At the moment I am waiting in line at the immigration office in La Paz, 800 miles from the US border. I had not got a permit/visa to cross into the main land from Baja, which is not a problem in Northern Baja California, but apparently I have been an illegal alien for the last few days. The perfectly polite official started saying I would have to return to the nearest visa place, which would have been a bit of a 2 day bore, but then said he could give me a 30 day visa here and that would be enough for my plans, so fingers crossed.
Such has been my state of mind since entering Mexico, that the potential slog back up the peninsular to get the visa, presented no great anxiety.
I left you last in San Filipe in 100+ degrees. From there the road south along the coast was very good for the first 70 miles, then it turned to gravel and sand for the last 50. It was also heavily corrugated in places, a very uncomfortable surface. It is tough on the bike and tiring to ride over. I got about half way when I stopped for a break only to notice that there was a crack on the frame that cradled the engine. It was in the same place that it had bust before in India nearly a year ago. It had not completely gone, so I roped it all together and rode at a slower pace, praying it would hold till I hit the tarmac.
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| This was a brave hitchhiker...he needed a 10 mile lift that took us 30 mins... |
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| The road..a better stretch |
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| Beautiful hot desert all around |
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| The break |
It was about 5 pm at that stage and I happened across Coco's Corner. Coco is a great character who came to this remote and pretty hostile patch of land 20 years ago and just stayed. He had just had one leg amputated at the knee as a result of poor circulation. He built a shelter and made a living selling drinks to occasional passers by. 10 years ago the other leg had to go, which held him back not a moment, carrying on evolving this patch of land into a harbour of eccentricity. Defunct TVs painted yellow and put up on poles, loo seats on pans arranged a round a meeting table, tin cans arranged along strings for 100s of yards to name just a few 'sculptures'. It was topped by a staggeringly large collection of ladies' knickers and bras that he had pinned up all over the ceiling. Apparently it has become a custom that these were volunteered and thought an honour to be asked to contribute to the collection. He had his charm for sure.
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| The bra and knicker trophy ceiling |
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| Coco |
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| The night's shelter |
He insisted that I should not risk driving the next 2 hours as the road got rougher before the tarmac, and it was pretty late. He pointed at a bed frame that was under the original shelter. He threw some blankets over the springs, showed me the old caravan that is now the bucket and scoop wash room, and then bid me good night, saying he goes to sleep at night fall and wakes at dawn. I cooked a quick supper and retired. There was a big wind, thunder and lightening all night which had me awake half of it, but the biggest fright was when one of his blooming cats jumped on me just when sleep had finally come. Poor thing probably had just as much a fright as I lashed out in wild and blind defense.
An early start had me at some welders a couple hours later and they saw the frame right and strengthened in an hour or so.
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| Back to full strength, with an extra plate to strengthen that seemingly vulnerable part |
I pottered about the pacific coast for a couple of days, but it had become overcast, with torrential falls of rain much to my surprise. One of my planned stops had been at San Ignacio, a central peninsular town in a valley of palm trees. There had been a flash flood, and the road was blocked into the centre of town along with the one south that I planned to take the next day. Along with other stranded travellers a local motel enjoyed a bonza evenings trade.
It did not seem to have rained over night so I went down to the river and saw a few 4x4s crossing ok. So I though I could. A minute later Batty and I were stalled in the middle of the river with water nearly up to the tops of the wheels. It was a silly idea and I should have paid more attention to the route to take, but more importantly I had not anticipated the water been thrown up in such amounts that it filled the too low engine air intake. Luckily there were a couple of chaps wading across and they helped me push her back to the dry. It was good to have entertained the long queues of impatient drivers for a moment. The road to the centre of the town was passable luckily and I spent the day drying out and adjusting the air filter cover so that I could go through 2 feet of water with ease.
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| Shot by a wet footed photographer |
Loreto has turned out to be a bit of a star town for me. Mainly because I had 2 amazing days diving there. It started well as I bumped into the 5 Italian girls that I had met at the flood motel, they are all a bit younger than me and on a 2 week driving holiday in Baja. We had a quick catch up, but they left the next day with promises to meet up further south.
Dolphin Diving was a little down the road from my guesthouse and by chance I went down there at 8am the next day to see if there were any chance of a dive. Luckily for me Raphael was just loading the boat to take John out, and they hung on 10 minutes so I could join them.
John has many years diving experience and having retired after a career in environmental journalist, both in Thailand and his native Oregon, now spends a month in Baja each summer, fishing and diving, often with Raphael. His particular quest nowadays is to find different Nudibaranchs, colour full marine snail that are a fascination to him. The good thing about these sorts of missions are what else you see along the way, sea lions, turtles, whales, monster lobster and every fish in the aquarium, just magic.
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| Pelicans everywhere |
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| Our lunch spot, Daniel (driver), Raphael, and John |
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| These chaps came along for the dive...and showing us what they could do underwater that we could not...I wish I had had a underwater camera to capture their grace and agility. |
The next day the plan was to go to an island, Santa Cantalena, that neither Raphael or John had been to. The reason no one had been there was that it was 4 hours away in the middle of the Sea of Cortez, so we had to leave at 5.30 in the morning. John had a hunch about it for Nudibaranchs. I was just delighted to have been around for the trip. It turned into a fabulous day and a standout on the whole journey. Alas only 1 Nudibaranch was found, but we all had such an exciting time in a beautiful deserted place, that few had been to. For me it was like diving for the first time out of the class room, and when we went into a submerged cave and the wave action suddenly changed picking John up and whisking him out of sight, it certainly had the pulse racing. Then he floated back down to us, upside down, motionless and no bubbles I was fearing the worst. Then he winked and smiled....the brute.
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| John discussing Nudibaranchs with Rafael at 6am |
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| Sun rising as we set out for Santa Cantalena |
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| This is a huge whale spotting area, but mainly in the winter months...we were lucky and had this companion for a while...my camera was never on when she/he showed...so this the best I got |
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| The Island coast line |
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| Hardly anyone ever comes here, and this was thought to be a very fine example of this type of Cactus. |
John and I had had supper together the night before and I enjoyed his company a great deal. Because it is very topical, I asked him what his thoughts were on the US presidential elections. I was not expecting it but fascinated to hear him talk about the impossibility of voting for Obama again with Guantánamo Bay still open, the 'execution' of Bin Laden without trial, and the drones controlled by pilots in the US vaporising people in Pakistan and Afghanistan.
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| Loreto mission at sunset. |
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| Loreto Centre |
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| On the road to Santa Juarez. I should have seen many more of the abundant cave paintings on Baja, and these are probably the poorest examples. |
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| The mission at Santa Juarez, the first mission in Baja, and a pilgrimage is made every year here from all over Mexico. |
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| It doesn't look it, but behind Batty is a very steep hill, which I had
to run along beside her whilst slipping the clutch to get up...first
time since the Himalayas |
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| Ended up staying about 4 happy nights at the Hotel Yeneka, La Paz. The owner, Manuel, is a great artist and the hotel is one huge artwork |
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| Dinner at last with my Italian girl friends in La Paz |
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| This is a handshake with Yuri, who helped me a great deal with my visa issues...a fellow biker, who had just come back from a 16000 mile run to Alaska and back. He owns a travel agency called Viaje Perla in La Paz...although he did everything he could to not sell me a plane ticket. A very fine man |
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| Each room in Yeneka...was themed. This one was fun. |
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| Damien, from Brussels, was staying at the hotel and we had a great couple of nights out...very good company |
In the end I had to go back to Tijuana on the US border to get the permit...it took 5 minutes at the airport....
It seemed like a good idea to get Batty serviced a bit whilst there, and Yuri gave me the name of Gabriell, a Hungarian bike mechanic. Gabriell is a very generous man and went to great lengths to see me right...along with his sister Maria who lives in Miami....we had an open Skype line to improve communications. Also the with Scuzme ('Excuse me' his chat up line that became his nickname) his pal who ran us around the town getting parts and stopping at off licenses to get more beer to keep the heat of the day at bay. I lost count but I think it was about 12 pints in about 4 hours.
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| Gabriell just before setting off for the ferry to the mainland port of Mazatlan. After oil changes, new fork seals, breakpads, wheel bearings etc. |
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| I met Rob on the ferry. He had ridden across to Japan from York and then to Alaska and now on his way south like me. He left a bit after me last year. His blog is http://aroundtheworldforwater.co.uk/ . He wild camps every night and is on a budget of less than £10 a day.....makes me feel very soft core. Good and interesting company. Funnily enough he had been told to look out for me by diver John, who he had bumped into at Loreto. |
