Oh, Mexico (NSFW)

The monkey you'll buy

The taxi you'll hire (all five of you)

The soldiers you won't photograph

First bass

Vegans eat free in Mexico.

I'll delete any comments that insinuate these chips were fried in lard. Two Coronas and lunch: $4

Margaritas as big as your head.  They left before we noticed any distress.

"... now I don't work there anymore."

Duck in here for vendor respite

Speaking of respite, we think we had it figured out while we sat in front of Algodones Optical. Vendors were walking past us as though our money were invisible.  It seems like there must be some kind of "understanding" between the shop and the street vendors, even though one petite woman did invite us to buy.  Still, it's worth keeping in mind, if you're weary of smiling "no thank you."

Annie was looking for a certain article of headwear (spoiler alert:  she bought it), and a street vendor was happy to help.  He made his lowest offer, and Annie made hers, and hers won.  She haggled!  I was so proud I could have squeed.  

This was our best and most fun Mexican visit so far (we've had three).  We may have accidentally flirted with some men, but that's what happens when you make eye contact and smile.  Magnetism like this can't be fully contained.  

Annie got "señored," and she's used to it.  She frightens women in the ladies' room with her short hair and super-aggressive swagger.  We got "sistered" by an American;  that's lesbian code for "you've been made."  It's kinda nice to be recognized, since I "pass" all the time without intending to.  It's another casualty of middle-age.

Having figured out how to have the most fun (Corona), I was sad to be done with Los Algodones for now.  Hasta luego, Mexico!

P.S.  We found out you can even haggle at the pharmacies.  Score!

"Mexico" - James Taylor

Mexico is for Livers®

If drug-running across the border worries you, this town full of middle-aged white folks will scare your pantalones off.




Los Algodones, Baja California (that's Mexico)
   

Pretty things!  But, don't let the shiny tchotchkes fool you;  this place is about the drugs. 

  

And the teeth.

   

Let me be clear.  We were there for the drugs, too.  Not the Cialis that the man next to me was trying to purchase discreetly, but we all have our own back-monkeys.

[monkey segue]

A merchant's employee has the task of carrying a ceramic monkey the size of a toddler up and down the line for departure. The monkey is smoking a cigarette and drinking a Coca Cola. The monkey is anatomically correct.  I know because I asked before I bought it.  I'm not having some inaccurate monkey rendition strapped to the ladder while we're blowing down the road;  we'd be a laughingstock.  They bought that monkey and that's not even what a monkey looks like under his pants!  

The thing is, YOU KNOW THAT MONKEY SELLS.  There are snowbirds out there (don't even look around like it's someone else) who OWN THAT MONKEY.

A little woman laden with sparkly jewelry bits said things to us in Spanish for so long that I considered eating my lunch there. The small lady is very persistent, and you will be tempted to buy something for one dollar to release her from her obligation to solicit you, but this is a tactical error.  She has colleagues.

There are many, many farmacías for you to choose from, and men on the street will tell you about them. We hit three of them for prices before we found one that had everything we wanted, so we dropped our drug money there.

People who wanted our money:

• everyone

Specifically:

1. little ladies with sparkles
2. men with produce 
3. every drug store
4. every dentist
5. every optician
6. young woman with rock chickens  
7. young woman with ceramic tortoises
8. young man with monkey
9. everyone with a shop
10. man in white uniform
11. woman selling Chiclets

People who got our money:

• Purple pharmacy (not the first one, the second one)
• guy with strawberries
• guy with asparagus

People who almost got our money:

• girl with cute chickens - she called us "beautiful movie stars"

We were going to buy some emergency Cipro, but didn't.  The woman who helped us told us that she could sell it to us, but we would have to hide it.  We laughed, and she explained that it's not an imprisonable offense, they would just send us back to get a refund.  But she couldn't refund money on Cipro.  Worse, we would have to stand in line all over again.

It was all pretty exciting.  We got to use our crispy new passports.  We got to purchase medication that we hope to never use.  It's not the hassle we thought it would be; the worst of it is the line back to the States.

Park your car for $5 at the Quechan parking lot and walk across.  We decided that bicycles would be more trouble than they're worth, even if you can ride to the front of the line.  We crossed twice, and our wait-time was about 1/2 hour each (there is no wait to cross into Mexico, only to leave). Don't worry about your Spanish;  almost everyone speaks English. Even if you're an Ugly American, you and your money are welcome here. Don't come with a lot of stuff, because you're taking a monkey home.

Lower your standards.

You know how I like to present thoughtful, intelligent, well-developed posts.  A tasty, full-course meal of profundity and visual delights. A mixed-media buffet. Tonight's special is the Swanson salisbury steak dinner of blog posts.  May I recommend Walmart's boxed Sweet Red to go with that?

Lunch.  So beautiful!  Thanks, Annie.

Imperial Dunes.  

What is this tree?

This is that.

That was this.  Plank road over the dunes.

 

I just liked it.

I didn't like this.

We walked a long way specifically to get here, but I got the willies.  High tension power lines snapping over our heads, and this thing in our sights.  I fought the urge to run.  RUN!  ME!  Such was the extent of my discomfort.

Ahh. Much better.  Check out that road.

It may be hard to tell, but this is freakin' deep.  Each dot on the floor is a giant sequoia grove.  Or some kind of bush.

I hope the mashed potatoes were to your liking, and that you weren't too upset by the succotash mixing in with your apple cobbler.  

Boondocking in California with the Africanized bees

We saw our first not-really-a-scorpion!  He was under a rock, looking like the tiniest lobster never seen, and we saw him.  Can't wait to see my first hardly-a-rattler.

Really a lizard.  Photos courtesy of Annie.
 Desert iguana.

"I am big.  It's the pictures that got small."

 ... and then I thought lentils, but lentils take too long to cook so then I said "Marge, I'll just make a nice vegetable soup," and she says to me, "Hildy, Arlene is already making a vegetable soup;  can you make that artichoke casserole..." Eldridge, it's like you're not even walking with me!  ... so I said, "Sure, but I like to get the artichokes that are soaked in brine without the citric acid, which they have at Kroger..." Eldridge, okay, that's not funny - where did you go?

Oh good, they're expecting us.

Modern ruins.

So glad to get this out of my shoe.

This has the texture and heft of Fimo.  What are they?  Probably not rocks.

Definitely rocks.

Without me there wouldn't be any Paramount Studios.

We're close enough to a railroad track to hear faint "whoos" every now and then.  Pleasant.  If you look at this area on Google Maps, you can see the blue tint in the ground, and we can see it up close.  Lots of pale blue rocks here, and few vivid blue-green chunks I'm holding above.

AFRICANIZED BEES!!!  MAYBE!

They're definitely bees.  Goldmine bees, which are meaner than junkyard dogs.  You can't see them in this picture.  Excuse me for not getting a close-up, Norma Desmond.  Annie says "Africanized bees" to keep me out of trouble.  Candy aisle?  Africanized bees!  The deep end of the pool has Africanized bees.  Don't touch that knife! - Africanized bees.

Here are some tips about killer bees from the USDA:

• RUN away quickly. Do not stop to help others.
• Continue to RUN.
• Bees are attracted to movement.
• Do not jump into water!
• Do not flail your arms.
• Drop your baklava.  
• Keep RUNNING.
• Never stop running.
• While running and being stung, attempt to bargain with the bees, promising never to eat honey or "royal jelly," whatever that is.
• Do not mention John Belushi.

Prospecting: Eureka!

This article got us all excited and ready to dig geodes!  Yeah!  88° - no problem - we've got water, snacks, a shovel, and a bucket for all the geodes we find!

Things this article left out that you may want to know:

• 88° in full desert sun is kinda hot, no matter what we've told you
• digging in full desert sun is not for the faint of heart
• we're faint of heart

As we were told later, "digging geodes" is not just appreciating their rockin' coolness.  You're supposed to DIG HOLES UP TO YOUR WAIST.  I'm sorry, I'm not signing for that.  Besides that, do you know what else digs holes up to your waist?  Me neither, which is why I'm not doing it.

In case you want to, let me show you where we were first, and then where we were.  The original article gives good directions, but it doesn't tell you that you must have a high-clearance vehicle to get where we were.  The Prius wasn't high-clearance until we hit the first three washes.  Now we can Flintstone almost anywhere.

The truth is that Annie finessed those washed-out roads like a pro.  Now she's shopping for a Jeep.

But, none of this tells you how exquisite the California desert is.  I could have lain there in a scorpion/rattlesnake/tarantula-proof hammock all day.  

   

Annie, c'mon!  I'm kidding!  I'm getting up!  Wait for me!

Ocotillo blooms

Ocotillo feeling rather pleased with itself.

New cactus.  Well, new-to-me;  I can't afford a new new cactus.

When you come to a fork in the road, take it.  

We tried both.  We never made it to either.

Unprecedented BLM humor?

John. 

John owns 80 acres right there in the desert.  [*swoon*]  We met him on the way out when we waved.  He hollered DID YOU FIND ANY GEODES?  Then he waved us into his "yard" to pick out some from big piles.  He had them in all stages.  Raw geodes, geodes sawn in half, sawn and polished geodes, tumbled stones.

Scott.

Scott found us a bucket to gather into.

Pedro and Sadie put up a good show, then plopped down in the shade.  First desert law:  conserve barks.

We chatted for half an hour or so.  John has just lost his wife, and Sadie her mom.  They come in for the winter.  If I owned this place I would stay here from the moment I could until the moment I couldn't.  John says he doesn't like to see people leave 'his' desert with long faces and without geodes, so he took care of both.  Annie had Sadie almost to the car in the bucket when I caught her.

I don't know how much internet connection they get out there, five miles from the nearest maintained road, but if you ever read this, John and Scott, you made our day!