Tijuana Gringo |
Michael Thomas |
Saturnight, 30 Diciembre 2000. |
Here I am at the center of the magic peninsula, scribbling in my little hotel room. Well, it's not so little and costs twice what I paid last night in Santa Rosalia, so it better be nicer. The ride here from Santa Rosalia was very pleasant. Good experience to be in the company of two such traveling friends as are Fred and Ben. And Joe rounds out the group -- they brought him back here from the Loreto airport and all got a big room up on the hill.
I'm very lucky to have met them, even if I never see them again, well... *sigh* so long as these lines live on, this gives life to thee, etc. William S. Oh shut up, Michael.
It's really after midnight and I'm a little drunk and this should be called tomorrow the 31st, but I don't care, as far as I'm concerned it's still last night yesterday tonight the 30th right now.
There was a wedding here today and tonight. I didn't go, but all the locals were talking about it. In Spanish, of course. I didn't hear anything in English about any wedding, but every local was talking in Spanish about it. The ceremony must have been over at the mission across the river, for around sunset when I went walking over there, I looked into the mission and it was completely empty, but all dressed up with lovely flowers and ribbons and such.... There is a splendid rock behind the mission which you can climb up on and get a view of the valley and the stream and its lagoons and all the palm trees and and and... damn this place is pretty!
By the time I got back into town the music had begun at the social salon upstairs in a building that takes up much of a block or so north of the little plaza. I came back from my walk across the river to the mission and met up with Fred and Ben and Joe. They said they wanted tacos. I had already spent some time chatting in Spanish with a young woman selling time share luxury palm huts (hee hee) and we went down the street to ask her where the best tacos in town are, and... she said... "You know where the highway is....?"
So we all four walked up and out to the Y-intersection on the transpeninsular highway, and well, those tacos were pretty damn good. People standing around just eating eating eating....
Later, Fred and Ben and Joe made killer margaritas in their hotel room before we went out for tacos. MMMMmmmmmm. Their place is at Las Terrazas, up on the hill. Gorgeous view across the rooftops of this beautiful little town. After I finish these notes I'll be heading back to visit with them and we'll sit up until four o'clock on the hotel terrace smoking and drinking and talking and admiring the town beside a little campfire that a camping family from Oregon has made in a automobile wheel-frame....
The really wonderful thing about Mulegé is that in spite of all the damn tourists, the town is really, Really LOCAL. The Mexican presence is overwhelming -- and all the little houses around town are full of real Mexicans, living real lives. I'm in hog heaven, so many people to talk to. Learning a lot.