Hello, Mulege!

(Written Tuesday, January 13)

We woke early this morning to try and see the sea lions, but the wind was so strong that the fisherman wouldn’t have been able to get us around the island. We were sad more at not being able to support the guys at Eco-Union Tours than missing out at the sea lions, but we hope that we can catch something similar in Mulege.

We got our bags from the tiny hotel room and started walking out past the city limits, thumbs out and hopes high. Well, Rob had high hopes. I was pessimistic and growing more so with each step. Most of the cars gave us the “I’m just going a short ways” motion, which we soon began to laughingly interpret as meaning: “Sorry, man, but I’m just going to Mulege.”

Car after car shot past us with an apologetic wave, but right as I asked Rob if he thought it would work a maroon Ford pickup pulled up. We never got his name, but he was a guy about 55 or 60, from Mulege. He took us the whole way, and after about a half-hour of halted conversation we lapsed into a contented silence.

The scenery is gorgeous, going from a vibrant, spiny desert to turquoise seas with white sand beaches in a matter of yards. We drove along the Bahia Concepcion, which looks amazing if crowded with RV’s. There were still a few beaches that weren’t overrun with snowbirds. Next time we come down here it will be with a car and a tent, for sure.

Mulege is strange place—sleepy and on the surface not as touristy as Loreto, but with a pretty entrenched expat community. There seemed to be a lot of businesses with English signs, an expat-oriented bar, notices for AA meetings in English, and even an English radio station.

We spent the day exploring the town, and quickly found a great joint for steak tacos, Asaderos Dany, which will certainly become our new hangout. Tomorrow we’re going to scout out the beach and start working the ex-pat community for a ride to Tijuana. Our new motto: “Anything but the bus.” Tonight we’re watching soap operas with the volume down on the only channel that we get in our hotel room and trying to figure out who’s sleeping with whom. Right now an old woman with too much makeup is holding a gun to—wow, she just shot him! Oh man. Enough of this writing. Now the woman with the aggressively curly hair is holding her newborn and arguing with the man in with the slicked-back hair. I can’t wait to see what happens next.

Besos,
Jessie