I was glad to find I wasn’t hungover since I’d gotten all the alcohol out of my system yesterday afternoon. We woke to the dreariest day yet. Not only was the fog still around, it was so thick that we could feel the thick mist all over our bodies once we got out of the van. Everything was damp, including the bed, it was not at all pleasant. Pretty much everyone had vacated their camps, with only us and a few stragglers remaining to make a weekend of it. We didn’t muck around with breakfast, just packed our shit up so we could get going. Sun was the only thing on our agenda and we intended to find some. Dan did manage to fix the back door while I was having a mini shower so in theory, we wouldn’t have to push me through the back window again.

Before we could head out, a big white van stopped next to us and the occupants started chatting with Dan who was at the back of the car. I understood that they were travellers like us and when Dan called me out of the van to meet them, I did so. They were a pair of Aussies about my age, Charlie and his girlfriend Jazz. They were armed with the “surfer’s guide to the Baja”, apparently n invaluable book since that was the goal of their trip, to surf as much as possible. In talking to them, we discovered that we’d seen them at Puntas Santos Tomas a couple of nights before. When we were camped on the cliff, we’d seen what we thought was a shuttle bus drive to the resort and back out. Turns out it was them and they’d had the same experience with Ismael trying to sell them a beach house. They’d been in Baja a little longer than us and when they’d found out about the race they’d watched from the start-finish line in Ensenada. They wished they’d found a spot like ours but said it was still pretty cool. Charlie really wanted a surfing buddy since he was yet to put his board in the water and was a little uneasy thanks to the scary looking weather. He asked if we were going to surf this morning and we told him no since we’d tried yesterday and found it a bit rocky. In the end, we swapped details and split ways, thinking we’d probably cross paths again since we seemed to have similar plans.

We drove out of Puntas Cabras and Erendira the way we’d come, seeing not much evidence that a huge race had been on the previous day. Everything had returned to normal. We sat in silence on the drive back into San Vicente since we couldn’t find a radio station and the fog had dampened our moods again. When we made it San Vicente, my spirits lifted. The town was absolutely bustling on a Sunday morning, everyone was out to buy their goods and catch up with their local friends. This is the town we’d stopped in to stock up before heading out to the race so we were familiar enough with it. We parked near the markets where we saw a fruit supermarket and made that our first stop. The fruit was beautifully fresh and of course ridiculously cheap. We grabbed four bananas, a ripe pineapple and a mango all for just over 50 Pesos ($2.50). Next stop, Dan was hankering for another round of fish tacos for desayuno (breakfast). We wandered over to our favourite taco stand where we saw a military truck loaded with soldiers in very effective camo (it took me a while to see it after Dan pointed it out). They posed for a photo as they drove away.

We got to the taco stand just as a big tour bus arrived. Dan thought he got his order in on time, but he’d just been jumped by the bus operators. While he was waiting, I walked over to the nearby stall that was selling cocos (coconuts). I successfully asked for one in Spanish, then resorted to hand signals to explain that I wanted the top cut off and a straw put in the top so that we could drink the milk before eating the coconut. The man happily pulled out a huge machete to nick the top of the nut. Dan joined me just as the man cracked it open, having given up on waiting for his tacos. After we paid our 60 Pesos ($3) and started walking away, he indicated that we should stay and drink so that he could cut the coconut open after we were done. Dan tried to say that he could pull it open with his fingers, but the man laughed so we stood and sipped away. When we were done, the man took up his machete and cut the nut clean in half, then scooped the soft coconut out of the shell, cut it in pieces and put it back in the shell for us to eat. What a wonderful coconut eating experience.

We picked at the coconut as we crossed the road yet again to find a competitor’s taco stand. The first one we came to was not serving fish, but pork instead. They had a huge metal barrel by the stand with the remnants of a fire underneath where they’d obviously spent the morning cooking the meat for the day’s sales. It smelt amazing. Dos tacos por favor (two tacos please)! The young girl serving customers took our order and we managed to understand the price by looking at the price list written in an exercise book on the counter. A few moments later, we had a couple of tacos in our hands. This pork was to die for. I don’t think they’d added any sauce, but it was moist from its own juices, shredded so fine that it melted in our mouths. A bit unorthodox for breakfast, but when in Mexico!

On the street leading away from the highway by the taco stand, we found a local’s market. They were selling all the usual wares that people would find useful like clothes and tools and food. It was nice to wander the street without being bothered to buy something. Instead, we got friendly “Buenos dias” (good morning) and weird looks as if we were a pair of lost gringos. One more stop at the Oxxo convenience store to stock up and we were on our way. Come on sunshine! I really liked San Vicente, especially on a Sunday morning when everyone is out and about, I’m looking forward to stopping here again on our way back north.

We wanted to get some miles in today. After coming to Baja without many plans, everyone we’d met on the road who asked, we were telling that our destination was Cabo San Lucas, right at the southern tip of the peninsula. Having said it so much, it had actually become our goal, so we wanted to get going.

Dan took the wheel and we were on the highway. Outside of the towns, we were amongst vineyards and crops. Each town we came across had the same layout. The main road was surrounded by a wide expanse of dirt road where cars were parked in all sorts of arrays. Beyond the surrounding dirt, were all sorts of shops and stalls. Being a Sunday, everyone was out and about and for some reason, every telephone store had a line out the front. Maybe Mexico had just gotten the new iPhone 7?

In each town, the highway turned abruptly into a minefield of obstacles, the most common of which are camouflaged speed humps with absolutely no hint or warning that they are coming. In some cases, there are multiple rumble strips leading up to a big speed bump, followed by metal domes planted in the road. I guess they really want you to slow down. I’m sure they tried speed signs and found they didn’t work. In some towns, charity workers would stand in the middle of the narrow road shaking tins to collect money for the local ambulance service. Not exactly the safest conduct, but hey, people were slowing down for the speed bumps so it was a perfect opportunity. We gave a few pesos at each one, thinking later that it was entirely likely that the workers had painted an Astro van in ambulance colours with the aim of making a quick buck.

Still no sun as we head south. We stopped at another Oxxo since we’d forgotten to buy water. When I used El Bańo (the bathroom), I was already done when I discovered there was no toilet paper. Bugger. There was a dry napkin in the bin so I made do with that. When the toilet didn’t flush, I fiddled with the lever before trying the tap at the wall. Nada (nothing). There was no water in the sink either. Hmmm. I met Dan outside and I advised him of the toilet’s problems before he used it. He at least managed to score some toilet paper from the employees.

After driving for an hour or so, we were on a section of highway that was within view of the beach and we needed a break from the driving so decided we’d stop to see if we could have a surf. Dan took an arbitrary dirt road leading to the coast. It took us right by another deserted-looking community with not a single person in sight. We were somewhere just south of El Socorrito. At the top of the cliff, we were excited to see surfable breaks, perfect for the long board and a noob like me. After trying a few different ways to get down to the beach without suffering a drop off the cliffs, we had our feet on the big rocks that formed the beach. I was excited to get in the water so I was straight back to the car to get my wetsuit on. I even got the board off the roof, mostly by myself. I gave the board a good waxing and was off down to the waves, leaving Dan to follow with the fishing pole and the perro (dog).

The rocks were rough on my feet, so it was nice to get paddling on the board. There were multiple small breaks so it was hard work getting out into a calm spot, but once I was there I took a good rest before attempting my first wave. It was hard work here and it took me a few goes before I scored a decent wave. I rode it for a good few seconds than endured the paddle back out. There wasn’t really a middle break so I was forced to get right back out past the last break. I caught a few more waves, riding them a little longer each time, even managing to surf down the line for a little bit! Exhausted, I came in to swap out with Dan. I struggled to make landfall thanks to the hard rocks and incessant waves, but after a few knocks from the board I was walking on sand. Dan suited up and head out after trying to encourage Cleo to stay on the beach. She’d run away to the car again, scared of the waves. I had to sit with her to stop her pussying out but eventually I took her up to the car with the intention of getting the leash. When I realised the car was locked, I fashioned a leash out of the surfboard straps so at least she could stay on the beach without being babied. Honestly, what a sook.

Dan caught a few good waves, riding them out for a long time before he too was exhausted by the waves. I went out for one last spin, catching a couple but doing so on my knees since I didn’t have the power to push up to my feet anymore. Satisfied with our session, I got pummelled by the board again as I tried to head in and we went back to the car. We enjoyed a hot shower and hung the wetsuits from the back door and were off again. What a perfect way to break up the driving!

We stopped in El Rosario to fill up at the last petrol station for 360 km and were happy to find we could use a debit card to pay. I’d tried two cards in an ATM already and had no luck so it looked like we might have to make do with the cash we had and use our cards for the big ticket items. Beyond El Rosario we were driving through the desert. More and more cacti started lining the road and finally, finally, we were in the sun again! We both felt like we were in Arizona. The only give away that we were in a different country was the narrow road with no shoulder and the funny looking cactus that stood tall and skinny with a small layer of fluff around its trunks. Dan took the curves of the road like a pro, meaning that everything in the back of the car soon became a big mess. We’d need to reorganise when we got to camp, I just hoped nothing broke.

As we drove, I used Debbie’s phrase book to translate each of the signs we drove past. Learning words like camione (truck), desviacion (detour), precaucion (caution) and curvas peligrosas (dangerous bends). After I learnt the word for truck, I shouted “Hola, Camione!” waving enthusiastically at a truck that went by. We were both excited when he waved back. New game! We waved at every truck that went by, getting a 100% strike rate of waves. When we came across a yellow truck, he was the first that gave us no love. When another wave hit, yet another yellow truck didn’t wave and a white one. We don’t like those.

There were a number of towns marked on the map and they all looked similar when we drove through. Most were marked with a sign reading “Town in 1km”. In some cases, we’d see such a sign and wondered 5 km later what the town had looked like. In others, there was some infrastructure that resembled a community, but in every case, they looked like ghost towns with buildings half falling down, graffiti on the walls and windows without glass in them. The best town we hit had multiple gas vendors which was no more than a stand by the road with a table covered with jerry cans. I suppose they must get some tourists who forgot to fill up in El Rosario.

In San Jose, we stopped for a bathroom break and swapped drivers. As soon as I was behind the wheel, we stopped playing the truck game. In my first kilometre of driving, I was faced with a truck (yellow in colour) coming right at me in the middle of the road. I braked hard, not having anywhere to go unless I wanted to go down the steep embankment to my right. Shit! This guy was literally coming right at us. Eventually, when I’d almost slowed to a stop, he pulled back into his lane, calm as anything. Turns out he was just avoiding potholes. We experienced more and more of this behaviour as we continued our route south. We could hardly understand what these guys were trying to avoid, they seemed like pitiful potholes when put up against their multitude of big tyres.

Apart from the kamikaze trucks, driving through a sudden array of bugs and slowing down to avoid a coyote, the drive was normal. The scenery kept changing, transforming from fields of the weird cactus, to fields of the familiar saguaro cactus with big, thick green trunks, then we were amongst huge piles of pale boulders. As we drove past, we contemplated how they could have possibly gotten there.

I drove for about an hour until we reached our destination, a lake that we’d picked out on a map, since we always like camping near a water source, or the ocean. Laguna de Chapala was dry as a bone, just as we suspected, but it was 6pm and we were ready to stop anyway. I took a dirt road off to the left of the highway and we rattled our way along it until we came to a collection of trees that looked like it would suit us just fine. Turns out it was a perfect spot. Being away from the ocean and under the sun, it was hot and so the trees offered nice shade. Not only that, there were foundations that we could explore.

It looked like it used to be a water station for cattle because of the four massive pilons near a water trough. By these two things was a small pit. As I walked towards it, I realised it was nothing of the sort but a massive, deep well. I couldn’t even see the bottom of the thing! When Dan came up to me and saw it too, he immediately put Cleo on the leash, not trusting her to be anywhere near such a big hole in the ground. I continued looking down the well and saw a bright white face looking up at me. I called out to Dan to come and see the owl that had a nest down in the well. She hopped from one side of the well to the other, climbing out, all in complete silence and looking up after every jump. She eventually came out of the well, spread her wings and flew away. What a gorgeous creature, she was completely white with brown specks on her body, which was small compared to the size of her wings. Every movement she made was silent and serene. Wanting to know the depth of the well, we started throwing rocks down into it, hearing a decent thud every time something hit the bottom. No water down there, hopefully no bodies either.

While Dan went to the bathroom, I went off into the desert scrub on a hunt for firewood and managed to come back with an armful of small stuff. Dan was suitably impressed and we were both keen to have our first Baja fire. We wandered off across the road and towards the new road that was in the middle of construction. It was a bounty for more firewood. Standing on the top of the new road, I felt like we could have been the only people left on earth. There wasn’t a single soul around, but evidence of humans everywhere with rubbish abounds.

After working on a big piece of timber lodged between two of the bridge’s pilons, we settled for the collection of wood we found around the construction site and carried them back to camp. Now we were set for a nice evening by the fire. Beers opened, chairs out, we sat to admire our first Baja sunset. Every sunset before had been shrouded in cloud. The sunset was a long one, turning the sky beautiful colours. When it neared its end, Dan got going on our fire. It was the first one I’d seen him light without using lighter fluid. I was very impressed. After a couple of attempts, she was roaring and we were back to our usual habits of chatting by the fire.

Since it was now dark, we could do the experiment Dan had been planning since getting to camp. He wanted to light something on fire and drop it down the well. We stuffed a beer box full of kindling, carried it over to the well and after a bit of preparation making sure it was lit enough to survive the drop, Dan pushed it over the edge. It was perfect. The flaming box made a perfect ring of light on the walls of the well as it fell, it a bright red colour, lighting its path all the way down to the bottom of the well. When the box hit ground, we could see the well was completely dry and surprisingly empty of any bodies.

Back at the fire, when it came time to eat, we contemplated a simple cereal dinner or cooking up some rice, but neither of us were very hungry until I suggested pollo y queso (chicken and cheese) toasted quesadillas. Quick, easy dinner with minimal cleanup. I cooked it up, we threw the last bits of wood on the fire and we were happy campers. Cleo was already in bed, exhausted from a day of trauma by the beach and stress on the tough roads. Once the fire burned down, we happily joined her, happy to be looking up at the stars again.