We woke up to a grey sky and scattered raindrops; I am convinced that blue skies are just up the coast, Gail is certain it is another cold and gloomy day. I win out, and after breakfast we walk into La Paz, where it is warm and sunny along the Malecon. After splitting a tuna burger (thick tuna steak on bun with all the trimmings) and two Sol beers, we catch the bus north to Playa el Tecolote. Once on the beach we order margaritas and guac and chips, and with our books we are set for the day.
It is a great beach day.
After an hour, maybe two, I am set to try the stuffed clams (a "must try" from one website I read) and Gail wants a Piñas Colada, which I just now learned to spell courtesy of the menu board.
Meanwhile, the ships cruise in and out, the waves crash and the pelicans soar and dive. We move inside, out of the wind.
Funny thing: today I see my first gaggle of Mexico Geese.
Really.
You know Canada Geese, and how they fly in a V shape?
Today, high up, I saw a gaggle of Pelicans, flying in a perfect V formation.
Mexico Geese.
It is quiet here. I will miss this in three days when I am back at work; too much to do in too little time. I am halfway through my second book (and three magazines) of the trip... I love this uninterrupted time to read.
The clams arrive, and they are damn amazing! Clams, four as big as my fist, stuffed with something like pico de gallo, cheese, and the clam itself it diced; hot off the grill. Couple shakes of red "salsa de chili habanero" squeeze of half a lime and good god, I take back every snide remark I have ever made about Mexican cuisine. I am just gonna sit and bask in the moment...
After everyone else left, the owner of the cafe joined us at the table with his lunch. We talked, twenty-two years here on the beach, crowds, family, food...
"The raw clams are better, you know. With beer."
OK.
So I am going to have just one "chocolate" clam.
He grabs the one other employee, tells her to get the clam, and soon I have this beautiful, curly-cut clam in front of me. I do it up just as they say, half a lime, salsa, salt, pepper, maybe a touch of soy sauce (Jugo) and some picante....
Wow.
I think the difference is that it tastes "fresher" so to speak, since it is not cooked. I eat it slow, savor each bite; after all, I may never be here again. The cerveza Pacifico is so cold it has ice on the outside of the bottle; I have loved oysters and beer, and this is something new all together.
I throw down $500P expecting a larger bill, but the total is $300P. How can that be?
All too soon the 5:45 (about) bus arrives at 6:00 and it is time to leave.
Another beautiful sunset, and our last night in La Paz ends.
So this morning at breakfast we were talking with the new arrivals at the B&B, turns out they are from San Jose, their flight out tomorrow is the same as ours, and the next thing you know we are set up to head to Cabo and the airport with them tomorrow.
Need I point out that they did NOT rent from Hertz, thus they actually had a car?
So, tomorrow morning, Richard, B, Gail and I will head out. God bless them for their generosity; we were going to take the bus as usual.
I shouldn't be by now, but I am: I am surprised once again by peoples' kindness.
Richard and I are trading books; I just finished the new one by Grisham, and he is reading the first one of the Jack Reacher series. This is some of the cool stuff about travel: trading books, meeting new people, hanging out and making connections.
This was a nice last day in Mexico. I would say "last day in Paradise" but it isn't. La Paz and Baja have been great, and a nice break from winter in Redding. But honestly, in spite of the unspoiled beaches, the friendly people, and the interesting places, it has just been too damn cold for us, especially Gail, who likens it to spending vacation in "a tub of ice cubes."
Well, it has mostly been in the 70s, windy; for me, wearing shorts and a fleece has been nice, even if colder than expected. Hardly a "beach" va-cay.
Live and learn, eh?
A couple notes:
On the way into La Paz, we pass this cell phone tower "disguised" to look like a palm tree. Only problem... the real palms are about 20 feet high, this tower is a hundred feet high. Reminds me of the stupid "pine tree" cell tower back home, on the way to Palo Cedro... a hundred foot pine tree in a thirty foot oak forest. Corporate stupidity knows no borders.
Funny thing I noticed on this trip: a lot of the ex-pats who live here seem to be financial guys; financial in the sense that they made their money off you and me (investing, insurance, advice). So next time you want to know where the hell your 401K money went... Mexico!
Cool thing about walking everywhere, and staying in one small town for so many days; people get to know you. It is funny how many people now talk to us, smile or greet us, and how we are tuned in to little changes in our neighborhood. Like, "hey, nice door" and "who the hell dumped that here?"
I realized tonight I have not heard Beep Beep Oooonnn man lately. Hope he didn't get hit by a car.
Exactly how OK is La Paz? Well, I suppose IF I were broke, owned a ratty trailer, Gail was dead and I had no job nor living relatives, then perhaps I could see joining the snowbird crowd living on the beaches of Baja, drinking cheap beer and eating fish tacos.
Call me a cold hearted bastard, if this doesn't elicit at least one comment, then I have to conclude you are with me on this.
Next year? Costa Rica or Belize.
And so, another day in Almost Paradise passes.