LA VIDA DE BAJA

We drove south through a narrow cactus-lined two lane road with no shoulders. Not just very little shoulders, there were literally no shoulders at all. The lane just ended. It was pavement, then a drop of 6-12 inches, then desert. We had no room to mess up. We had no choice. We had to stay alert. 

Semi-trucks passed us on the opposite side with what seemed like inches between us. Their shear size would leave turbulent air in their wake and made our rig a bit wobbly between each encounter. 

A harrowing few hours passed. The road eventually straightened out. The cactus forest faded away. The landscape flattened. The road reluctantly widened. And far off into the distance, a faint shimmering blue drew into focus.

Most visitors of Baja California never make it further south of San Felipe. We were one of those. We visited Baja a few years ago and camped for a few nights on a beach just south of the town. It was everything we expected Baja to be: endless beaches and camping with our rigs. But we were so wrong. The Mexican peninsula offered so much more. It gives travelers the opportunity to catch a glimpse of what it’s like to live in Baja California –to be a part of the community, and to experience the people, the food, the culture, and its natural beauty. 

The second we passed the “Bienvenidos A Baja California” sign, everything felt different. It’s almost as though we crossed an imaginary wormhole and into another country. The much chiller temperatures of Baja norte (northern Baja California) was replaced with the much warmer, much more humid air coming from the Pacific. The landscape was greener. There were sea birds everywhere. The sky seemed much bluer. But that could also be an after effect from our hours-long white-knuckle driving.

A big town came into view just after the sign: Guerrero Negro.

Karissa and I heard faint whispers of a mythical food truck that serves even more mythical fish tacos. It was a must stop.

This truck was parked off the main strip of the town. Deeper in the neighborhoods where the locals lived. It was parked on a dry and dusty lot which also sat a building that wasn’t quite finished. We don’t know if it will eventually be finished, or if it will forever be in the state of construction purgatory. It added to the allure of this famed truck. We parked, and were immediately greeted by the owner.

We greeted him with a simple “Hola!” 

“How’re you doing?? We have fish and shrimp tacos!” He said right back to us in fluent english. 

We ordered two of each. He wouldn’t batter or fry until an order is placed. The tacos came fresh out the fryer hot and undressed. There was a salsa bar where you finished each taco however you see fit. I went ahead and just went down the line and topped it with every single item in each bin: shredded cabbage, pico de gallo, red salsa, pickled red onions, crema (sour cream), and a few drops of their signature spicy salsa.

We bit into our first actual Baja fish taco. Many tacos preceded it, but never one in Baja California proper. It was heaven. It was everything we expected an incredible fish taco to be. The fish tasted fresh and clean. The batter was perfectly crunchy with just enough chew. The cabbage and pico de gallo gave the taco much needed freshness, the pickled onions just the right amount of acidic zing, and the two salsas unified everything with just the right amount of spice. This taco was one of those outer-body transcendent experiences and has easily become one of those meals Karissa and I refer back to on a regular basis.

Camp that night was just outside of town. Our dogs Kyia and Stella bursted around like newly freed convicts, and we gave ourselves the time to walk around and stretch our legs. We were nestled between some dunes that were just tall enough to block the wind coming from the coast. We fell asleep that night with happy bellies and to the gentle sound of water lapping.

We packed far too much non-perishable food before we left. We thought our Baja experience would be like the one years prior: remote beaches for days and cooking for ourselves. Little did we know how often we would be eating out and how often we’d be in town to soak up the local vibe. Each new taco stand never satiated the burning desire to try the next one. Street food vendors can be found in every single small town you pass on your drive south. Even at the most beautiful beaches, with the most turquoise water, you can expect some kind of local vendor to drive up and offer their wares. We’ve enjoyed fresh ceviche, snacked on fruit salads made right in front of you, bought that-morning-caught seafood to cook up for dinner, and browsed all the hand-knit blankets and rugs out of the back of the friendliest locals’ trunk.

Google Maps was our friend when we were out exploring towns. Karissa and I have a third cell phone which has a plan that includes unlimited data internationally. We used that phone to quickly research the best places to get coffee, the best places to eat, and shop. We found that Yelp and Tripadvisor are mostly useless in other countries that aren’t the United States and Canada. Android phones make up for 70% of all smartphone users and all these Android phones come with Google Maps pre-installed. So it’s a no brainer. It’s where you’ll find the most reviews for even the smallest of shops. You’ll even find pages for street carts!

We fell in love with the contemporary desert boho vibes of Totos Santos. There, we had some incredible coffee, cinnamon rolls that melted our faces, incredible street cart fish tacos, unrivaled al pastor (grilled marinated pork), and dined at an upscale beach-front Mexican restaurant just outside of town that served up some of the best mixed drinks we had all trip. The best part of that restaurant? It was just a mere walk to our camp just up the beach. Walking back to camp on the beach under starry skies while happily and ever-so-slightly intoxicated is one of those days we’ll forever look back at fondly.

The further south we drove down, the warmer it became. We transitioned from puffy jackets, pants and shoes in Baja Norte, to t-shirts, shorts, and sandals in Baja California Sur.

We dug into our Troopy’s pantry reserves whenever we could. This lightened our truck and made room for more local fresh fruits and vegetables. We would stock up at local grocery stores every few days. We picked up the best Mexico had to offer, and also junk food that we wouldn’t be able to find north of the border. There’s never any harm in trying, right? If the outside packaging of a junk food item has the health warning labels of “excesso sodio (excessive salt)”, or “ excesso sucre (excessive sugar)” you know you’re in for a good time! And if there was a tortilleria in town, we would, without question, pick up some fresh tortillas. We would enjoy these tortillas three meals a day until we’re out since they’re so good, and since they have a very short shelf life for being freshly made without any preservatives.

There’s always that saying that Baja midnight is at 8pm since the sun goes down so much earlier during the winter season. But the reality is that 8pm feels so late since you live each day so full and so incredibly present. Each day could be filled with exploring a new town, whale watching, snorkeling a reef off the coast of Cabo, going to different surf spots, walking down endless beaches to find shells or dead things that look interesting to you, or going spear fishing to then immediately cooking your catch out the back of your rig into fish and chips minutes out of the water.

Travel will always round you out to be more understanding to people different from yourself. But, that’s only true if you allow yourself to be open to it. We crossed into Baja with preconceived notions of how we’d like to experience it. We had no idea we would barely touch most of our non-perishable food. But, we made ourselves open to new ways of life. And in the month that we spent down there, we lived not like how we would like to, but instead much more in line with the locals’ pace of life.

“When in Rome, do as the Romans do.”

And in Baja California, we did just that.