confused that we forgot to get a cell phone plan for Mexico at the border, while we were still connected to the American network.

After a few minutes, we realized it: the navigation had stopped working, and we were lost in the streets of the infamous Tijuana. We accidentally entered a lane reserved exclusively for medical teams. The police stopped us again. This time, they talked about a $400 fine, which is when I started taking deep breaths. Guy actually came to his senses and told them it was okay; we would go to the police with them and pay whatever was necessary. After a few minutes, during which they told us they would come tow us right away (between us, no one could tow us at all, because our white bear is so fat and heavy), they released us with sour faces and full of pity.

That's it, we were in Mexico, after a corrupt cop made a deal on us, other cops did us a favor, lost and confused in Tijuana, with American license plates and considered gringos (meaning it's written on our fair, freckled foreheads that we can be fooled with perfect pleasure).

This was the first time since we left Israel that I had a moment of breaking down, that's it, I didn't want this story anymore. We decided to get away from Tijuana, find a place for the night, and restart our system. I opened the maps app and navigated with it as if it were a real printed map to a Walmart branch (an American supermarket) where we knew there would be wifi. We went in there and made a short cellular plan so we would have something to work with. We downloaded a map and drove south to Ensenada, a city on the coast of Baja California.

We found a reasonable parking lot in the middle of the city, decided to simply end the day, and start over the next day. Once again, the Bear proves itself to be a refuge, a warm and cozy home, allowing us to rest and relax.

Baja California

Baja California, or Lower California (which in no way resembles California), is a long, narrow, and rugged peninsula. A desert that kisses the sea, with mountains in the center, and a constant feeling of the edge of something unknown. The island is crossed by Highway 1 - the main road, stretching from Tijuana to the southern tip of Baja. It is very narrow, with no shoulders at all. In addition, it is decorated with potholes, and with every pothole we pass, we thank our amazing Sylvie the bear with her huge wheels, strong springs, and formidable engine. We get involved in driving, learning to drive alongside cars, trailers, and huge trucks, all together on the narrow, winding road.

Our plan: to go south all the way down to a city called La Paz, from where we would take a ferry to Mexico itself.

There are campgrounds here, but the procedure here is totally different. You arrive and check for a space. It's not at all like in the United States, where everything is online; you make a reservation, choose the parking spot from an organized map, and everything is clear, known, and familiar.

We started using the iOverlander app, created to make it easier and support travelers on the Pan American Highway. Once I got used to it, it was great, it has all the information we need: where to fill up on gas (diesel), where to fill up on water in both the trailer tank and the water bottles (we don't drink tap water here), where there are all kinds of overnight campsites, where to do laundry, shopping, repairs, literally everything is listed there and people are constantly updating it, especially if there are changes. I even found a place to buy fresh, handmade tortillas there.

Ensenda

Feliz Año nuevo - Happy New Year

Ensenada is a lively, relatively orderly port city, the gateway to Baja. It has a combination of Mexico and the United States – street food stands alongside large stores, a promenade in front of the sea, and a comfortable atmosphere that allows you to land a moment after crossing the border. We stayed for two days, including New Year's Eve, which was marked by endless fireworks, crackers, music, and the joy of celebrating the New Year. It was raining heavily, making it impossible to truly enjoy the city, so we decided to continue south to escape the rain. We make it a habit, before leaving any place, to stand for a moment and thank it for what it was for us. Ensenada let us rest for a moment, relax, and begin to accept that we are no longer in the United States.

We are riding in the rain, and in the background, you can see the quality of the roads, which is really excellent compared to what we will encounter later.

We met Tali, an Israeli living in Ensenada, and had excellent falafel, hummus, and shakshuka for lunch.

San Quintin

A town that already feels like the real Baja: open spaces, agriculture, wild sea, and volcanic landscape. It's a rough and simple area, almost without tourism; here, the road begins to be the story itself.

In Baja, every city, town, and tiny village proudly displays a colorful sign

Don Eddie's campground

A 67-year-old American retiree purchased the land 4 years ago and turned it into a roadside hotel, with guest rooms and an RV campground. A restaurant named Lulu after his granddaughter. Chickens in the yard, a huge pig, and 2 white dogs that are his beloved.

The pig is called Dinner No. 2 because the first one was eaten for Dinner No. 1 a long time ago. Eddie is a veteran and experienced biker who has ridden the length and breadth of the entire United States, loves off-road riding, and is injured all over his body because of it. We met two weeks after a serious fall with probably a broken shoulder, ribs, bruises all over his back and pelvis, and severe pain. Eddie doesn't believe in medication, but he does believe in traditional treatments, so in addition to the tequilas he drinks all day to soothe the pain, he received acupuncture treatment from me, which is taking him forward towards recovery. Which means that he will get back on a motorcycle to continue his wonderful and adventurous off-road rides.

Hw hosts us with such open heart and generosity, gives us traveling tips, and takes us and two other Americans, Tom and Oscar, who also came on vacation from the US, for a trip in his UTV, which is one of those operational all-terrain vehicles, also called a side-by-side. The five of us get into the tiny vehicle with the two white dogs, just like in the riddle about the elephants and the Volkswagen. Anyway, once a week, he goes to the coastal area to feed two abandoned dogs there. On the way, we pass strawberry greenhouses, agricultural fields, and half-finished houses, and Eddie tells us about everything that happens here. We go down to the beautiful beach, take a walk, and stop at a restaurant for lunch. Everything reminds me of Sinai. Half-finished buildings, restaurants are basically a cabin with a shed, a few tables and chairs outside, facing the sea.

And the language, slowly, I wait patiently, and also try to speak, gradually remembering word after word. It's been something like 50 years since I lived it for two years.

We meet for dinner at Eddie's restaurant, with Tom and Oscar. They are both teachers; Tom is retired, and Oscar is a counselor at a school for at-risk boys. They like to travel together and occasionally take a few days off from life, and here they are in Baja, from Los Angeles. We spend a happy evening together; the empty beer glasses are constantly refilled, and we sing along to karaoke. It turns out to be the weekly karaoke night, and young people from the nearby town come to eat, drink, and sing great Mexican songs together.

Oscar also receives treatment from me for his painful elbow, and together we decipher the cause of the story, so that he can prevent its recurrence in his daily life.

Lunch by the sea, wonderful tacos, and dinner at Eddie's restaurant - Tom and Oscar generously invited us.

Eddie's Pig and White Dogs, a San Quentin laundromat that looks nothing like a California laundromat. The brown swamp you see in front of the bear is the street where the laundromat is located. The streets are unpaved, full of potholes, and huge puddles after it rains. All the amazing cleaning the bear went through in California went down the drain in the swirls of potholes and mud puddles. Eddie's forehead is visible through the selfie I asked him to send me

After three nights, we continue south, fill the gas tank to the brim, and load two more tanks of water. I downloaded Google Maps from scratch so it is offline, and connected to Highway 1, which runs the length of the peninsula. Today, it is a long road, with no gas stations along the way. Pretty soon, there is no sign of cell phone reception. The road winds into the mountains, the vegetation changes, and cacti of various types appear around us. A green desert. It must have rained here.

In the afternoon, we arrive at Bahía de Gonzaga. We found it through our app. We are greeted by a Mexican man with fairly good English, who tells us that the owner has gone to San Diego for medical issues, and that it’s no problem for us to stay here. On the first night, we are completely alone; the next day, two more families arrive with RVs. Once again, very much like Sinai. White beaches, red mountains, breathtaking sunrises and sunsets, and only the sound of the waves accompanies us throughout the entire day and night. A time of quiet.”

The place is completely cut off; there has been no cell reception for hours. We operate the Starlink, and can work and communicate with the world. Very convenient.

My clinic

For more than six months, even before we left Israel, I started working remotely. I provide online health consultations that include a joint observation of life, what nourishes it, and what can be refined and improved. This includes nutritional advice, medicinal herbs, and support conversations. As well as remote energy treatments, an ability that I discovered with the shamanism studies that have accompanied me in recent years.

Bahia De Los Angeles

We continue south, and, as usual, we fill up with water at a water store, fuel at any station with diesel, and set off. After a few minutes of driving, we stop at a roadwork zone. The minutes pass, turning into half an hour, then forty minutes. A long, winding path of cars behind us, and everyone waits patiently; no one honks. I get out of the car to take pictures and meet a Dutch-Canadian who has also come out to freshen up from her long session. Eventually, we are released, and we are free to continue cruising along the volatile Highway 1.

A store that sells water, the pipe on the left side fills our trailer's water tank, and inside, they fill it with drinking water.

Cacti of various species, and roadworks for which we waited patiently for forty minutes.

We arrive at Bahia de Los Angeles, at a place called Campo Archelon, owned by an American couple and run by English-speaking Mexicans. It is neat and clean, with a beautiful restaurant and shade shelters called palapas. Next to one of them, we can park for the next two days. We meet Noa here, a young Israeli girl who came especially from Israel to travel in Baja, rented a van to travel in, swims with dolphins, seals, and whales, and takes a break from life in Israel. We eat dinner together and enjoy talking in Hebrew, telling and hearing stories, and, of course, discovering all the people we know in common (so Israeli). The next day, we wake up to rain, winter is on our tail again, as the poet says. It allows us a calm day of work, alongside the sound of the waves, the sky, and the clouds as a perfect backdrop.

We've been in Baja for a week. I feel like I'm still adjusting. I don't feel completely comfortable here yet, and I'm waiting for the feeling to arrive. Tomorrow we'll continue south and actually reach the line that divides Baja into two: the northern and the southern. These are two different federal states. The landscapes are supposed to change, and we're waiting to see and experience them.