with Ann Hazard
Why I Love Baja!
My first "big trip" to Baja took place when I was eight and my sister, Nina had just turned seven. It was spring break, 1960. We drove with my parents to the Tijuana Airport and boarded a DC-6 bound for La Paz on Aeronaves de Mexico (now known as Aeromexico). Two or so hours later we landed in a tiny airport pretty much out in the middle of nowhere. As we got off the plane, my dad grabbed both Nina's and my hands and pulled us over to this really tall gringo in a cowboy hat. There was a circle of people around him. He and my dad had words, he crouched down and reached for both of us just as my father whipped out his camera. Nina jumped onto his knee; I held back and stayed next to my dad.
Ann Hazard
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That was John Wayne, by the way. Nina had her picture taken with in the La Paz Airport and our whole week was as magical as that moment. We stayed at the Los Cocos Hotel right on the bay. Every morning we went out sport fishing. Every day we anchored off a different beach. Our mom taught us to snorkel and we explored the warm, aquamarine waters that were teeming with brightly colored tropical fish. We hunted for shells and picnicked on the sand. Nina and I ate tacos for breakfast every morning (we still do whenever possible) and every single piece of clothing we tossed onto the floor of our hotel room was washed, ironed and folded when we returned after our daily adventures. I met a girl my age from Mexico City on this trip named Frances Cuvi and over the years we visited each other several times, staying in each other's homes, going to each other's schools and exploring each other's lives.
That, mis amigos, was a little jaunt down Memory Lane for you. My Baja roots go way back. In fact, I'm a third generation Baja Aficionada. My grandpa, Pappy Hazard, traveled Baja from the 1930s on, going along on a few of Erle Stanley Gardner's journeys. In case you don't know who Mr. Gardner is—he was the creator of the Perry Mason Series. He was also a serious, innovative Baja Lover who explored the peninsula by truck, homemade ATV, helicopter, airplane and even a blimp. He wrote several entertaining books about his escapades that you can find in the public libraries. My dad started going on fishing and hunting expeditions to Baja when he was about eight. This was back in the days when it took all day to get from Tijuana to Ensenada on a windy little dirt road. The only access to Punta Banda, where my grandpa had a fishing shack was a road that could only be negotiated at low tide—otherwise it was under water! A far cry from the easy two hour drive these days....
My family camped on deserted beaches in northern Baja when I was a kid. We flew with renowned Baja pilot Francisco Muñoz into remote places like Bahía de Los Angeles and Mulegé—places that were unreachable except by air and dirt road until Mex 1 was paved in late 1973. Both of my kids have been coming to Baja since they were in my belly. I've shared a house in La Bufadora with Nina for the past six years and have traveled the entire peninsula two and a half times (once only as far as Bahía Concepción) in the last two years.
So I guess it's obvious that I've always loved Baja. Why, you ask? Well, first of all, it's the last outback left in our corner of the world. It's a place where my children have run free since they were little—able to hike, kayak, swim, snorkel, ride horses, explore beaches, tide pools and bargain for goodies in the local shops. I've always felt more at home in Baja than in my own hometown. I love the endless empty hills, sunny skies and see-through turquoise water. I love the food, the foot-stomping music, the fiestas, and of course the Mexican people with their easy-going, friendly, everybody-helps-everybody-else attitude.
Let me tell you a couple of secrets about Mexicans. They believe life is to be enjoyed, that integrity is paramount and that God and family are more important than money. Theirs may be considered a third world country, but guess what? They don't think they're deprived. Raise the hood of any ancient Baja troque (truck) and you will instantly appreciate Mexican ingenuity. These folks are more resourceful than you could ever imagine. They've raised recycling to an art form. And—they will use even the lamest of excuses to throw a fiesta. From gray-haired grannies to Pampers-clad toddlers, everyone gets into the spirit of revelry. Food abounds, cerveza and tequila flow and Mariachis play. Ah yes....
My kids, boyfriend and I just spent 18 days in Baja over the holidays. There are two incidents from this trip that I want to share with you. The first took place in Ciudad Constitución, over 800 miles south of the border.
This is not a tourist town—it's an agricultural and commercial center—and an excellent place for vehicle repairs. We pulled into town for gas on our way south in a 1983 motor home with four bald, unevenly wearing tires on the rear. At a llantera (used tire store) where we stopped, there were no tires to fit our rig. I was told that we could make it to La Paz (122 miles away) if we went really slow. Not good news. I asked where we could buy new tires and was directed to the Good Year Tire Store on the main drag. The guy there told me (yes, I speak Spanish, which helps a lot!) this about our rear duals, while shaking his head: "¡No sirve por nada!"—meaning they were good for nothing! For 3,400 pesos we got four new tires, mounted and balanced within an hour! Afer grabbing a quick lunch, we were on our way south.
Ten days later, on New Year's Eve 2000, we were in Guerrero Negro, another non-touristy town that's home to the largest salt works plant in the world. We spent the morning on Laguna Ojo de Liebre cruising in a panga with gray whales. For 45 minutes our boat followed a mama and newborn calf as we all watched the baby gradually gain strength and learn to swim on his own. At first he could barely hold his head above water and was forced to lay sideways across his mom's back while she held him up so he could breathe. By the time the pair pulled away from another approaching panga, the baby was able to swim freely alongside his mother. The rapture on my kids' faces as they sat in the front of the panga is something I will never, ever forget....
In the evening we had a sumptuous buffet dinner at Mario's Palapa and then high tailed it into the center of town for the fireworks celebration. Let me tell you, amigos—there is no other way to describe this extravaganza than to tell you it had to be the most astonishing show put on anywhere in the world. It lasted for 75 minutes, there were two towers of pinwheels, two and three stories high and there were six mini-finales before the "grand finale." My kids sat on a wall, surrounded by Mexican children, snapping photos as fast as they could. Our group of 23 was the only group of gringos around for this celebration put on by ESSA, the salt operation jointly owned by the Mexican Government and Mitsubishi. Later, we went onto a fiesta at the Fundadora where we were also the only group of gringos. It didn't matter. When midnight struck, everyone in sight hugged me or shook my hand, wishing me a "Happy New Year" or a "Feliz Año." It didn't even matter that I was in jeans (think camping trip) and they were in formal attire.
Yes. I love Baja. And I never forget what my dad told me repeatedly when I was growing up: "You are a guest in a foreign country. Be friendly and treat the people with respect. They will treat you accordingly. Behave at least as well as you would at home." I've added a couple pieces of advice here of my own: "Get Mexican car insurance. If you travel more than 10 or 11 days a year in Baja, it's cheaper to get an annual policy than a daily one. Don't drive at night if you can help it. Do stop to help stranded motorists. You never know when you may need the road karma yourself. If a big rig in front of you on the highway turns on his left blinker, it means it's safe to pass. If you're driving a motor home, use the same courtesy to those behind you, as the road south of Ensenada is two-lane until you get to San Jose del Cabo. If you want to buy a home down south, as we have, research the title. And, last but not least—do not buy into the negative propaganda you hear in the gringo newspapers. It reeks of cultural misunderstanding. Use your head. Relax, smile, open up your senses. Remember my grandpa and John Wayne. Be a little bit of a cowboy or cowgirl! Pretty soon you'll be one of us—having been injected with a lasting dose of Baja Magic!
Ann Hazard is the author of Cooking With Baja Magic ($21.95), a cookbook which showcases 175 recipes collected and created during her family's four generations of Baja travels along with wildly colorful artwork by Laguna Beach artist Bob Bonn. Her newest book, Cartwheels in the Sand ($14.95), is a "City Slickers" for women — a novel and Baja California guidebook in one. Ann lives in San Diego, CA with her two children. Call Renegade Enterprises at 760/944-6711 to order these books, visit her website at BajaMagic.com or email her at CookBaja@aol.com