Butterflies and plenty of them

Never tried buttering a fly myself but in Mexico everyone must be at it as there's millions of butterflies. Most famous is the Monarch but alas I wasn't there for the Monarch season. Even so, there's a ton of these delightful creatures in various shapes and sizes. A lot end up adorning the grills of cars, which is more pretty than the usual bug-squash I suppose.

A traditional 'gang' of butterflies, probably planning their next vicious crime.

This one is massive. That's Joe's hand in the pic and he's 7ft 2in with hands like shovels. Well, not quite but it was a big moth type thing. I saw small boys saddling them and flying them around the neighbourhood.

Here's a couple of other snaps, just because I'm having trouble free photo uploading just now, so why not?

Mel.........VILLE!

Does the fact that I can't find Herman Melville's Moby Dick in any second hand book shops mean it's very popular or not popular at all?

"Buy it new you cheap skate!" I hear you cry. That's all very well, but it seems the biggest bulk I am carrying around the globe is books and I'm trying to trade them rather than add to the burden. I'll keep looking.

In the mean time, here's a picture of Old Gregg, he's pretty close to Moby Dick, so he says.

Bovine Ikea opens in Mexico

Cows go mad!

Opening proves to be massive disappointment. Cows trudge home wearily.

Margaritas, they're not half bad

Great times in the Baja, just hanging out with Joe & Dominique on the beach, swimming in the sea, drinking cool Modelo beers, (sometimes eating a sandwich that included a baloney element), taking sundowners at the Sand Bar or Art & Beer and generally having a rare old time. We'll skip the incident when I got rudely slapped down like a foul-mouthed teenager by a massive wave whilst attempting to boogie board, my back getting a painful sand scraping and causing me to go deaf in my left ear. That wasn't as good fun.

I discovered that despite my general dislike of the taste and effects of tequila, margaritas are really rather good. Thanks to Dominique for enlightening me.

Joe (with Eskie) & Dominique walking through 'Mosquito Grove' on way to Playas Las Palmas. The next time we did this walk, Dominique was wearing jeans and woolly socks after being savagely ravaged by the wee blighters!

J&D sup beers in the shade of the brolly. Without the shade, we'd have

fried to a crisp within seconds, probably less.

Art & Beer, a strange post beach watering hole that was a cross between the Tate Modern, a hippy commune and a scrap yard. NOvel concept - the sea food Bloody Mary. Basically a Bloody Mary containing mussels, prawns, scallops, clams and maybe even a crabstick. One is all you need (in a lifetime!).

Art & Beer - they didn't muck about when it came to Mojitos! They were also
less likely to make you hurl than the sea food Bloody Mary!

Me and Margarita. Mmmh. I am wearing a straw (100%) hat that Dominque donated
to the cause of keeping me from death by sun. Many thanks.

Dominique happy as a clam, which is odd as shellfish really didn't agree with her.

Joe showing the usual enthusiasm for one of my 'Bedford Stories'.

Loafing about in the Baja

28 Sept - 7 Oct 2006: Todos Santos, west coast, Baja California, Mexico
This is where I was staying in Todos Santos. Actually that's a complete lie, I couldn't afford it. I was in The Motel California across the street which was in a state of either being rebuilt or falling down and had a swimming pool in which they were breeding squid. I felt it had a certian rustic charm. Others may disagree. Still, free calimari mustn't be sneezed at!

It's difficult to escape the Eagles song 'Welcome to the Hotel California' in Todos Santos for the obvious reason. This would be great if you liked the song. I don't, I think it's rubbish.

There she blows THE Hotel California, apparently.

The ocean and nearest beach, Playa Lobos, were a bit of a trek from the town down avocado and mango tree lined dirt tracks but at least you could gather lunch on the way. I took to knocking the fruit out of the trees with a length of sturdy pampas grass or similar, the trick being to drop the stick and catch the fruit before it hit the ground. I had such fun there were some days I never made it to the beach!

Pelicans exercising their right to gather and talk about...errr...fish?

The beach was massive, probably two and a half miles in a southerly direction to a headland and who knows how far in the other. In all my time there I saw two other people on the entire stretch and one of those was a bloated corpse that had washed up (no it wasn't...why do I say things like that?). On one day I rather foolishly walked down the beach to the headland which was hard going on soft, scorching sand. It was harder coming back. The next day I felt like I had run a marathon in sand paper slippers.

There were loads of pelicans on the beach. This was the first time I'd seen them in the wild. They're funny looking fellows, I tell ya. They like to fly in formation cruising the breaking waves looking for fish (I would assume, probably not spiritual enlightenment!), then peel away as it breaks and hook up with the next incoming wave, a bit like aerial surfers.

So this was my routine for a few days: up, shower (although the latter wasn't always adhered to), coffee and a bun, buy some water and head off for the 2 mile flip flop to the beach gathering a fruity lunch on the way. Then read, swim, watch pelicans and repeat those exercises but perhaps in a different order for variety.

Well, that was the routine until I went to The Hotel California one evening to see a band and got chatting with Joe & Dominique, a more pleasant a couple you couldn't wish to meet. Joe, on hearing of my lack of wheels and my daily fracas with Dusty Sandals, immediately suggested I join them the following day for a journey in their jallopy to Playa Las Palmos, a wee jaunt down the road from town. Marvellous! I left Dusty Sandals in the motel sulking.

Joe restraining Dominique as he often has to.

Joe & Dominique at the slopey Sand Bar.

Me & Dominique seemingly watching the Sand Bar burn down
judging by the reflected glow.

That's my style, The Juicy Dangler!

Baz just sent me a link to some Boosh clips on t'interweb and I have been absolutely wetting myself (is there some theme going on here?). That's one thing I really miss - The Mighty Boosh.

Genius!

My log in the Sea of Cortez

Sept 28, 2006: Mazatlan - La Paz - Todos Santos (Baja California)
So, the ferry from Mazatlan to La Paz (Baja not Bolivia). It's a long one at 18hrs. Could be worse, could be crossing the Baltic or North Sea in rough chop instead of the dead calm Sea of Cortez in balmy (errr...hot) weather. I'm in the ferry terminal standing out as the only gringo (although strictly that term applies to Americans not Limeys) amongst a mixed bag of Mexicans. I get a holler from some fellow who spots me for an English speaker. Here we go. He comes over to talk. His name's Fredrico and he has all the hallmarks of a ne'er do well and footpad: over friendly; badly executed Playboy bunny tattoo on his neck to accompany those on his knuckles; 'a way with the ladies', the sort that makes them roll their eyes and ignore him as he makes lude suggestions etc. It seems we are going to be 'ferry companions' for 18hrs, not that I had much choice about it.

The ferry sails out of Mazatlan as Fredrico tells me how he's going to the Baja to look for construction work in San Jose del Cabo after his stint in prison (twice) in the US for drug dealing, his deportation from Canada, the girlfriend and baby he left behind (although from how he describes it, I think she may have been glad to see the back of him) and how he felt he was fleeced by some prostitute in Mazatlan (450 Pesos for some 'action'...nice). On the positive side, his English was pretty good. I keep a weather eye out on my bag.

To be fair, he turned out to be pretty harmless (to me at least) and we shared the obligatory 'pivo' as the sun set ahead of us, a lightning storm lit up the clouds behind and dolphins flashed in the bow wave of the ferry. Pretty sound.

Slept on the floor of steerage class wrapped in the strap of my day release bag after decanting all valuables to my person.

After docking in La Paz Fredrico and I end up sitting next to each other on the same bus going to San Jose but I am getting cold feet about spending too much time with Fredrico - I could corrupt his innocent soul! The bus makes a brief stop in a small town half way to San Jose and I decide in a hurry to alight. The place I later learn is called Todos Santos, home (allegedly) to the Hotel California of Eagles fame and my base for the next eight days or so.

Here's a picture of the sunset on the ferry and Fredrico the Canary. (Actually there's not as t'Interweb cafes never seem to allow you to upload images. Tried several times. Shame shame. More pics when I get less restrictive access.)

Mexicans - they eat food

OK, so here I go on the mass generalisation that makes the world go round and also initiates wars. From what I've discovered Mexican food revolves primarily around the soft corn flour tortilla (floppy flat round bread), whatever they may dress it up as. The other intregal part of Mexican cuisine is refried beans, a bit like baked beans that have been stewed for a long time, are a chocolate colour and don't taste of processed 'tomato' sauce...so nothing like baked beans. The third commonality in all Mexican food is that you will end up wearing a lot of it, on your face (resulting in gringo chin), down your arm, in your lap, wherever.

Pants' guide to Mexican fayre

1. Tacos (beans on side): Open soft tortilla loaded with as much as you can pack in; prime cause of gringo chin.
Brit equivalent: Pie & Chips

2. Quesadillas (beans on side): Basically same as tacos with a cheese element; can be a bit flattened as if accidentally coming into contact with chef's elbow.
Brit equivalent: Cheese & Veg Pie & Chips

3. Enchiladas (beans on side): Rolled tortilla (i.e. a closed taco, you see?) covered in an improbably red coloured chilli sauce; troublesome finger food, recommend cutlery.
Brit equivalent: Pie, Chips & Gravy

4. Burritos (beans within and on side): Rolled tortilla incoporating a beany element.
Brit equivalent: Pie, Chips & Beans

5. Tostadas (beans on side): Flat tortilla that are crispy and covered in a topping (in short a taco that has been left out in the sun).
British equivalent: Burnt Pie & Chips

6. Queso Fundido (beans on side): (see Quesadillas)

There are a thousand other variations with assorted names like Flantas, Molletes, Sincronzada, Flacoyo, all have either beans within or on the side and are tortillas with stuff in them.

Pants' guide on where to eat Mexican food

Taco stands. End of story. These are the greasy cafes of Mexico and like greasy cafes can be very fine indeed.To spot a goodie look for the tell-tale signs:

A. A crowd, preferably not angry or agitated, that's a mob and can mean the complete opposite of what you're seeking.

B. A good name like 'Tacos Grande', 'Tacos Buena', 'Las 1000 Tacos' (shouldn't be a supply issue there) or 'Fat Bob's'.

C. Dogs - well, come on, if they're around the stand, they're not in the tacos, capiche!

D. Plenty of 'additions'. This is the whole point, loading up your tacos with an endless supply of salsa, guacamole, innocent looking chilli sauce that burns the roof of your mouth off etc.

E. A gritty clientelle - they are usually taco shack regulars and the most discerning. Note - do not attempt to wipe anyone else's chin. Bad form!