After packing up camp and getting on the road again, I have to retrace the 40 miles from BOLA (Bahia of Los Angeles) to Mex 1, the main north-south road on the peninsula. At the corner of Mex 1 we stop for a bite at the Loncheria since Guillermo’s was closed this morning. Travel companion Lee is wanting some caffeine, and I’m up for some breakfast before the day ahead. I had Juevos con jamon with beans and tortillas the other day which was pretty good. But I hadn’t noticed all the weirdness of this place that day…must have been really tired.
First, there is a mattress in the corner of the restaurant’s L-shaped dining room which I hadn’t even noticed. It looks like the cook and her babies sleep there on the stained bedding and then wake each day to fire up the stove and greet customers. Then there are the flies…and the fly shit. The windows are so filthy that when I try to look out and keep an eye on my bike I realize I can’t see much of it through these windows. Yuck. So yeah breakfast….hmmm…just please hold the amoeba and bacteria, in fact hold the huevos too. Just tea for me.
The highway has no shoulder for most of the road, and no guardrails, the lanes are narrow. There are big trucks, lots of cars, everyone drives too fast, there are cattle and horses and goats that wander onto the road, and then those topes that are like speedbumps trying to trip you up. Mexico is not for the faint of heart. Best get that caffeine on board if you need it.
We ride south as far as Guerrero Negro. Just before hitting town we cross from Baja California to Baja California Sur or B.C.S. which is the lower half of the peninsula and a different state I am told. There is a military checkpoint, and you also have to cross an agriculture checkpoint. Cars and vehicles are sprayed and pay for the privilege that getting sprayed must be, but bikes are waived on through now. G.N. is a “company town” in that there is a big salt mine here that harvests the salt from the salt flat and the workers and their families make up most of the towns population. It’s definitely more of a functional that fashionable place from my first view. I have to get some cash at the bank, and test out my debit card for the first time since getting here…better not wait too much longer. And then we stop at a fish taco truck on the side of the road. Lee ate at this guys truck two years ago and says they are the best he knows of…and I have to say they are really good.
We considered camping near G.N. at a whale sanctuary near the Bahia de San Ignacio but its a little too early for the whales to be here and it’s a really windy and gray, chilly day. So we decide to head further east to San Ignacio and then on to Santa Rosalia, our final stop for the night. On the way we ride past the Volcano of the Three Virgins.
Santa Rosalia is a pretty village on the east coast and has a lovely little galvanized iron church in the center of town that was designed by Gustave Eiffel. That Gustave Eiffel, of THE Eiffel Tower fame, and the Statue of Liberty, etc.
Around the corner from the church is a “world famous” panaderia (bakery), the El Boleo, which has been open for more than 100 years. I stop in for a baguette, which is completely different than French style baguettes, and a couple of sweet rolls.
As I ride around town I see a couple of South Dakota license plates and cannot believe my eyes. People from home?! It turns out that South Dakota lets non-residents register their vehicles there via a PO Box arrangement and from the sounds of it, no other states allow that. So a lot of ex-pats choose to register their vehicles in South Dakota. It’s a fun and friendly reminder of home, even if the people aren’t from there. South Dakota, I love you.