Before I go on to part three of South America, I would like to share bits of my two amazing trips to the Peninsula of Baja California. Last February was my second time there and I loved it once again! This time, I did it on two wheels. The previous visit was right when COVID hit. Flights had begun to be cancelled. The “whole world” was put on hold; people were scared, doubtful, confused, and incredulous. Some were terrified, locked in their houses, cuddled up with dozens of toilet paper rolls, water jugs and tuna cans. Others were avid to spread their conspiracy theories, refusing to accept what was happening, arguing the virus was either a mockery to cover up some tremendous political secret, or a lethal weapon to destroy humanity, part of World War III between East and West.

 

My friends advised me not to travel. My family, on the other side, encouraged me to follow my dreams, as they always have, whether they have agreed with my choices or not. “Do go”, my sister said, “you don’t know what is going to happen with this COVID 19 situation. There is not much for you to do here right now anyway, so enjoy life.” And I did! In a fun kind of retreat, isolated from the “rest of the world”.

 

 

I had a flight booked to Cabo, where Miguel would pick me up in his truck. A group of enthusiastic bikers had ridden Baja down south; as a consequence of COVID they did not want to finish the ride back up north, resulting in them returning home and us driving the truck and trailer back, loaded with the lonely motorcycles these travelers had left behind. Everybody canceled the second part of this planned ride, except for one other guy, who remained positive and cheerful throughout this time. I like how similar personalities connect, regardless of the circumstance, they end up meeting each other, together to have fun, to benefit from life. What would I do without them? It is nice to share. So the three of us went on adventure during an uncertain, comfortable silent time.

 

 

Miguel and I had not seen each other since Antigua the previous November. Some encounters in my life had shaken my heart in different directions in the meantime. I had gone through various emotions, meeting weird people, as usual. It had seemed like an endless confusing time apart; I could not wait to see him. I had no clue how much I had actually missed this man until we saw one another again and hugged.

 

Love people, love yourself! I assure you it is one of the most fulfilling experiences in this life. Humans rock and to love them even more!

 

The scenery in this part of Mexico is incredible. We drove straight from the airport to Los Cerritos, since nobody would welcome us in the fancy Los Cabos area. The southern tip of the peninsula seemed “abandoned”, no hotels were open as we drove through the small towns. I was excited to be there though. One of my best friends is from Cabo and he adores talking about his hometown, practically both states of the peninsula: Baja California and Baja California Sur. He calls it “mi casa” (my home). Francisco speaks highly of seafood, beaches, missions, vineyards, salt flats, whale watching, surfing, camping, fishing, relaxing, scuba diving, motorcycle races and hiking. He can tell you about almost any attraction within the region; he is quite the ambassador for this part of the country, which offers unique landscapes.

 

 

We left expensive Los Cabos behind, arriving at a wonderful quiet place called Cerritos Surf Town Beach Hotel & Spa. Only a couple of tourists were wandering lost in this resort. We got into our bathing suits and proceeded towards the sea. I could not believe Miguel actually went into the water with me. It felt good to see him carry my flip flaps during our walk along the wide beach. “What a gentleman!”, I thought. His other hand was holding mine and I felt happy, safe and animated. We were smiling, giggling and very fast out of the cold Pacific Ocean. Holding and kissing each other in the playful waves was a fun and short memorable moment for me.

 

Before we shivered even more, we hurried out of the sea, barefoot on the sand towards the building, to quickly jump into a nice restful hot tub. It felt so good! It was practically private until another man came in to chat with us. COVID 19 was a mystery, humans still travelling the world equally odd, so one could not miss the chance of finding out what had brought or kept those people outside their homes during this new virus spread.

 

 

Plenty of people became afraid of touching anything or anyone. I could no longer satisfy my curiosity about what other people walking past me smelled like, they would all step away. I had this terrible sensation of lacking human touch, like I had lacked the year I lived in Sweden. During COVID, some wore masks all day long in spite of the difficulty to breath with them on, others broke up relationships with relatives or friends, thousands had a tough time with online classes or working from home. Not to mention all the deaths, depressed people, anxiety, fear and job losses. It was strange and somehow horrid. People could even wonder whether those approaching them at a table in a restaurant were thieves or waiters with half their faces covered. A certain amount discussed vaccines, got into nonsense arguments with family members, became addicted to alcohol gel and compulsive hand washing… until it all ended… years later.

 

They served us dinner on the edge of the hot tub at the resort. It was a delicious tuna fish with cherry tomatoes and lettuce (followed by a bunch of tacos in a small place downtown later that night). I remember the bright Sun hiding behind the surf boards while we dined, lined up next to each other on the rack, lonely, with nobody making use of them those days.

 

 

Night came. All I wanted to do was to be with my chico. He held me against the cold shower wall while we waited for the water to warm up. I wanted to stop him because the tiles felt cold on my naked back, but before I could say anything we were laughing and kissing. I remember the temperature contrast between the freezing tiles on my skin and Miguel’s warm arms pulling me towards him. I had missed playing and having fun with him like this.

 

We cried a few times that night, just holding each other in bed, with his deep, cheerful, yet tearful eyes looking into mine. I had much to say, with and without words. It felt great to be together again. We talked and talked till we fell into a sweet sleep that, unfortunately, was interrupted by the couple next door to us yelling at each other in the middle of the night. What?! They had checked in to the hotel quite late, argued for a couple of hours, and left early the next morning. It made me sad to know some people decide to stay in violent relationships. Isn’t life supposed to be a joy? I guess this is one more reason for couple’s counselling to remain popular.

 

The next morning was relaxing. When I came out of the room to meet my friends under the hut by the beach, there was a nice plate of colourful fruit waiting for me. It was good for my body. Yogurt, granola and a hot cup of coffee; spoiled and fortunate me! I was ready for a walk to the end of the mini bay. We climbed up, taking pictures, while the waves splashed and crashed onto the piles of pointy rocks that had been mere shadows in the dark the previous night.

 

 

 

We headed north around noon. Miguel and I rode in the truck and the other guy on a motorcycle. One of the highlights of this trip was to go whale watching in the Viscaino Biosphere. It’s lowlands, adjacent to the Ojo de Liebre Lagoon, are also site to the largest commercial saltworks plant in the world. How exciting!

 

We drove past the isolated salt flats, with only a quiet guard at the entrance to wave us in. Why was there nobody else there? As soon as we got to the lagoon’s dock, we discovered that all activity had just closed down that same day, due to COVID 19 regulations. I guess it was time for humans to give wild life a break from us.

 

 

After a few months of lockdown, I actually recall seeing dolphins swimming and jumping fairly close to the shore in Cancun. I was able to witness this because I went to the beach at a time when I was not supposed to, oops.  No excuse, but a friend of mine down there lives for swimming in the ocean, daily. He was about to collapse from depression during this restriction period and I merely felt the need to help him out. We sneaked in, avoiding all police cars, beach guards and feelings of guilt. It was worth it! I experienced a rejuvenating sensation as the salty turquoise waves caressed my skin once more, in the shallow calm waters. The beach was beautiful. I almost stepped on a baby ray by the shore, I saw little octopuses and plenty of fish as well! A pretty afternoon in the Caribbean… Now back to the other peninsula up north!

 

 

 

We took off towards San Ignacio, to a stupendous spot Miguel had previously sent me a video of prior to our journey. There was an “oasis” in the area, with one of my favourite lodgings ever- yurts-. They were rounded houses with ceilings similar to the gills of a mushroom. It resembled a fairy tale to me, feeling like a little goblin myself, sheltering under a mushroom’s cap. I was enjoying it all, blessed with beautiful company. I remember that, as we cuddled under the covers in one of the four beds inside the big yurt, my chico told me more stories about his friend Eric, who had passed away some years ago. It is always touching to listen to him talk about this dear person whom he cared so much about. My chico has a good heart.

We went kayaking on the river in San Ignacio. I asked Miguel not to paddle at all. I wanted to take him on the ride, doing all the work myself, letting him unwind while I thought of past camping times in Wisconsin. Canoeing trips were the best! My body felt extraordinary and content, soaking in the nature around me. The sound of the water when I dipped the paddle in, making playful swirls as we glided forward in the kayak, was soothing. Graceful white herons flying by the river shore contributed to this delightful atmosphere; a captivating instant escorted by fresh palm trees, in which no worries took place. It seemed infinite, endless… I now realize it was, and it still is!

 

 

In any event, I did not get to see whales this first time in Baja California Sur, due to the lockdown. I did, however, run freely on part of the Salt Flats in Guerrero Negro, enjoyed wonderful Sunsets while riding the truck, played on the sand in Scorpion Bay, had good talks on the road, posed for sexy photographs up on the rocks around San Francisco’s Mission and Cataviña, laughed under the Sun, chatted with some fishermen by the marvelous wide beach in San Quintin, collected sand dollars as souvenirs while writing with my fingertips on the sand, had as much or as little food as we found along the way -mostly homemade tacos from people who opened up their homes to those stranded in the area-, and, oh, yes… I helped Kevin with the roofing of his new building!

 

It took me some time to get over this man’s comment: “Women do not go up on roofs”. It sounded a little sexist to me. I wanted to help! Kevin was shocked when he saw me going up the flimsy wooden ladder. His slanted eyes, observing me, advised me to come down and talk about the emotional help he wanted for the girls instead. Hard physical work was for men and not for me, according to him. Agh… What was worse, the COVID enigma or his medieval approach? Fine, I climbed down the ladder.

 

Kevin was a man from abroad who had settled in Baja California some years prior to our visit. He was helping workers from southern Mexico, mainly Chiapas and Oaxaca. An awesome project! These families are talked into coming up north for work during harvest season, to pick up berries in local farms. They are charged quite a lot for lodging, transportation from their hometown to this part of the peninsula -practically across the entire country-, and food. During their stay in Baja California, they live in tiny houses rented to them by their employers, where they leave their kids behind, unattended, while they work in the fields. The children receive no schooling in the meantime, of course. In various unfortunate occasions, both girls and boys end up being molested, even getting pregnant at a truly young age. It is a sad situation.

 

 

Kevin’s project was to provide therapy, schooling, information and other positive changes for these families. Alright, not so medieval after all, he was actually considerate and clever. Let me clarify that he had nothing to do with the employers of these families nor the farm owners. He had bought land close to these workers’ houses and had slowly gotten to know them, becoming aware of the lack of emotional support, poor sexual education and vulnerability of both children and adults within this community.

 

The new building in his property was meant to be a large classroom for all the activities to be held in order to cover some of the issues I have mentioned above. Thus, I honestly wanted to help with the physical construction of it as well, besides getting involved with the psychological part of the project.

 

I listened to Kevin’s ideas attentively. Women were the number one target to help in this community. Him and I made a plan for the months to come, which included some individual psychotherapy, sharing circles and sexual education. The idea was to try to do these sessions online (video calls had not even begun to become so popular yet, as they became during and certainly after COVID), and to try to come back in person once his building was finished. He was happy! I unquestionably got back up on the roof, right after our conversation, to work hand in hand with my chico and my new friend Trent. Kevin made no more comments about ‘women and roofing’. He took a few pictures of us before climbing down the shaky ladder himself, and hugged us goodbye at the end of the day. What a productive stop!

 

 

Back to the stupendous yurts, which I later on found in the country of Kyrgyzstan as well -but that is surely a very different story-, I was looking forward to staying at that same paradisaical lodging on my second trip to this area of Baja South, practically four years later. So I did! It is indeed a spot I can recommend to stay in: San Ignacio Springs Bed & Breakfast. Bonny and Paul are friendly hosts, food is good (though pricey), and the mushroom-like houses are amazing.

 

 

On the way towards San Ignacio, during this second trip, I rode under the rain all day long. Unlike my first visit, when Miguel and I drove his truck, loaded with motorbikes, granola bars, and sanitizing gel -to protect us from the COVID 19 enigma-, this second ride included full rain and riding gears, helmets, gloves, adventure boots, two talented drivers, two motorcycles, no truck, and, of course, me: a happy audacious pillion!

 

 

Grey clouds had been threatening to fall down on us since we took off from Old Town San Diego, the starting point of our second peninsula adventure. We crossed the border into gorgeous Mexico, rode through Ensenada, San Felipe, all the way to Guerrero Negro… where, for a second time, we were unable to see the gray whales. No more COVID like four years ago, but rainy weather had obliged the port at Laguna Ojo de Liebre to close that day. Rather than letting frustration into our systems, we sat down in front of the lagoon to enjoy the overcast view. We each drank a cozy cup of hot chocolate with sweet marshmallows on top, we chatted with locals, smiled and were grateful for life.

 

 

By the time we reached San Ignacio, having left Guerrero Negro in the morning, we were soaking wet, tired and hungry. There was no vacancy in the yurts this time, but the hosts accommodated us in their building across the street in a typical… functional room. My two travelling partners, who happened to be the same ones as before, sheltered inside it while I worked at the hotel’s reception, where faster WiFi was available. My friends waited with the electric heater on, took hot showers, and ate yummy carne asada burritos with hot Mexican sauce from the small restaurant in front of the nearby gas station. The food there seemed healthy and good priced. I could not wait to eat, though I was also keen to meet up with my clients for therapy. I hurried out of my wet riding gear, threw on a thick warm mop and connected with my patients.

 

I attended two more appointments the following day, savored a vast breakfast chatting with Paul and Bonnie and then took off to Mulegé. Yes, I will say it again, I am fortunate and thankful to be able to work while travelling.

 

This experience at San Ignacio Springs was quite different from the first one. No kayaking and no relaxing by the river, plus the mushroom-like houses are definitely nicer, warmer and more interesting than the room where we slept in this second time; but I did embrace both visits.

 

 

Discovering little spots along the way while riding a motorcycle is fabulous. The atmosphere in little Mulegé was welcoming. Purple bougainvillea trees in the tiny plaza, where I devoured good seafood tacos, nourished my spirit. These trees brighten up any space and turn it comfy for the sight, they somehow make me feel at home. I see them as part of the richness and hospitality of this country. We found a picturesque hotel full of plants in the back garden, a fireplace in the dining area and a barbecue out on the side terrace. It was owned by a friendly talkative man who had, like some others, lived and worked in the United States for a period of time, and had then returned home to set up a business of his own. He did a pleasant job!

 

I sat among our sweaty riding gears, scattered all over the back patio, in between clay pots and colourful flowers. I felt tired. Why are men so eager to sit down and drink cold beer after a motorcycle ride? That is what my travelling partners do every time. I guess it does them well. From my part, I always want to stretch, take a hot shower and have the most hydrating drink I can find around.

 

Well, some things are not perfect in every place; the WiFi in our mini paradise was slow as the cows crossing a road when a feisty dog is running after you and you need to speed up. Miguel had to share his data for both of my sessions during that stay. It’s funny when this happens because he needs to keep his phone close by, yet sit far away enough from me in order to give me privacy. He is quick at helping me and we always figure things out! Yep, just like the roads, he says: “I cannot fix them (potholes, speed bumps, crazy drivers), but I can do my best so that we both stay safe and have a great time.” Woo hoo!

 

 

 

 

After a good night’s rest, we continued our ride. It was in the city of Loreto, on the Gulf of California, where we needed to find the whale sculpture near the boardwalk, right after purchasing our blue whale watching tickets. We wanted to know where to meet the tour guide the next day without being in a rush. This walk reminded me of the Malecón in Havana, Cuba, except it was warm and humid down there, whereas this Mexican coast was chilly and windy, especially after Sunset. I was hoping to have better weather the next morning for our whale adventure. I was eager to go see the largest animal in the world!

 

Once we located the whale statue, Miguel and I headed towards the main square, where we ran into our friend wondering around with his Tinder date of the day. (Why not meet someone new anywhere and everywhere you go?). It was a lively plaza, offering all kinds of local Mexican goodies to eat, games, colorful lights and drinks. I even witnessed a quinceañera celebration, with several tables set up for dinner out in the middle of the public square. The quinceañera showed up riding a horse and wearing a long blue puffy dress, which matched the centrepieces for her guests. Without a doubt, if they had not already done so before her fifteenth birthday, most people in town noticed this girl’s presence after her event (which is the original purpose of a quinceañera celebration: to let guys know the girl is now marriageable). Not that I am into young marriages at all, but I enjoy traditions, and quinceañera parties, plus their photo shoots by the steps of the main church in any town, are always nice to watch.

 

 

It was a fun night in Loreto, including a phone call from my niece, Tania, to whom I love to talk to and try to be available for, whenever I can. One of my aunts used to do the same thing for me, except she did not travel nor did she have a cell phone back then. She worked full time, extra time, all the time, with everybody and with nobody, for everybody and for nobody. There were times when she did not want to deal with nor see “any living being” other than herself. She would clearly announce it before slamming the door to lock herself up in her bedroom for at least a couple of hours. I only saw it happen once, though I heard she did it on several occasions. To each their own! She used to tell great stories, or better said, she turned any story into a good story. Quite weird at times, entertaining, funny too. I really liked her until… I lost her… many years ago.

 

My aunt had an office phone in her workspace. I could ring her anytime. I knew she would pick up, unless taxes were due, in which case somebody else would answer the phone for her to inform “she was not there”, though she was, but working away. I had learned she would still go on line with me… till she did not. Without a word, without any prior notice, she exited my life and distanced herself into her own world and scenario, away from many of her loved ones. It was hurtful for everyone, probably even more so for herself. It seemed like a big loss at the time, I now see it differently. Each person has their own learning path; we each make our own unique decisions as we come across challenges in our lives.

 

I remember my first therapist telling me I had the ability to build deep meaningful bonds with people, yet letting go of them, as the occasion demanded it. She considered this an important, practically essential, tool to have if I were to become a Psychologist myself. She said some clients would disappear, many others would finish their process and move on. Either way, they would eventually be gone from my life, just like landscapes vanish as you drive past them along the road, to most likely never be seen again. She intuited I would not miss people, but could cherish them in the present and then keep walking without ever looking back. This has been quite true! Though perhaps not so simple with my aunt; it took me some time to get over her decision of stepping aside from my family and hers.

 

After some years, my aunt tried to “come back”. My heart was open, the empathy towards each other restored; we would talk a bit over the phone now and then, but her brain had changed and so had our relationship. I missed her even then. She finished and parted her human journey in May of 2023. It is a strange feeling to lose a loved one more than once.

 

I am crying… Writing brings out various types of feelings, which are sometimes worn on the sleeve, other times hidden deep under the skin. They eventually come out, maybe unexpectedly, “without permission”, hee, hee. Yes, they do. No feeling can be denied for too long. It is best to acknowledge them. I am diluting sadness with healing tears right now. I have learnt that, every so often, our feelings require no explanation nor specific shelf to categorize them into. All they need is to be expressed and released. Once you truly observe, to hopefully reach an understanding of and/or respect for a situation or a person, there isn’t anything to forgive… There is only love, acceptance, and letting go.

 

I certainly hope I can be available for my nieces and nephews when they need me, for as long as I live!

 

 

Back to Loreto! The Sun came out for Trent, Miguel and I to meet at a coffee shop and walked towards the whale statue once again. A little cold and overcast, yet my excitement and the hot drink warmed me up. The tour guide arrived to walk us towards the boat. Three Brazilians got on board with us. You could tell by their outfits they had more experience than I did for this kind of ride. Warm hats, mouths and noses covered, plus gloves. It was the fifth time they were going out during their visit to Baja California Sur, impatient to find and admire the blue whales. Wow! We took off into the bay, heading towards the islands, with cool induced wind, holding our coffee cups and, in my case, a big smile.

 

 

Engines off! It was time to quietly float with my eyes fixed on the surface, waiting for the first whale spout. Man was it high and loud! Did you know that a blue whale’s jet can reach up to eleven or twelve metres in height? It was phenomenal. Once we located their jets we could see these magnificent animals’ backs coming out on the surface, showing part of their blow-holes. So cute. I was too fascinated to even take any pictures at first. Then, spectacularly, a huge tail surprised us! I genuinely enjoyed this boat ride.

 

 

 

Our whale watching peers refused to stop at a beach for either lunch or for peeing; so we each took turns to sneak to the back of the boat, assuming the others would look in a different direction, as we filled up an old plastic jug cut up in half, emptying it out into the ocean afterwards. No gel nor hand washing for the quick lunch on board either… Oh, well. This actually gave us more time out in the bay, in between the islands, where the blue whales tend to hang out, granting us the opportunity to see yet another huge cetacean. It breached in front of us, approximately three meters away from the boat, almost too close, something that rarely happens with these blue ones! It gave me tears and lots of smiles to witness this, plus I ended up even more eager to finally encounter the gray whales a few days later. We were all cheering, very satisfied with our blue whale watching day!

 

It felt nice to be back at the same hotel we had stayed at a week earlier in Guerrero Negro, except this time it was sunny and clear, so we truly expected the port at Ojo de Liebre Lagoon to be open for us to go gray whale watching. We washed our smelly riding socks and T-shirts before heading into the bar for “Mezcalinas” (Mil Diablos mezcal, soda, dried powdered chilly and lime juice), to cheer for the Super Bowl players that evening. It was crowded and noisy there; I did not last long among so many people and opted for a quiet time in the dining area next door instead. They served good desserts with comforting ginger tea, which I did not have to share with anybody during my alone time, ha.

 

Early the next morning I held a therapy session at the corner of the hotel’s restaurant, placing the heater right next to my chair. In spite of the absence of clouds in the sky, the temperature was quite cold for me. Black coffee is good company while listening to my clients’ thoughts and insights. The sensation I get after an effective productive meeting with them is priceless. It makes my day! Except this day kept getting better and better with varied unexpected lovely experiences. I had no idea what life had actually arranged for me on that fortunate Monday morning.

 

Forty five pesos per “cup” of coffee? They charged for each “refill” without even asking or with the cup still half full. A quite weak filtered one too, unbelievable. It was not as bad as the instant coffee I had all along the Ecuadorian coast during a South American adventure, for days, wondering why they only offered boiled water with tasteless dark brown powder. Yes, Ecuador is actually famous for growing coffee beans destined for some of the most popular instant coffees in the world (pretty horrible if you are a coffee lover. It might be famous somewhere, though in my opinion, sure enough not good anywhere). The waiter at the hotel in Guerrero Negro felt embarrassed enough to modify the bill, cancelling one out of the five half cups he had poured and charged for. This incident led us into not going back to the hotel’s restaurant during the rest our stay and, instead, finding a homey delicious place further down the road that afternoon: Caprichos Coffeehouse.

 

 

Anyhow… We geared up after my therapy session that day, optimistic to get to Laguna Ojo de Liebre once more, to hopefully find those longed for gray cetaceans in the bay. What a treat! The skies were clear, the ocean was flat and we were only five passengers in the boat. The Universe was kind to me again, thank you!

 

The guy in charge of selling the tickets showed us a bunch of attractive fossils they had found in the area. They were enormous shark teeth from ancient times, according to him. I could not tell how old the teeth actually were, I just found them attractive. Miguel tried his luck one more time, like he had done where we booked the blue whale tour in Loreto. Back there, he saw a beautiful conch, from a huge clam I think, sitting on the shelf by a window in the office. He asked the receptionist if he could have it. She said it was worth a hundred dollars. Well… really? After chatting back and forth, she suddenly said he could take it as a gift, as long as he hid it in his mop’s front pouch, in order to avoid showing it out on the streets. Wow! He was happy, so was I for him. To my surprise, he gave it to me for a new place I was planning to move to in a few months. I also tried hard with the guy in Guerrero Negro, hoping he would give me a shark tooth for me to gift to Miguel… but it did not work. I probably did not flirt enough or as good as my chico had done with the friendly funny lady in the other town.

 

The wait was short. The three of us got into the boat, with a Chilean couple who had come all the way from their country, to experience this whale-human encounter. Surely worth the long trip from the southern hemisphere to any part of Mexico. We were all delighted! First whale breach, from then on, I smiled nonstop. These animals are a wonder. They were everywhere. I could see them in front of me, behind me, on both sides of the boat. Marvelous. Patiently and quietly, we approached the middle of the bay and paused.

 

 

 

Suddenly, huge shadows began to swim under our boat! As they got closer, I was able to see the white spots on their gray smooth skin. Fantastic! I could not wait for them to pop their heads out of the water close to our arms reaching out from the side of the boat. Oh my goddess! The whales began doing so, I was in ecstasy, completely awed. A baby whale swam by us, not too close, since he was still little. Our guide explained to us that the moms show their babies it is safe to approach humans, at least in this part of the world. Once the baby whales grow a bit older, let’s say three to four weeks of age, they swim towards the boats on their own; supervised and encouraged by their mothers, they play and let human visitors pet them. Indescribable!

 

 

Gray whales are about twelve to fifteen meters long, much smaller than the blue ones. They are friendly and playful. Yeih! I finally got to pet one! It brought its head out of the water and tilted it towards us. We were right there. Miguel was filming it all, in spite of me constantly asking him to keep the underwater camera away from these mammals. I did not want him to scare them away. He obviously did not. It all worked out perfectly, the videos turned out lovely, reflecting an outstanding part of our whale adventure.

 

I touched the whale’s head. It was soft, smooth! I feel like crying (again? yes), as I remember all of this. I felt a deep connection with the whole planet when petting this imposing yet noble living being. It was as if I could touch and reach out to all the places I have been to, plus the ones yet to be explored. I felt an immediate revealing connection to everything and everyone, through this mammal and the water around him (our guide said it was a male). A very particular unique sensation! He seemed to like my touch, keeping his head out of the water for longer than I could have hoped for, tilting it and moving it as I gently pet him in awe. The experience of a lifetime!

 

 

I wanted to tell this particular whale that I honoured his presence, his existence. I wished to thank him for having let me touch him, for having been touched by him, by our encounter -which I consider a proof of how much we are alike-. My whole soul felt sublime. I truly wanted to hug this grey whale, who had earned my respect in a heartbeat. I believe I did somehow. What a gift!

 

How could I say no to riding the Compadres’ Trail after having experienced all this joy with the whales?! It was a ride we had discussed about doing on the following day, though nothing concrete. We each have our highlights, both guys really wanted to ride it. I was indecisive. Miguel loves challenges and I wanted him to have them, but… I had already gone through some tough off-road sections on this trip.

 

Going to the missions in the middle of the sierra and desert was a little crazy for me. Hard to believe religious people actually traveled there from far away, centuries ago, anxious to turn a rather small peninsular population to Christianity. Would we fall on a cactus or a rock, find a snake or run out of water in those dry landscapes? I am usually quite positive but… uff… I admit we came across very beautiful scenery all along those off road routes. Other than by foot, horse or mule, I cannot think of many other ways to experience this; so no complaints, they were very pretty motorcycle rides up to the missions.

 

 

 

 

Back to the Compadres’ Trail discussion! “Ten kilometers in and you decide whether to go back on the pavement towards Tijuana or finish the off road ride. There is ice cream at the end of the trail”, Miguel promised. He does keep his promises; nevertheless, no ice cream makes up for unexpected soft sand nor for my butt being spanked going over roots, whoops or moguls and much more. I had invested enough energy in getting over bad memories from Peru. My body and mind had been responding to each bump with tension, practically fear, the first couple of days during the off road sections on this second trip to Baja. The memory of the South American ladies threatening to throw rocks at us, the burnt train tracks… We were definitely safe in Mexico from any of that. I was, however, unsure I needed any more bumpiness right then.

 

 

 

My mind kept wobbling. I honestly wanted to make Miguel happy, just like he had made me by driving back and forth to finally see the magnificent whales. Do not get me wrong, motorcycles are indeed fun, but being a pillion is a lot more than just “holding on”, like some non-ever-pillion drivers think, especially on some of this sketchy peninsular terrain. I did not know what to do. How did I get myself into this in the first place? Why am I on a motorcycle?

 

When I initially rode on the back of my chico’s bike, some years ago, he told me balance was one of the skills required for riding. Knowing that I was a yoga instructor when we first met, he kind of thought I’d be good at riding. In those days, I saw no similarities between yoga practice and driving a motorbike. The possible resemblance between the two motivated me to try it, and I got on. Today I could say that riding a motorcycle does imply some of the skills one acquires with the practice of yoga. One has got to be good at concentrating, breathing mindfully, and staying aware of one’s body as well as the surroundings. Without a doubt, balance is essential for this activity! One distraction and you can go down bad or get hurt. I say distraction rather than mistake because you will fall regardless of your expertise, just maybe not as bad if you are paying attention.

 

Trying to lean my decision towards riding the Compadres’ Trail, I brought to my memory some good riding moments I had had in the course of this fun trip. The first one was coming out of Laguna Ojo de Liebre that afternoon, driving by Guerrero Negro’s Salt Flats. Miguel began to teach me how to drive a motorcycle, for the first time ever. He unexpectedly asked me to grab one end of the handle bar, then the other end of the bar, so that I would have full control of the steering. I was panicking a bit, but nothing as bad as when I swam with sharks, along a very narrow canal, without having signed up for it in advance. I was practically pushed into it. I believed plenty of shiny sharp teeth and pointy fins were wandering outside the canal, where I was already swimming around anyway, so… I do not regret it! It was one of the most unique snorkeling adventures I have had. Though I will for sure try to stay away from any other type of shark encounter from now on. Not my thing!

 

At the Salt Flats, Miguel would not place his hands back on the bar until I… yelled for both of our lives! Ha, ha, ha! We were driving the Africa Twin on a hard pack combined with gravel. It wasn’t that difficult at all… except the bike kept going towards the right when I wanted it to go left. It was scary, yet entertaining. I ended up bursting into laughter. My partner did save us from riding off the side of the road. We then kept enjoying the scenery and playing around in the sand, hee, hee! This whole experience gave me an adrenaline rush and giggles. It was a challenge to use different inputs than the ones I would use to drive a car; having to respond real quick, yet not knowing how. I am smiling now!

 

 

 

 

The second memory I made use of while trying to convince myself to go on the Compadres’ Trail, was one on our way out of Scorpion Bay (San Juanico, BCS) some days before. I would say we were driving at a higher speed than usual for this kind of road: gravel, some sand, unpaved, uneven, dusty and bumpy. We ran into a mogul and flew over it. It was awkward, almost funny, to have ended up in Malasana (Garland pose in yoga) on the motorcycle, unintentionally of course. Knees bent to the sides of my chest, deep squat and everything. For a second, I had to look down at my pegs trying to find my feet, only to realize they had both landed on top of the back seat of the bike! I am glad my body is flexible. I literally went up in the air. Both Miguel and I stayed in one piece. Trent laughed behind us, and so did we after recovering our breath. Now that I think about it, I am not sure whether this was an encouraging moment or not, hee, hee, but it was humorous.

 

 

I guess what I am trying to say with all of this, is that I have had many interesting and entertaining moments on a motorcycle. It is amusing! Scary at times, dangerous for sure, challenging and… “Alright!”, I agreed. “Ten kilometres into the Compadres’ Trail” -to more or less get an idea of what the other fifty kilometres would be like- , “and I will decide whether we finish it or drive away on pavement. Let’s go!”

 

Once the Sun came out, we headed towards the famous Ruta de los Compadres, located in the northwest of Baja California. Our trip was almost over. Having travelled down, across and back up this Mexican Peninsula, I was filled with joy, excitement and excellent memories, besides hundreds of pictures to add to my collection. There was a bumpy section on our way to the Compadres’ trail, between our hotel and the actual entrance to this route, that I would not have wanted to drive through again in order for us to go back on a paved road up north, even if the first ten kilometres of the Compadres’ Trail had seemed unfriendly for me. So I am truly glad that both the first part of the trail, as well as the rest of its kilometres, worked out well for everyone, hee, hee!

 

 

Los Compadres was indeed a pretty trail. Our drive went smoothly. Technically speaking, it was quite simple compared to what we had previously gone through in order to visit the missions. On top of its beauty, including countless types of cactus, cool breeze, pine trees and a little bit of snow up on top, the Compadres’ Trail turned out fairly easy for us; leaving me happy we had ridden this trail together. The only tricky part was towards the end of the trail. I was really concerned about my partner’s arm, because his shoulder had been in pain on and off for some time, and I got worried he’d get hurt when we struggled in the mud for a couple of minutes. Luckily, we were quick to react, to get out of it fast and to keep going until we finished the trail! Miguel was fine, thank goddess.

 

 

 

 

I was able to hold on in peace once again. Peruvian flashbacks were left behind for good (I hope). Throughout the ride, I stayed alert rather than scared, grinning rather than breathing hard, chatting rather than screaming, ha, ha! It was cool! (The promised ice-cream at the end of the trail was not too great at all, but I did actually have one). Some paths are always a surprise, which is part of the charm of these adventures!

 

 

The whole Peninsula of Baja California is a gorgeous region. It is unalike the rest of Mexico, distinct from the rest of the planet. With some similarities to a few places, naturally, in the same manner as humans are: diverse and alike at the same time. This peninsula offers great skies, shiny seashells along the beach or rocks to collect on the way, delightful vineyards to explore, a vast and intriguing desertic vegetation, a dense quietness when you pause up in the sierra, stunning views while travelling off road, loud whispering winds, sheltering pines and surprisingly changing landscapes. I find it wonderful. Where it might seem like “no woman’s land”, one never feels alone.

 

 

From my experience, it does not truly matter where you are, but how you are, with whom you are, the way in which you approach a happening, and your attitude. Whether it is a real disaster, a fun adventure, or a misunderstanding between you and your loved one, there is a gift within every event. Treasure them all!

 

 

Back home, I find myself scrubbing my filthy riding gear. It was muddy days ago, then worn on the plane, leaving dry dirt behind, oops. I remember the moguls, my screams, the friendly astounding cetaceans, getting up and ready in the morning, the cozy coffee shops, relaxing under the shaded streets of small towns, the marine breeze by the board walks, going to bed tired at night, magnificent stars on pitch black skies, the hugs, the facial expressions of strangers, the curvy roads, the privilege of holding dear therapy sessions along the way, the welcoming desert, the tasty shrimp tacos, my friends’ smiles, the deep blue ocean behind the green tall cactus, the impressive rock formations, the palatable wines of the Valle de Guadalupe, plus the warm comforting human snuggles at the end of every day. Both trips were a gem! Whether on four or two wheels, I would traverse Baja all over again!

 

As I hang my wet clean gear under the bright hot Sun, I picture it presentable once more. I smile, knowing that I am ready for the next ride!