Did you ever dream of visiting a faraway place and then when you finally get there you realize your fantasy does not match the local reality? Like the dirty swimming pool in the Florida resort, the stinky hotel in the Hamptons or the ugly side of beautiful San Diego. Well, I have been fantasizing about La Paz for years. An oasis of peace and harmony in a country where drug cartel violence is in the news every month. Could it really be true? Could it be as nice as it sounded.
Yes.
Sunday, January 25th:
Flying out of Chicago, they had to de-ice the wings of the plane. A few hours later those same wings were basking in the late afternoon sun at the San José Del Cabo airport. Outside the terminal, the friendly people at Eco Baja Tours made the bus to La Paz turn around and come back to get me. How cool is that? I was liking the vibe already.
The bus (really a cozy 8 passenger shuttle van) takes about 3-1/2 hours to get from Los Cabos to La Paz. They stop in the charming town of Todos Santos where you can stretch your legs and grab a snack (sólo cinco minutos). $500 pesos and a big tip for the U-turn.
I got to La Paz and stepped out of the bus terminal onto Paseo Alvaro Obregon. There it was, the famous Malecon—like a photograph that had suddenly come alive. I had been exploring all the streets using Google Earth "street view" for years. I imagined myself walking along the ocean, going up one street and down another, finding the mercados and the marinas. And now, all of a sudden it was real. The faint sounds of music and people talking and laughing together. A hint of Carne Asada wafting out of the Rancho Viejo fonda, mixed with the sweet and salty ocean air.
So there it was; "The Peace", the inspiration of Steinbeck's "The Pearl", the ocean, the people—the beautiful people. Puerto de Ilusión.
It had started to drizzle that first evening, while a peace-parade made its way down the street. The banners read "North, South, East, West: One Peace." The crowd is old and young, singles, couples and families with children of all ages. The mood is one of community unity. A sense of determination that nothing is going to spoil "The Peace". A belief that standing together as a solid community, aware of each other, they will not suffer the violence that has rocked some northern border cities. "La Paz is your house" reminds a nearby billboard.My hotel, Perla, is only 2 blocks from the bus terminal. It is the latest incarnation of a hotel that was there from the beginning. When there was only a small El Centro and a few buildings near the water. To me it is beautiful. Not too fancy, not too shabby, and not too touristy (sin demasiado turístico).
The hotel room makes me smile—the stone in the bathroom is the same travertine I have been working with at home all year. I wonder if they got it at Home Depot like I did? Just like the cantina attached to the hotel, there is no door from the street. Just an elegant staircase to the second floor reception area. Everywhere you look there are people cleaning, sweeping, polishing and wiping. They seem to have a great sense of pride in their work. Later, I would realize that the whole city is constantly cleaning and sweeping and painting.
 |
| The hotel room is simple and clean. The bed is awesome, and the bathroom feels like home with travertine 6 x 6 and 1 x 1 tiles. |
As part of his "Beautiful Baja" series from the "Mexico, One Plate At A Time" television program, chef Rick Bayless stopped in La Paz for dinner at Las Tres Vírgenes restaurant. Ever since then, I have been itching to see it in real life. It is about six blocks from the Malecon on Calle Madero. I go for the wood-grilled baby octopus. $10 US. Then a Caesar salad with gigantic local (as in super-fresh) shrimp.
I believe that the Tres Vírgenes building was an old Colonial-era home with the typical interior courtyard. What a perfect building to be reborn as the most beautiful restaurant I have ever seen. I decide I need to come back again, but it is Sunday and they are closed on Mondays. I will have to wait two whole days. Luckily for me, there are MANY wonderful places to grab a bite.
On the way back to the hotel I take the quaint street called Constitucion. You can see from this photograph how the first few blocks of El Centro are at sea level, while the rest of the city is up on the hill. Late at night, alone on a dark alley-of-a -street in Mexico. I am not afraid. All around me are families with children of all ages, out for dinner or doing some late night shopping.
While locals are wearing sweaters and light jackets, I sleep with the patio doors wide open. At 70°, the local temperature qualifies as summer for someone from Wisconsin.
I drift off, trying to decide whether I want to watch English television with Spanish subtitles or Spanish television with English subtitles.
Even though the air is cool (by local standards it is the coldest day of the year) I cannot resist the beautiful Perla pool any longer. It is a surprise to learn that it is not heated at all. I try to play it cool (¡tómatelo con calma! ) and pretend that I knew that all along, but it is FREEZING. Although, I would remind myself, it's still warm by Lake Michigan standards. Floating silently, staring up at the starry Baja sky, it is a magical moment. Could anything be more perfect? Well maybe a little less chlorine, guys. Wow.
Monday, January 26th
Monday I am up early and on the road to hook up with an expedition company that Heather recommended. They are West of the hotel, attached to one of the marinas. This trip is my first glimpse into the zoning differences here compared to back in the States. Any typical street in El Centro could have a high-end shoe store next to a rundown yard full of chickens, next to am expensive condo, next to a tiny fonda selling home-made breakfast treats.
It had drizzled the night before and the Malecon was still wet when I started out. The "guys" from the hotel cantina invite me in for breakfast, but I am focused on exploring. El Cayuco is not open but it reminds you that the city is a wonderful place to get fresh gigantic seafood at hundreds of venues. Shrimp that taste better than any shrimp you have ever had before. The fact that so much stuff is "open air" still seems unusual. What do they do when it snows? Oh wait...it doesn't, ever.
The marinas are beautiful, and full of expats who sailed down the California coast years ago and then never left.
Both of the people who rode with me in the airport shuttle were sailors. One, the long time ex-pat and the other came down on a random vacation, rented a sailboat for a week and fell in love with the city AND the boat. So they bought it.The marinas are a mixture of boats from small to unbelievably large. Some with Spanish names and some in English. There is also a row of Pangas. Panga is the utility boat of choice in the local bay and even going out to the islands. They are an open boat about 20 feet long with a large deadrise to handle the waves. Many that you see driving around have a colorful sunshade on top. People use them for fishing, taking tourists out to see the whale sharks, para-sailing and just general getting around.
It's still pretty early in the morning when I get back to the hotel, but I can't help it—I need to stop at La Fuente's for a paleta. The fruit-filled popsicles are a staple throughout Mexico with each region having its own favorites. For this early in the day, I go for a light and refreshing Sandia (watermelon) paleta. So refreshing. After I got back home, paletas became one of the things I missed about La Paz. The list of flavors is endless. The classics are fresh fruit, the deluxe versions are cremas (cream) like coconut cream and Key Lime pie. The newer hybrid variations match the explosion of contemporary Mexican cuisine—flavors like cactus and jalapeño, avocado and mint, and many more.
Along the Malecon are a series of beautiful sculptures, reflecting the city's connection to the sea: There is the mermaid, the humpback whale, the fisherman, the dolphin, the manta ray and others. La Paz also has a starring role in John Steinbeck's novel The pearl. Off shore, on Isla Espiritu Santos, there are still remnants of the old large-scale oyster bed operations.
I wandered for lunch and finally came across this charming fonda called Mariscos El Tio,
which translates as Uncle Seafood. Uncle Seafood has a nice selection of homemade tortas and tacos and I decide on their trio of Al Pastor tacos with a bottle of tamarindos pop.
One of the landmarks in El Centro is the cathedral. The official name is Misión Nuestra Señora del Pilar. It's classic colonial architecture and in fantastic condition. The grounds are immaculate as well. A hangout for senior men, meeting old friends, getting in a game of chess or checkers, catching up on the latest gossip, or just watching the world go by.
I am tempted by a beautiful guitar...it's only about $70 US...but I manage to walk away.
Back at the hotel, I think I have quite an appetite so I order Queso Fundito AND a pizza, AND a beer. It was very good but I couldn't finish it. The staff at La
Terraza are wonderful. Their menu is "Mexican Specialties and Gringo
Favorites". Looking around, I see they do cater to an .....older crowd.
Dean Martin on the PA and lots of grey hair. But the gentlemen who work
there are super polite.
Good night La Paz. I am falling in love with you already and it's only been 2 days.
Tuesday 1/27/15
The "bus" to Balandra is another little airport sort of van. We stop at several spots along the way, picking up a few people at the resorts and a few at the ferry docks. The coolest thing about the beach is that, even though it is very popular with tourists and locals, there is NO development there. Just a guy with a truck selling snacks and drinks. I love it.
I snorkled around for hours, following small fish... and shuffling through the sand to avoid stepping on stingrays.
There are places in the middle where you can sunbath in 6 inches of warm salty water.
Later I got the scoop—the stingrays are only there in the spring and summer. In January I had nothing to worry about.
There are only a half dozen times to catch the return bus back to La Paz, so I kept checking my watch.
I met a family from Victoria B.C. of all places. They were there every winter, on their sailboat. Then, when it started getting too hot for them in the summer, they hopped in the motorcoach and drove north. They had visitors with them from B.C. and they were showing off the beach. How weird to meet folks from back home in Canada.
I also met a woman from Israel who was traveling alone, just like me. La Paz was just a short stop for her on her worldwide journey.
Playa Balandra is indeed a magical place. Simple and beautiful. Calming and exciting all at the same time.
Then back "home" to Perla in time to watch the sunset on La Paz bay. Did I make room for another paletta? Of course. Los Tamarindos. Yumm.
Tomorrow would be my time to swim with the giant whale sharks. The wind had started to blow and it was scheduled to be stronger tomorrow.
I washed my shell collection and set it out on the balcony to dry. The beautiful brown and white striped pattern seems to be the trademark shell of the area.
They tell me that people come from far away to see the famous La Paz sunsets. I must say, they were pretty reliable. A beautiful one almost every night.
Don't worry, I didn't forget. I was Tuesday night, time for my second visit to Las Tres Virgenes.The most beautiful restaurant I have ever seen. When I was there on Sunday it was raining so the main courtyard was closed. This time it was a beautiful evening. I had 3 different apps and finished with their signature flan. I mean, you can't go to Mexico without having flan.
Served with a black pepper sauce made with crema.
Manchego cheese, cilantro pesto, almonds and a strawberry sauce.
Especial de la casa: Flan. Delicate and delicious...and I don't even like flan.
Good night lovely La Paz.
The wind is getting stronger, just like the weather man predicted.
Wednesday morning January 28.
Today I am going out on a panga to swim with the whale
sharks, and then later on to Los Islotes to snorkel with the sea lions.
In the Club Cantamar office I pick out a wet suit and fins
(I have my own snorkel with me). The
other passengers are a man from Chicago and his petite Filipino wife. Along
with them they have a newborn. A little girl probably no more than 3 months old
and probably no more than 8 pounds. I am surprised to learn that not only is
the wife coming along with us for the ride, but she is also going to bring the
baby and hold it in her arms the entire time.
We hop in the panga and pull away from the beach. It is
getting choppier and windier, as the TV weatherman predicted, but our guide is
optimistic that it will calm down as the day goes on. Our young captain,
Cookie, heads to the area of the bay of
LaPaz where the whale sharks hang out. Mr Chicago and I get ready to jump in.
The plan is for the captain and our guide, Alex to spot a whale shark and
calculate its course. Then they will drive the panga ahead of the whale shark,
order us to jump, and we will be in the water as the whale shark catches up
with us. The captain orders us to jump
and I am in the water, camera at the ready. The water is so murky that I cannot
see the whale shark. I cannot even see Mr Chicago in the water near me. We do
this three separate times, and each time I see nothing.
On the third jump I come back to the boat, frustrated.
Cookie has the cowl off the outboard and he is pouring seawater on top of the
motor. There is a plume of white smoke coming from somewhere inside. Now, normally
I am comfortable on a boat, but bobbing around in a chop is a deal breaker for
me. I get seasick and lose my Perla Taverna breakfast. And then again. And then
again. And again. Mrs Chicago is also sick and as she blows chunks over the
side of the boat she is dangling her newborn over the water.
Meanwhile, Mr Chicago has surfaced far from our boat, and he
gestures with what we later learn are hello waves. Mrs Chicago panics. She
tells us that he is not a good swimmer and that he is in distress. Will someone
save her husband—he is drowning?
We are dead in the water. Mrs Chicago is freaking out. I am
still woozie.
As it turns out, we are not the only panga to seek out this
spot in the bay. Mr Chicago is actually closer to a different boat and he pulls
himself onboard. Cookie and Alex wave to get the other boat’s attention. I am
not really sure if they ever did understand our distress from a distance or if
Mr Chicago had asked them to taxi him back to our boat (he would have had no
compunction doing that). Nonetheless they did come over and agreed to take us
all back to shore. So keep in mind that we now have about a good 2 ft chop. At
regular intervals one boat is 4 feet above the other. This is the moment when
we are transferring passengers from one boat to another. Because of the chop,
we cannot let the boats touch, so Mrs Chicago is passing her baby across 2 feet
of water into Mr Chicago’s wet arms. She is up and he is down. He is up and she
is down. They pass in the middle but they are not fast enough to make the
exchange. “I will do it for you” Alex announces. He holds out his hands to take
the baby. I am now wondering if I will read about this tragedy when I get home.
Or maybe it will be a Keith Morrison report about the Mexican honeymoon that
went bad under suspicious circumstances. But Alex is a boater and he hops
across into the other boat without a problem.
Mrs Chicago and I follow.
We leave poor Cookie with the disabled boat. He will wait
for one of the other Cantamar pangas to come and get him. But first we will
have to get back to the office and tell them to do that. There are no radios
aboard.
When one goes out in a panga (or almost any chartered boat)
it is commonplace to tip the captain and your guide. In this case we had two
captains to tip, which I did. Mr Chicago just walked away.
Back at the office I am wondering what we are going to do
about the 2nd part of the “combo”. Are we still going to Los Islotes?
The manager in the office tells me there
now isn’t enough time. He has pulled my cash from his drawer and is ready to
give it all back to me. They are surprised to learn I am not pissed off and
that I understand stuff goes wrong on boats all the time. I still want to go to
Los Islotes.
“OK, Brianna From Milwaukee. Come back tomorrow morning at 8:30.” he says with a smile. “We
will go to the islands on the big boat.”
It is another beautiful evening in La Paz. I wander the Malecón and stop at Rancho Viejas for their famous carne asada tacos. The aroma had been driving me crazy ever since I got to LaPaz.
While you are waiting for your entré they bring out a large tray of fixxins. A beautiful Talavera platter from the city of Puebla.
You have the ubiquitous Mexican pickled onions, shredded cabbage, pickled Jalapeños, lime slices, a large bowl of fresh pico and a delightful salsa verde that must have had crema added to it.
I would have taken a picture of the tacos but I ate them all before I could think of it.
What a wonderful, exciting Wednesday it had been. I watched a few back-to-back episodes of Deadbeat with English subtitles and drifted off to sleep. Tomorrow was going to be even better. Snorkeling with the sea lions.
Thursday, January 29th
I am waiting on the beach in the early morning light, expecting a big panga to show up. Maybe it will one of those with the colorful bimini top. "No," explains the mager. "We will take the van out to get the big boat." Although this seems a little sketchy, I agree (because there are other passengers in the van). We drive out past Balandra, stopping at the resorts and the ferry terminal along the way to pick up more people. By the time we get out to Club Cantamar we have collected 8 people.
We leave the harbor on a NNW heading. Our captain El Morsa
(The old walrus) gets the big
boat up on plane and we skim across the water at
about 20 knots. Looking out at the rough water, I am SO glad we are not
attempting this in a small panga. It looks like they typically have this boat
set up as a dive boat. There are several storage racks for tanks and gear.
There are only 8 of us but the boat could easily handle 20 people.
We are only a few minutes out when we are flanked by a pod
of a dozen playful dolphins. They jump through our wake in unison, speed off in
different directions, then reunite for their next jump. It is totally
choreographed and totally surreal. It’s like a fake Disney moment, except it’s
really happening.
We hug the coastline and pass several other bays and
lagoons. The occasional cruising sailboat sits peacefully at anchor.
Past Espiritu Santos and past Isla Partida we arrive at the sea
lion colony on Los Islotes. That is the small white dot above Partida on the
map. We inch into the cove and I see there are at least 3 other boats here
already. Cantamar has placed a permanent buoy in the cove so it only takes a
few minutes to tie off while we all put on our flippers and masks. “How long
can we stay?” Someone asks.
“You can stay as long as you like.” says our guide. “When
all of you are ready to go home, we will go home.” That is the laid-back
attitude I quickly came to love in La Paz. We had the whole day and there was
no rush.
One by one we slip of the end of the boat into the water.
It’s probably about 20 feet deep. Because of the ongoing weather it’s not
totally clear, but it’s much better than the day before. The sea lions are
really fast. They swim behind me, in front of me, disappearing and reappearing
like ninjas. I scramble to take pictures but they are too fast. This would be
the perfect time for a Go Pro. Up close they really have big teeth. It’s a good
thing they don’t consider us food.
The water is cool but not cold. If you asked a local, they would say it’s very cold this time of year. I see a cool shell below, resting on one of the big rocks on the bottom, but when I try to dive down and get it my wetsuit keeps me on the surface. Yikes, I am too buoyant. That was unexpected.
I am in and out several times. Taking short breaks on the
boat’s swim platform. The waterproof case I got for my smartphone is working
well. It is keeping the phone dry. In the cool water the touchscreen function
is spotty at best. I missed several great sea lion shots because the phone
couldn’t feel my finger touching the shutter.
The situation was laughable, because I had planned out every
detail of the day. But then when I am hanging in the water next to the sea lion
colony in the sea of Cortez with my snorkel on, looking at a sea lion swimming
right towards me, I cannot press the shutter.
This time we make a bee-line back to the mainland at full
speed. Playa Balandra comes into view on our port side. I can see the little
mushroom rock and the beautiful blue water. We slow down and the boat pulls
into the bay. Surprise. We have time to stop at Balandra and do some kayaking.
Yayyy!!
Because the bay is so shallow we have to drop anchor quite far out. The captain drops the 4 kayaks we have been carrying into the water. We take turns shuttling each other to the beach. A couple of people dive from the boat and swim to the shore.
This was a special treat for me. To get another chance to
swim around Balandra with my snorkel and see the little fish darting about. I
still had my water shoes on so I decided to go ashore and hike up one of the
trails on the headland, just for a different point of view. No sooner did I get
up to the top and the captain starting blowing the boat’s horn. We were all to
come back to the boat right away someone shouted. When I ran down the hill and
got closer to our guide he elaborated. “Come on, hurry, the captain has seen a
whale.”
That night, I walked East along the Malecon and had dinner
at Calypso. They are famous for their shrimp and they did not disappoint. The
restaurant is like two spaces with an open-air hallway in between them. Just
like Tres Virgenes, they have interesting sauces. One is simple but delicious.
It’s simply crema with hot sauce.
Back at the hotel it is my last night in La Paz. I look at
my pictures over and over again. I can’t believe I am really here.
Friday January 30, 2015
Although the plane doesn’t leave until about 4 in the
afternoon on Friday, the afternoon bus to Los Cabos is full so I have to take
the 9 am bus.
I am up early. I pack up and leave all my remaining Mexican
money in the room for the maid. It isn’t much, but it is all I have left in my
account. I wander the Malecon one last
time and sit on a bench, looking out at the sea. I check in with the bus
station every now and then to make sure things are still on schedule. It is
that weird part of a vacation where you realize that you are sitting on a
street in one place, feeling the sand between your toes and the sun on your
face, but you know that later in the same day you will be back home in
Wisconsin. Later that same day you will be snuggled in your bed at home. In some
ways, like it never happened. You know that the following day you will go for
groceries and maybe put some gas in the car. You will want to shout out to the
strangers around you that you were swimming with seas lions.
It’s a 3 hour drive back to San Juan Del Cabo. My head is
still swimming with my adventures. When we stop at Todos Santos for a break I
search out el Banco and consider using their ATM. “Sólo diez minutos.” The driver reminds
us. I run up the sandy street to the bank, but unlike the modern
bank in La Paz it is the older “Grab-your-card” kind so I don’t risk it. The
departure terminal at the airport is pretty straight forward. Gate 1, 2, 3, 4,
5, 6 all in a row. The crowd is a real mix. All the eco tourists looking like
hippies, the wealthy folk who came down to Cabo to go sportfishing and perhaps
spend time on their yacht, and the last of the hold-out students who came down
to Cabo to party over winter break.
After a short flight I am in Texas. US Customs doesn’t even
ask me what’s in my backpack. There is a line but someone tells me I don’t need
to wait in the line and I am ushered through. Back in the USA.
The Dallas airport is huge. It has the longest escalator I
have ever seen. Like Philadelphia, there are dozens of cool restaurants and
shops. I settle for Papasito’s Mexican Cantina. It just seemed like the right
thing to do. Considering it was in an airport in Dallas, it really was quite
good.
The airport is divided into sections that are connected by very fast “trains” which work on some elaborate system that manages to get everyone where they need to go. It’s quite amazing.
The flight into Milwaukee glides in over the southern tip of
lake Michigan in the darkness. There are the lights of Gary, the huge sprawl of
Chicago, Kenosha, Racine and finally Milwaukee. Kim is at the airport to pick
me up and take us back to our snuggly home. It’s about 10:30 or 11:30. The dogs
are excited to see me. Kim is excited to see me. I am home. I am safe. I am
loved. And I will never forget my days in La Paz.
