The minute I cross the border, something in my brain shuts down.
I zoom west along the toll road, bypassing Tijuana altogether, and head toward my humble little beach house just north of Rosarito. The road veers south to the toll booth, and a vast view of the ocean opens up. It is here where I take a deep breath and let my shoulders sink into surrender. The beauty of the wide open sea as far as one can see is more than just a moment for me. It's a transition: a smile slides across my face, one eyebrow arches, my mouth waters for juicy green limes and smoky corn tortillas filled with feta, sweet jalapenos and mole. Ah, yes, I'm not quite there yet, but I can already taste it.
This is my Baja. And, I love it. All of it. The sweet, earthy smell of something always burning. The colors of bright pink and turquoise; red, green and gold. The dust lined streets with various arrows always pointing in the wrong direction. The people, the food, the music....even the wild packs of dogs that roam the streets looking for food, yet never seem vicious or aggressive. This is the world of Baja, and I hope you'll enjoy my musing about my travels down there.