Bug bites and hot nights

As Brian guides Claudette southbound on Mex 15, I sit cross-legged as the copilota counting the bug bites on my ankles, trying with all of my might not to scratch. It is all too often I give in to the urge, only to have the little bumps turn into larger, itchier, welts. The short lived satisfaction is mostly worth it. It is interesting to me how the time flows for Brian and myself these days. I don't know whether it is the country that we are driving through, or the fact that we wake up every or sometimes every other morning in a completely new place, but it feels like it couldn't possibly be only a week that has passed. So much has happened! 

I don't think I would ever tire of the Baja. The barren desert that appears so desolate, blooms into life when you move in for a closer look. We camped for free right on the sandy beaches of Bahia de Conception for a few days, never even changing out of our swim suits (don't worry, laundry was done just this morning!) While snorkeling along the sandy bottomed beach out to rocky cliffs we trespassed into another world, making the huge schools of palm-sized yellow and black striped fish hungry with curiosity, angering the funny territorial fish species, and scaring the shy sting rays almost hidden right below our bodies. 

The ferry from La Paz in the Baja Sur to mainland Mexico was an interesting twelve hours and 2,510 pesos. Our fellow ferriers were a group of high school kids, which introduced our ears to popular Spanish rap (Seems that Eminem is definitely global) and semi-truck drivers, whose rigs towered over our seemingly little van. We left at nine o'clock in the evening. The thrum of the enormous engines blowing greasy hot air into our van made for a very sweaty restless night. In the lounge the second-hand airline seats were broken and sticky, the Spanish movie skipped every 2-3 seconds, and one of the employees scolded us for eating crackers because it makes the rat problem worse. Some of the "extra" passengers were quite enjoying themselves on the trip over the Sea of Cortez. About four pelicans were taking advantage of the lights spilling off the deck in order to pick off unlucky fish near the surface of the water. Just before the sun was up, the shudder of the boat coming to a stop in Topolobampo woke us and we waited our turn to drive off the deck and back onto solid land. The next time we will ride a boat will be from Panama to Columbia. Im already getting excited about it. 

We were regaled with tales the very next night from surfer/part-time ex-pat/writer Richard. He told us about the (illegally) cartel-owned surf breaks close to our campsites in Celeste Gasca, and the near tragic fates of those who tried to surf them without paying. And I thought the tire-slashing stories of outsiders cutting into the the line-up of locals from surf breaks in Oregon were bad. Mexico is going to be great. 

San Ignacio Mission, built in 1728 

Full deployment. 

5 dust devils! 

Those are some good lookin' feet!

Our mighty barco (boat!)

Packing up for the night

Sweaty kids in love

Sinaloa sunrise. Brian said that its "artsy"!

The bugs are getting bigger!