Prologue
On July 2nd, 2007 I set off on what I thought would be a 5 month (snicker) adventure. Two months later, I had decided to head back home from Brazil...overland. One year, 5 months, and 14 days later, I decided in the south of Mexico that I did not want to spend another Christmas away from family. I had not seen their faces in nearly a year and a half, not even in a photograph. It was time to go back. And so started the long road home to a Christmas surprise.
To the Coast, Across the Sea
My task was not easy. I had roughly 3000 miles to cover in about a week and a half, combined with some visits to two more cities in Mexico. Leaving Oaxaca on Thursday night (Dec. 11), two buses during the night got me to Cuernavaca early Friday morning on the 12th. After a full day in Cuerna exploring, another overnight bus got me to Guanajuato on the 13th. There I rested, explored, and chilled out until the 15th, a Monday. That afternoon, I made my way to Guadalajara, and then took an overnight bus to Mazatlan on the Pacific coast. That same day, the 16th, I was on the overnight ferry for cargo to La Paz, located in the south of Baja California and on the coast of the Sea of Cortez. The good thing about the cargo ferry was that it cost $80 instead of the $120 passenger ferry, which only left the port the following day; the bad thing about it was that it cost $80, and I had busted my piggy bank a long while back. I had already resolved to hitchhike through Baja, so that fare just made me more determined to do so, and so I made my way from the port to the northern outskirts of La Paz. It took me half the day, but by noon on the 17th, I was ready to start hitch-hiking my way north.
Thumbin' Baja
The strategy for hitchhiking in Latin America is a bit different than the typical stand on the road with your thumb out approach. Sometimes that works, depending on the country you are in, but usually not. A better method is to find your way to a gas station on the outskirts of town and on the highway you wish to travel down. That can be a hard task, as these are usually far from where you are and not usually on any bus routes, so normally you end up walking...a lot. Once at the station, you just start asking people for rides, recruiting the service guys if you can (there are no self service gas stations in Latin America), and mainly you focus on truck drivers. Uncharacteristically easy, I found a ride with the first person I asked, a truck driver on his way to Ensenada, only hour and a half south of Tijuana. Within 5 minutes of arriving at the station, I was on my way once again.
Off we went, cruising along in Alfredo's big rig as I watched the desert and ocean scenery fade away into dusk. We drove on into the night, stopping to sleep at 2 am on the 17th for a nap. Curled up on the front seat, uncomfortable and cold, my backpack propped on the floor to create a makeshift pillow, I couldn't help but smile at my situation. Some would call this crazy, dangerous, and not at all worth the effort. But there I was, shivering through a cold night in the Mexican desert, uncomfortably curled up on the front seat of a big rig trying stubbornly to sleep, yet completely content with my situation. It was the ultimate end to my travels, and I felt I was ending my adventure in the perfect way. I had utilized every possible avenue to get back home overland (bus, boat, and thumb), was ahead of schedule, totally roughing it, and loving every minute of it.
We "overslept" into the brisk, early morning of the 18th, and by 7:00 am Alfredo and I started up the truck and were off again. After more beautiful scenery, we arrived late in the afternoon in the very touristy and Americanized town of Ensenada around 2 pm. I could feel my proximity to the Empire by the overwhelming amount of oversized chain stores with their oversized signs advertising their overextended, imposing American enterprises. Alfredo delivered his load of scrap metal to his client, but it had to be unloaded by hand, which they ended up doing through much of that night. Not having eaten all day, Alfredo and I walked through the back streets of Ensenada to grab some grub.
Lasts
Not wanting to spend money on a hotel, and hoping on a chance that Alfredo's next call would be to Tijuana, I spent the night again in his truck, making a more elaborate but only slightly more comfortable bed out of the two front seats of his cab, my backpack acting as the filler to the space inbetween the seats. Unfortunately it didn't work out that Alfredo could take me to TJ, so after a light breakfast of tacos, we parted ways. As I headed to the bus stop on the 19th of December, I realized that every act I was going through would be my last in Mexico, and my last in a foreign country on this trip. If that doesn't freak you out a bit, I don't know what does, but you can't fight inevitability. One last hour-and-a-half bus brought me to TJ, where I performed some last minute errands (which did not include a visit to one of a plethora of titty bars), and then headed off for one last border. I got one last exit stamp, stood in one last long line, and stepped over into one last country, my country, for the first time in a year and a half.
To be continued...
On July 2nd, 2007 I set off on what I thought would be a 5 month (snicker) adventure. Two months later, I had decided to head back home from Brazil...overland. One year, 5 months, and 14 days later, I decided in the south of Mexico that I did not want to spend another Christmas away from family. I had not seen their faces in nearly a year and a half, not even in a photograph. It was time to go back. And so started the long road home to a Christmas surprise.
To the Coast, Across the Sea
My task was not easy. I had roughly 3000 miles to cover in about a week and a half, combined with some visits to two more cities in Mexico. Leaving Oaxaca on Thursday night (Dec. 11), two buses during the night got me to Cuernavaca early Friday morning on the 12th. After a full day in Cuerna exploring, another overnight bus got me to Guanajuato on the 13th. There I rested, explored, and chilled out until the 15th, a Monday. That afternoon, I made my way to Guadalajara, and then took an overnight bus to Mazatlan on the Pacific coast. That same day, the 16th, I was on the overnight ferry for cargo to La Paz, located in the south of Baja California and on the coast of the Sea of Cortez. The good thing about the cargo ferry was that it cost $80 instead of the $120 passenger ferry, which only left the port the following day; the bad thing about it was that it cost $80, and I had busted my piggy bank a long while back. I had already resolved to hitchhike through Baja, so that fare just made me more determined to do so, and so I made my way from the port to the northern outskirts of La Paz. It took me half the day, but by noon on the 17th, I was ready to start hitch-hiking my way north.
Thumbin' Baja
The strategy for hitchhiking in Latin America is a bit different than the typical stand on the road with your thumb out approach. Sometimes that works, depending on the country you are in, but usually not. A better method is to find your way to a gas station on the outskirts of town and on the highway you wish to travel down. That can be a hard task, as these are usually far from where you are and not usually on any bus routes, so normally you end up walking...a lot. Once at the station, you just start asking people for rides, recruiting the service guys if you can (there are no self service gas stations in Latin America), and mainly you focus on truck drivers. Uncharacteristically easy, I found a ride with the first person I asked, a truck driver on his way to Ensenada, only hour and a half south of Tijuana. Within 5 minutes of arriving at the station, I was on my way once again.
Off we went, cruising along in Alfredo's big rig as I watched the desert and ocean scenery fade away into dusk. We drove on into the night, stopping to sleep at 2 am on the 17th for a nap. Curled up on the front seat, uncomfortable and cold, my backpack propped on the floor to create a makeshift pillow, I couldn't help but smile at my situation. Some would call this crazy, dangerous, and not at all worth the effort. But there I was, shivering through a cold night in the Mexican desert, uncomfortably curled up on the front seat of a big rig trying stubbornly to sleep, yet completely content with my situation. It was the ultimate end to my travels, and I felt I was ending my adventure in the perfect way. I had utilized every possible avenue to get back home overland (bus, boat, and thumb), was ahead of schedule, totally roughing it, and loving every minute of it.
We "overslept" into the brisk, early morning of the 18th, and by 7:00 am Alfredo and I started up the truck and were off again. After more beautiful scenery, we arrived late in the afternoon in the very touristy and Americanized town of Ensenada around 2 pm. I could feel my proximity to the Empire by the overwhelming amount of oversized chain stores with their oversized signs advertising their overextended, imposing American enterprises. Alfredo delivered his load of scrap metal to his client, but it had to be unloaded by hand, which they ended up doing through much of that night. Not having eaten all day, Alfredo and I walked through the back streets of Ensenada to grab some grub.
Lasts
Not wanting to spend money on a hotel, and hoping on a chance that Alfredo's next call would be to Tijuana, I spent the night again in his truck, making a more elaborate but only slightly more comfortable bed out of the two front seats of his cab, my backpack acting as the filler to the space inbetween the seats. Unfortunately it didn't work out that Alfredo could take me to TJ, so after a light breakfast of tacos, we parted ways. As I headed to the bus stop on the 19th of December, I realized that every act I was going through would be my last in Mexico, and my last in a foreign country on this trip. If that doesn't freak you out a bit, I don't know what does, but you can't fight inevitability. One last hour-and-a-half bus brought me to TJ, where I performed some last minute errands (which did not include a visit to one of a plethora of titty bars), and then headed off for one last border. I got one last exit stamp, stood in one last long line, and stepped over into one last country, my country, for the first time in a year and a half.
To be continued...
ok...I'm ready for update #2
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