Our first blissful sleep in a while and our first city camp, we woke up late. Dan wasn’t happy, he’d been bitten all through the night by something or other and had bites all down his legs. He was pissed they’d only attacked him and not me. There was nothing we could see to tell us what it had been but the bites were numerous and itchy as hell.

We had a few errands to run this morning before heading out to Pichilingue to check out the ferry over to the mainland. At the top of the list was laundry. I was down to my last bits of underwear and after two weeks of Cleo messing up the bed, it was time for a change of sheets too. The short drive over to the Laundromat we’d spotted yesterday was anything but smooth. Thanks to the many one way streets in La Paz, we turned down a couple of wrong streets, pissing off the locals, and had to do two rounds of the block by the Laundromat before we could coordinate a park. Breathing a sigh of relief, we gathered up our clothes and walked across the road to the Laundromat. The lady there didn’t speak a lick of English, but she had a nice setup with a half dozen washing machines and a few dryers. She was a busy lady and we had to wait for a couple of loads to finish before we could put ours on. I dumped the clothes into two machines and she told us it would be half and hour until they were ready. After Dan took advantage of the bathroom, we went next door to the convenice store to buy yet more tortillas (thanks Cleo) so we could make burritos for breakfast.

Dan cooked while I did a bit of Baja reading. Of the avocado, steak, eggs, tomatoes, onions and cheese that went into the wrap, the avocado made the meal. It was bloody delicious and Dan made enough for us to have one and a half burritos each. I was in food heaven.

I went back across the road to check on the status of our clothes and found that we were in line for the dryer. I managed to communicate with the lady enough that she could put the clothes in the dryer for us and we’d come back in an hour to pick them up. We were going to go on a churro chase, but instead, we just head for the beach, walking to the promenade and finding ourselves a free tiki hut to chill out under. It was what the doctor ordered to cure Dan’s pissy mood. The sand was soft and there was enough goings on to entertain us as we sat in the cool of the shade. It was amazing how effective a small patch of shade was as relief from the early morning heat.

An hour later, we returned to the Laundromat where we found our clothes and sheets folded neatly into a pile. All that cost us 150 Pesos ($7.50) which wasn’t really cheap for laundry, but the use of the bathroom and the folding service made it worth it. Once we got the clothes back to the car, Dan was thinking maybe we hadn’t got all of it because folded up it seemed so little, so we put everything away to make sure. Nothing was missing, just goes to show how much room you save by folding.

We gave the churro chase another thought, but after we’d visited the convenience store for a coke for Dan and I got me a Magnum ice cream, there was no need, we just went back to the beach. When Dan took a bite of my ice cream sending a big piece of chocolate coating to the ground, he and some of the locals around me balked as I picked it up off the sidewalk and ate it. I guess I really am a dirtbag. In my defense, it was half the bloody ice cream so I wasn’t going to leave it on the floor!

Back under our tiki hut, all three of us made ourselves comfortable and fell asleep on the sand. We must have slept for at least an hour, both of us woken up by the sun heating up our feet. We wiped the sand off our faces, brushed ourselves off and immediately went in search of fish tacos. It was around 2pm and we were hungry after all the activities of the day. We started by navigating towards the taco stand recommended by the moon book, though it suggested the place would shut mid-afternoon. I drove ourselves over there and to our joy, it was open! I parked and we enquired at the stand. Yes they were open, but they didn’t have any pescado. We’d compromised before but we weren’t in the mood today, we wanted battered and fried fish inside a tortilla and that was that.

Forty minutes and four taco stands later, we drove into Mr. Fish. It was five minutes before 3pm and they literally closed the gates behind us, we were their last customers and they had pescado tacos! We got ourselves a couple of sodas and filled our tortillas with toppings per usual. They were the right price at 20 Pesos and exactly what we needed. When they had ice to go in our drinks, we were made even more happy. As we left, the owner tried to explain something, eventually taking our empty plastic cups from my hand. He returned from the kitchen a while later with the cups filled with a sweet fruity drink to send us on our way. It was a really nice gesture and the drink was refreshing.

Right, now for churros. This one looked promising according to Google maps with a picture of the place and everything. We allowed ourselves to get a little excited. The building was indeed there when we pulled into the street, but it was soon obvious that everything was closed. Bugger! Alright, stuff it, we were leaving La Paz. We drove on out to Pichilingue. It was only thirty minutes and it was a beautiful drive along the coast. The small bundles of resorts and huts sitting on the various beaches looked abandoned per usual, waiting for the tourist season to pick up.

At the ferry terminal, we saw the big boat and knew we were in the right place. We couldn’t see any signs for “Baja Ferries” but after a quick conversation with a security guard at the gate, we were pointed in the right direction, parked the car and walked into an airconditioned room. There as absolutely nothing going on, probably because the ferry had already left for the day. There was nothing going on at the Baja Ferries office either. Everything was closed up. Dan managed to find someone and find out that the office would open again at 8am, so we had the afternoon and night to explore before coming back the next day.

We head further up the La Paz bay to Playa Balandra. Another short drive to the most popular of the beaches in the La Paz area. That was obvious as soon as we got there. Everything between the ferry office and the beach was deserted, though we did manage to top up our shower water at an empty restaurant. We were going on at least five days without a proper wash and were starting to feel it.

When we came into Playa Balandra, we found plenty of people already enjoying the white sands and turquoise water. The carpark was pretty much full, but there was a choice spot for us on the beach side where we could open out back doors to the water. It was bloody hot, all we wanted to do was get into the water. While I got changed, Dan and Cleo went into the sea, doing another round of training to encourage Cleo to get into the water on her own. By the time I joined them, she was walking slowly in the shallow water, half swimming. She was the only dog around and caught the attention of most people lazing about on the beach.

Every tiki hut was occupied and most of the temporary umbrella set ups which you had to pay for were being enjoyed as well. This was a popular spot. The water was blissfully cool but not too cold in typical east-Baja fashion. Since there were absolutely no waves in the big shallow bay, Cleo didn’t seem to mind the water. As I entered the water I heard a familiar accent when I walked by a bunch of kiwis. It was almost like getting a taste of home. When I joined Dan I joked that they were the ones that owned the only other camper in the park, a dilapidated old RV.

Once Cleo was done, Dan tied her to the car as I walked out into the shallow bay. I went a bloody long way, never getting deeper than my hips, but I turned around when I saw a stingray, scared to go any further solo. In hindsight I don’t think it was anything more than a cloud of sand under water, but it scared the shit out of me regardless. We talked about swimming across the bay to get to the isolated white sand beach on the other side, but we felt bad about leaving Cleo. What if we put her on the surfboard? Plan made. We returned to the car, got Cleo, got the board and packed a few beers into a small cooler bag.

We got some weird looks and comments as we carried the surf board down to the beach, but I think people caught on when they saw us coaxing Cleo onto the board. It took a couple of tries, but eventually she submitted to the idea and settled herself down in the middle of the board. She didn’t look comfortable in the slightest, but she’d resigned herself to the adventure. Slowly but surely, we walked our way out into the bay. Kayakers and SUP boarders were among us, all pointing in awe at a pitbull on a surfboard.

Once we reached the halfway point, there was a dark patch of water that meant a deep section and we thought we’d have to turn back. We didn’t feel confident enough in Cleo’s stability to swim beside the board, thinking we woulnd’t be able to get her back on if she came off. I went ahead to test the depth and after only about thirty meters of being up to my armpits, I was back to waist deep. We didn’t have to swim anywhere, we could walk the whole way across the 500m bay. Cleo still seemed happy so we carried on towards the opposite shore.

Cleo’s fear faded into excitement as we neared land again, she was chomping at the bit to dismount and did so as soon as the fin of the board touched the sand. We’d made it! We looked back at where we’d come from at all the tourists that hadn’t thought to travel so far without renting a piece of gear to get here. The colourful umbrellas and kayaks sitting on the opposite beach were a stark contrast to the isolation of what we coined Crab Beach.

We sat in the shade and cracked our beers while Cleo chased lizards in the dunes that had probably never been chased before. The name Crab Beach came from the crabs we noticed in the shallow water. It started with a big one-armed guy with beautiful bright blue colours on his one attack arm. Dan immediately started fucking with it, trying to coax it into a fight with a leaf. Mr. crab was right into it, raising his one pincer arm in protest, willing to take on anyone, no matter what their size.We both screamed like girls when he lunged in for an attack and decided he best be left alone to fight someone more his size.

After that, we saw crab after crab, all different sizes and colours, I even saw a massive fish swimming not far from dry land. We spent a good hour just hanging out at our private beach, watching the small waves lap at the shore and the craziness only a few hundred meters away. As the shadows grew longer, we thought it best to head back before the water felt too cold. Cleo was happier to get on the board this time having experienced the trauma once. No shaking or fussing, she sat in the middle of the board like a princess while us two suckers pushed her along. Talk about royal treatment.

When we got within sight of the beach, Dan noticed someone standing by our car and worried himself and me a bit. When we got closer, we saw that it wasn’t a person, but the driver’s door, wide open. Shit. We went through what we’d done before getting out into the water and ended up thinking that we’d probably left it open. After all, why would a thief leave the door open after stealing the loot? We tried not to worry ourselves too much and when we made it back to the car, we found nothing missing, happy that we’d gotten away with a stupid mistake.

Back at the beach, Cleo made more impressions on the crowd when I gave the board a big push to get to shore. She had tremendously good balance, essentially surfing her way in to shore and straight into the arms of a girl that was sitting under a tiki hut.

As we got our chairs out preparing to make camp for the night, we found out that it was the kiwis that belonged to the old RV. We got talking to them when they walked by and figured we’d be spending the rest of the night with them since they were camping as well.

I got dinner going which involved a lot of chopping since we were making fried rice with steak. I cut up a heap of ingredients before Dan took over cooking since he’s a much better hand at cooking meat than I am. It was a great way to make dinner between two people, one person doing the prep, the other finishing everything off. We cracked a bottle of red wine we’d bought and poured it into a couple of plastic cups and as Dan finished off dinner, I wandered over to the Kiwi’s RV to have a chat. They were getting firewood ready for cooking with and getting dressed for a cool night after a warm day. We chatted away easily, finding out we’d all been at Coachella the same weekend, the festival serving as the start of their trip. They all got on pretty well, as you’d expect if you had four dudes living in an RV together for a long period of time.

When Dan joined us, they had their fire going and Dan handed me a plate of steak fried rice goodness. It went down super well with the wine and we were happy. The boys took forever to cook a few steaks, using the coals of a fire in a neat little tray, but it was painful to watch how long it took. The conversation kept going as the sun went down and the wind picked up. When Cleo had had enough, I put her to bed and got my jumper out.

Bottle of wine finished, not longer after I’d grabbed my jumper, the wind picked up something fierce and blew sand around. That meant the sand flies that had been plaguing us were no longer a problem, but the wind was intolerable. We made it an early night, unable to sit outside anymore. We’d planned on sleeping with the doors open but it wasn’t possible with the harsh wind so we shut up shop, playing a round of cars before going to bed. Dan won this game by far, absolutely killing me with four perfect cards in one round.