Thursday, February 11
Today we bid goodbye to Rancho Meling. It's a good thing. Notwithstanding the plaque over the dining hall door, I think the calories are adding up. We bid goodbye to our host, and then the the staff. Sulie gives me and G each a jar of apple butter. Yummy stuff.
Goodbyes done, we pack up, power up the steep, dirt driveway, and turn left for San Telmo and Highway 1. The sky is a cloudless blue. We proceed without incident to the highway, and south toward San Quintin and El Rosario. The big washout on Highway 1, caused by the storms the week before we left home, is still a wonder. We've seen many smaller ones, all witness to the power of water over things manmade. The washout north of San Quintin has taken a bridge and a lot more. It is awe-inspiring. We drive around the construction on a temporary road, and feel thankful that we missed the big flood.
This area has changed a great deal since we were last here. San Quintin, that which we remembered as a sleepy beach resort, is a happening town on the highway. North of here are miles and miles of strawberry fields, and other crops under greenhouse plastic. Everywhere there are internet cafes, although taquerias and loncherias are still more numerous.
We arrive at our hotel in El Rosario shortly after noon. They're not quite ready for us, so we proceed to the local, famous restaurant, Espinosa's, for lunch. We do enjoy lunch -- fish soup for me -- and go back to check in. D decides he needs a nap. Our rooms at the hotel, the Baja Cactus, are really quite lovely. Ours is on the second floor, and features satellite TV, a huge fourposter bead, tile floors and a lovely tiled shower, and plenty of lights. All this for $29.
The rest of us explore the town, looking for a recommended breakfast spot, then a museum. The museum is closed, so we head for the beach. It's a longer trip than any of us had imagined. We follow the rutted dirt road through the houses, and then up and down over ridges and past trash dumps and through washes. Finally we crest a rise and see the ocean below us. From here, the navigation is easy.
We park behind the tide line, and walk through soft sand toward the beach. Everywhere there are tire tracks -- trucks, ATVs, dirt bikes. The recent storm has deposited piles and piles of driftwood above the high tide line. But it's not just driftwood. Everywhere there are plastic bottles of every size, shape, color. It's abhorrent. Here is the reason for requiring deposit on every plastic container. It's a very nice beach, but if this is waiting above the tide line, who wants to come here?
B and I take a short walk on the beach, but the prospect, however grand, is spoiled by the thought of all that plastic among the driftwood.
We return to town, park, and stroll around the corner to the market. B and I buy more bottled water.. G buys a Spanish-language newspaper. We retire to ur rooms for a preprandial rest. I spend my time catching up on blog postings. Although I have written the posts, I have been internet-deprived. Even here, where the hotel promises wireless, I am tethered to a 2 foot cord in a wall socket. But I'm happy to have even that.
We meet later for a little wine, take ourselves out for a light dinner, and are early to bed. We have more than 300 miles to travel tomorrow, so are looking for an early start.
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