Big Sweet Tooth

*E* is for Expat (Become One)

E is for Expat

In all my travels, no matter how far I go, I always run into at least one American that has uprooted their life from the USA and bolted.  Started over.  Moved to a totally foreign land and become an expat.  Even if it's just for 6 months out of the year.  They are just simply all over the place.

I mean, why would you live in the USA full time when you can live like a champ in the tropics of Indonesia for 1/5 of what you pay to live in some cookie-cutter suburb?   Why drop $15 on lunch every day when you can spend $2 on the best fish tacos you ever had in Baja?  Why drop $500 for a car payment when you can tool around back alleys in Greece on a $500 moped?

I've seen Expats doin' it every which way:  Living on the beach in Baja out of campers and tents, house-sitting in small villages dotting the coast of South Africa, holing up in tiny apartments in Spain overlooking the marina, relaxing on their postage-stamp size terrace on island villages in Greece sipping a cafe and attempting to learn the language, snatching up old villas in colonial Mexican cities and fixing them up, selling all their crapola and on a whim investing in 40' sailboats so they liveaboard and cruise the world.  The options never really end.  Some people just choose to live differently...and I still think one of the coolest places to drop out is down in Baja. 

Most people have only been either to Cabo, Rosarito, or Ensenada, but the very best of Baja can be found down on the magical Sea of Cortez. It's still so remote and untouched and if you are self-sufficient, you can live a rollicking good life for practically nothing.  It's all about the beach, the boats, the snorkeling, the kayaking, the fishing, the beer and the tacos.  Not much else. 

Mulege and Loreto are a couple of cool towns that have some amenities, some quirky expats and some excellent (and cheap) living options.  But, if I had to do it, I'd stay right in Bahia Concepcion in my little trailer...as close to nature as possible.  I'd dive into some intense Spanish classes.  I'd eat fish every single day.  I'd remaster the art of a perfect margarita.  I'd read 'til my eyes crossed.  I'd explore dusty dirt roads that led to nowhere.  I'd snorkel with fishies and kayak from bay to bay, camping out each night. 

When you choose to live a little bit on the untraditional side of life, it's simply an investigation into what you are truly made of.  Why would you not want to challenge that part of your soul?

The Bliss of a Puppy in Baja Named Como Tu~

When I was down in Baja--on the Sea of Cortez side--I met the happiest dog ever, a charming little mutt named "Como Tu."  He was saved from starvation by a friendly Brit named Alejandro who rescued him from way up in the rocks (sadly, people abandon adorable pups all the time), and you've never seen an animal so cheerful with glee.  Sometimes, I feel just like Como Tu must; like this uncontrollable little puppy who bounds through life without a care in the world and just gazes around all wide-eyed and bushy-tailed to see what's coming up next.  There's no stopping to see who's coming, it's just forge ahead all the time...his mindset is like mine...if they matter, they will stop for you!  As I frolicked with CT on the sandy beach, I also noted our other similarities:  He yips loudly, I chatter incessantly.  He sloppy runs, I practically gallop.  He licks everything in sight, I eat everything in sight.  He is at home anywhere, I, too, am at home anywhere.  I sprawled on the scalding hot beach and played with Como Tu for hours (snapping hundreds of photos) and was pretty devastated to leave him....but I could tell he and Alejandro were best of buds and that Alex loved him, too.  Everyone on the beach worshiped him for that matter; a cute dog's life, what a way to live, eh?

If you look closely, you will see Como Tu lording over his master and their temporary palapa domain.  And, that big mountain behind the palapa is where Como Tu was saved from. 

Dusty Roads, No Sleep and a Wild Hankering for Nieve

There was a point on my short-but-amazing Baja trip that I thought I was gonna lose it if I didn't get some ice cream.  I'd been driving for half a day and was just so sleepy that they only thing that'd do was ice cold nieve.  Of course, when you need it most, its nowhere to be found!  I was flying down the freeway when I spotted this little hut on the other side of the street and managed a full 180 in a split second.  I literally ran in and ordered three huge scoops of chilly ice cream and giggled with glee as the chica who ran the joint scooped them out.   I was also watching another gal behind the counter whip up some nachos--by tearing open a bag of tortillas, dumping a few hefty squirts of scalding hot nacho cheese on top and then tossing on some olive green japs.  Straight brilliant!  Anyway, my ice cream fix satisfied, I made it all the way to Ensenada that night and found an adorable hotel called Posada El Rey Sol. Such a charming little motel/boutique hotel with the cutest fella running the reception desk.  The room had been all dolled up, luxury-style and I swear, I went into five hotels in Ensenada before selecting this one.  Loved it!

Cielito Lindo: A Baja Institution (Go for the GIANT crab alone)

Winding down the Mexico trip, I was hightailing it back to the USA border from the Sea of Cortez and I'd promised a Baja-savvy pal of mine that I'd hit up one of his favorite Baja dives, Cielito Lindo in the rambling valley of San Quinten.  This establishment was absolutely worth the five frustrating times I got lost trying to locate it (his directions were a hair off).  Anyway, after hauling up gravel down a narrow road that dropped practically into the Pacific Ocean at Gypsy Beach, I finally spotted the place.  It was the only restaurant there and the dirt surrounding it was jammed of dozens of vehicles.  I loved the ramshackle old-school interior, the utter remoteness of the place, the juicy crab claws (though next time, I'd say skip the paprika and do it up with just butter) and most of all the smoky black bean soup peppered with chunks of bacon.  It was the perfect spot, I just wish I had more time to spend there.  I did, however, have time to meet a saucy/wasted old-timer who lived in the trailer park out back....after giving me the once over, he screamed to the entire bar that I was "stacked like a brick shit-house."  Then he howled with laughter and sheer delight at his own cleverness.  Good Christ.

Santa Rosalia, Baja: Gateway to the Sea of Cortez

The biggest surprise of my Baja trip last weekend was the tiny former mining town of Santa Rosalia.  I've rolled through there every time I've driven down Highway 1 without stopping, but this time, I'd just left the Mulege area in the early AM and was in dire need of some food.  After cruising by the coastal restaurants and checking out the sailboats in the marina, I hightailed into the small village.  What an adorable place. It used to be a mining village and the French were the primary residents.  You can tell it by the colorful clapboard cottages and homes lining the rustic streets.  I found myself litereally in someones outdoor kitchen/cafe ordering up breakfast and Nescafe.  I asked for fried eggs and I got a ham and cheese omelette instead.  Ahh, what do you  do??   When in Mexico....It was nice though, because the master of the kitchen and her first customer of the day (obviously a good friend) really just hung tight, shot the shizz, swatted flies and tried like hell to fend off the 100+ heat.  I like watching.

Playa Santispac, Baja: Back to its Roots

One of my favorite places in all of Baja was Playa Santispac.  I once met a darling kid named Chance there; I adored the fish tacos at Ana's Restaurant; and the beach was beyond compare.  Ahhhh, but I just discovered that all of that good stuff is no more (word is a hotel was going up and the deal fell through, so everyone leaving was all for naught).  All the charming little palapas that rimmed the beach have been torn down and it is now just camping grounds (which is actually a great bonus), but still....I was horrified that Ana's was no longer open.  As soon as I discovered the travesty, I hauled a little further down to Playa El Burro, for some delicious coconut shrimp and frosty margaritas at Bertha's.  I guess in the end, I wasn't that devastated.  Really, I'm just pleased as punch that I didn't buy a palapa there a few years back when I first stumbled onto the place...I was THIS close!  RIP.