The breezes are warm, filled with the smell of warming earth I noticed a small crocus poking its head from its slumber in the earth Soon it’s soft purple face will open to drink in the sun The hard ground softens The days grow longer The grey of winter is being dyed pale green as the trees begin to bud The air fills with the sounds of the small birds that have so much to sing about I lie in the grass Gazing at the endless sky I melt into my gaze And then… Into the very ground that supports me We are ONE I feel the spirit of the mother course through my veins She beats in my heart My breathe becomes the wind itself A sense of being Of existing Of love We are ONE
Our days start at sunrise in Bahia Conception as the morning light shines in on my open back doors. On this cool dewy morning I wake to smell coffee and the wet air then I stretch to greet the new day. I open my eyes and take in the sunrise. An unusual sight greets me this morning. A huge cloud bank, tightly condensed on the water and up against the mountains that outline the bay. A few obscure paddle craft dot the horizon, enveloped in the thick fog bank, as the sun begins its ascent into the morning sky turning all the dew drops into small diamonds.
The day was only just beginning with the unusual fog, calm bay and absolutely still air heavy in dew.
A pod of 50-60 dolphins swim from one side of the bay to the other. The little dolphins enjoy jumping and I hear giggles from the campers gathered on the beach watching the folly. They shout and point out their location to the paddle craft in the water joining their migration across the open bay.
Yesterday was also an unusually calm day with no wind until very late in the afternoon. Again the dolphins passed by but, to our surprise, two small whales appeared. Probably a fin or pilot whale but don’t let that spoil the fun. On a paddle board, they are massive, thrilling, and a bit un-nerving as they swam within 50 feet or so from my paddle board. My little kid screeched with joy and the older me pulled back the enthusiasm to a safe distance.
It’s not only the mornings that bring us joy here at Playa La Escondida. The moon disappears from the sky as it makes its nightly voyage. Once the gang goes to sleep, which is usually by 9pm, the beach is warily quiet and dark. Looking into the water, allowing a minute for the eyes to adjust, it happens. Bioluminescents!! It’s like seeing a million fireflies all up and down the beach at the water’s edge. Green diamonds and a slash of blue and pink as you drag your paddle through the water. In the jet black of night, with a canopy of stars reflecting on the still water, it’s an otherworldly sight. In the blackness comes the “poof” of a whales blowhole as it exhales. All the sudden you realize how small you are in the scene of things and at that exact moment, standing in the vastness of the stars, you feel like you are somehow integrated into it all.
In the last 75 days, we’ve traveled the entire length of Baja Mexico exploring both the Pacific Coast and the East side of the Sea of Cortez to the South and East of Cabo San Lucas by Van. We also flew to the Yucatan Peninsula to visit Tulum and the far southeast of mainland Mexico to explore Oaxaca. That’s almost 3500 miles. Every mile has been worth it. The culture, the people, the sights, sounds, art, architecture, history and food, all have played an integral part in the experience. A lifetime of memories packed into a measured amount of time. Amazing comes to mind.
We have tasted new flavors, textures and savored the aroma of the local foods. Fresh, full of flavors I don’t think I’ve ever tasted before. A cacophony of zings and sweetness, fiery hot and creamy smooth, crunchy, chewy, stringy and saucy. I’ve tried things I couldn’t quite identify and the translation from the menu, just made you laugh. We’ve aimed our phones at so many menus, attempting to decipher the dishes. Often times the pictures spoke volumes, although the color has often times faded from the strong Mexican sun. Just sit back…giggle and breathe…it’s all part of the adventure.
Walking around as much as we do in these cities, is also an experience. First rule, never step on a manhole cover or other covers in the sidewalk or the telephone and fiber cable boxes, water meter boxes and water tank fill boxes. Often these boxes no longer have intact lids, making for some perilous walking. Why should the sidewalks be any different than the roads? Crosswalks…well no, not really, more of a suggestion as are the 4 way stop signs on every block. It’s like a read my mind game. Which drivers are gonna stop and is it safe to cross? It’s kinda a cat and mouse game, no maybe more like chicken. The drivers are usually kind and if not in a hurry, will wave you on or flash the lights. As this happens the entire street full of cars at the intersection, blow off the stop signs and continue in a stream of metal, until…a driver inches his way out enough to stop the flow and take his turn. Impatient horns are a thing here too. Not the lay on the horn of the American culture, there is no road rage, just an impatient honk honk and a friendly acknowledgment from the other driver.
One could liken walking around in these small Mexican towns to Christmas. Behind every wall is a prize. Brightly colored rooms lit in soft lighting, families gathered around tables sharing a meal, artisan shops and galleries all hide behind these walls. Everyone surrounds their homes with tall walls, often imbedded broken glass or spikes line the tops, warding off any intruders. There are often elaborate gates and a gang of rescued street dogs warning you to not enter. The walls, as in Loreto and Oaxaca, are often embellished with creative designs, incredible artisan images of life, history, nature or cultural themes fill entire sides of buildings. Some tell stories of the hardships of life in Mexico, the kindness of the people, the industriousness of Mexico. Others are underwater worlds depicted in large murals.
To be able to experience this and so much more requires us to slow down. To really take a look around. To watch our step and smell the air for what is on the menu. To really stop and admire the painting, carving, saying, design, posters and even the graffiti. There is no hurry, life is too short to not live it fully, here and now. We’re so lucky to have the leisure time we do and the means to travel…and the guts to step outside our comfort zone to try something new.
I don’t always know what it is that will catch my eye, tickle my nose with a new scent or ring out in my ears as I walk through this city. There is a rhythm to life in Oaxaca.
The air is fresh here, with the exception of the occasional stopped traffic and the fumes from the vehicles. The sky is a deep azure intensified by the altitude of just over 5,000 feet or about 1,500 meters. The city is surrounded by mountains that can only be viewed from a rooftop terrace as found in almost every building. The foliage is a tossup between tropical and desert yet the air feels hot and dry with the sun’s intensity making it feel even hotter.
The rows and rows of solid walls with a doorway leading into the very heart of the building. The courtyard. Most of the city is Spanish colonial. With often times three generations living in one home, the configuration of these lovely, colorful buildings makes total sense. Each interior is different with only one common theme, the courtyard with rooms off to kitchens, bathrooms, offices, indoor gathering areas, and a rooftop terrace. The special touches added by generational influences, cultural appreciation, artisanal likes and tastes. Colors vary greatly but tend to lean more tropical, bright oranges, blues, yellow and greens. There are often bars on the windows to the outside which after a fashion becomes part of the architecture and less about crime.
The streets are clean and tidy and mostly made of blocks of rock or cement, each hand laid and leveled. The pride of the people shines through in most all areas, though there is a free “artistic” expression found on most every wall. Someone’s personal stamp on the world, be it graffiti or actual pictorial design. Each says something about the trials, tribulations and triumphs of life here. To say “hey I’m here.” To convey a thought, political statement or just to advertise.
The Catholic Church is the center of each small neighborhood. There are over 25 churches and 125 parishes in Oaxaca Centro, the main being Templo de Santo Domingo. Every Saturday, weddings are performed at this enormous church. A precision sets up outside the church, consisting of papermache edifices of the bride and groom that twirl and sway while a marching band plays. Women and men in typical Mixtec and Zapotec costume of bright colors with embroidery depicting the cultural symbolism of their heritage. It is quite the fan fare and each wedding is held on the hour and the revelry commences as the newly weds exit the church.
The food here is amazing. It is freshly made to order, be it a restaurant or street vendor. The smells waft on the breezes through the walled streets, making one’s mouth salivate. The ingredients are not always known to us but we are adventurous and step out of our comfort zone to try new things. Oaxaca is best known for two culinary items…Mole and Mezcal. There are so many variations of Mezcal that can be found in the place of whiskey or regular tequila in many drinks. Each Mole is also crafted by hand in an arduous process and it seems the variety of Moles are endless.
We’ve only begun to scratch the surface and we’ve got another week to experience Oaxaca. A foodie heaven and cultural center, with hundreds of maze like streets to explore. Best done on foot so not to miss anything hidden inside a doorway.
The immense energy builds The water retreats from the beach leaving a shimmering ripple on the sand The wave pulls up Up and up building up a frothy top Gravity takes control and the wave crashes A thunderous clap as the top of the immense wave hits the calm water below It rolls slowly to the shore loosing its energy as it passes over the sand The calm and stillness take over A lone surfer paddles out and meets this energy Riding its strength and power
The sky beyond the waves is vast and encompassing I stare into it with a deep inhalation As I release I am pulled into the vastness of the deep blue I enter the energy and light As finite as the line between sea and sky is I transcend into the oneness of it all The breeze blows across my skin…hot with sun My toes bury deep in the sand I am connected earth, sky and water I am the link between them all I breathe again and slowly pull my conscious back to this moment I can feel the interconnectedness of it all and I am one with it all and at peace Johnna
How do we do it? On the road for exactly 4 years and 8 months and 2 days…Life is too short to waste a moment. If you need to ask, well I’m so sorry for you. This last week/month has been a tremendous insight into so many things. Who really needs to discuss the elephant in the room?
With so many friends of ours that have moved from the US to live in other countries, it’s good to hear the insight from “boots on the ground”. Of course we’ve made a list of things we’d like to have, and those that are a must, where ever it is we decide to call home base.
Can anyone ever really live the “perfect life”?
We asked some and they will say that a “community” is important. We agree. We will say that temperature and climate as a whole impacts our decision greatly. Others claim the silence, cost of living, food, water, power…being off grid. Things, it seems we are conditioned to as “privileged” Americans. I think friends, location to things we like to do, access to water sports, and a small carbon footprint if possible, also are high on the list. Clean air and good health care are not something that can be denied.
How do we proceed? Good question. Perhaps the real answer is that we will never be comfortable in any one place for too long. Perhaps a few months here and a few there. No real commitment and there in perhaps lies the real issue. Why commit? After all, we are wanderers, travelers.
There are a few reasons to find a home base…one a place to feel grounded, your own. We have our place in TRNC, ready in Feb of 2027…but until then? Why do we feel a need to find one place? A place we “own”? A need to spend money? Some will say, if you’re comfortable in your own skin, there’s no need to find comfort from outside. Yes and no. It’s not that comfort we are looking for.
The future is so uncertain. We will most likely agree to rent, long term, and leave when the urge comes. We are not getting any younger and eventually will need a “home”. Somewhere they don’t throw away their old people. A place to travel from.
A place that targets health and well-being over treating dis-ease. A kind and stable government.
We are wrapping up a week in Tulum, where we ventured out to see if we could find a place to call home base. Once again, the homes were lovely, one we both were ready to buy. The next day we went out again to look and we stood in the jungle for about half an hour and we both began to feel ill from over heating. We took it as a sign that this is not someplace we could enjoy for long. Oh well…on to Oaxaca for 2 weeks of fun!!
Today and yesterday were memorial days for Chris and I. Loosing two family members a day apart is tough. That was only 3 years ago. Life is too short and too unpredictable to let one moment pass by without taking every advantage it may hold…a lesson, a creative thought, a feeling, a beginning or an end.
The older we get, the more we run away from the inevitable end coming at us like a freight train in a long tunnel. What is important today may not be tomorrow. It is so hard to really think about death, when we are living so hard but each step we take now, will have a ripple effect throughout our lives.
Letting go of all our possessions 5 years ago was a release I really can’t put to words. It is so freeing. There is a struggle with “things”, and it is those things that will kill us or cause suffering we can’t understand, nor are willing to realize. That shiny apple will eventually shrivel and die and our suffering increases ten fold.
What brings me pleasure is the simple things that can’t be owned or put into a box. The sunrise and sunset, warm breezes on a cold day, sand between my toes, the sound of birds, the wind, the waves, the warmth of the sun, music, good food, good friends, petting an animal, trees, grass and the desert. All these things are different each time encountered because of change/impermanence, but I still feel that familiar comfort and ease at each chance encounter. We’ve learned to relish every moment, good or bad, knowing that if something is off, there will always be a change, be it in a moment, a day or a week, and the good is for that moment only and to be cherished. I’m rambling.
Bottom line…life is too short to sweat the small or big stuff. Life can be less about suffering and more about the joy of letting go and letting be. Get out and smell the air, feel the sun, listen to nature and LIVE!
There is a strong draw, felt by a number of nomads, to explore the wild spaces rarely visited by “tourists”. One reason is the lack of transportation capable of handling the washed out, wash board dirt roads found in these areas. Another, the urge to stay in the familiar, attached to cell phones, TV and the comforts of the brick and mortar of a home. When we tell some of our journeys, they all gasp and wonder where we ever got the need to wander.
There is a pull to the desert that has enveloped Chris and I. A need for open spaces, a dry climate and room to roam freely, sometimes without seeing another soul for days. The chance meetings often turn into deep conversations and a fire side chat recounting trials and tribulations of life on the road. We share our stories, sometimes harrowing and unbelievable. Perhaps it’s a draw to face death at every turn, or perhaps the thrill of adventure and to push the envelope beyond the comfort level of the normal human. This takes us to today, four and a half years of being free and able to travel at will, one with our surroundings.
In February of 2021, we hooked up with a caravan of three, Chris and I and two other gals, and crossed the border into Baja Mexico, for the first time. There’s a call we lean towards and freely give into, that paves the way for our wander lust. Baja seemed like the great western frontier that we needed to explore and conquer. Armed with only our cell phones and a good translation app, Garmin GPS, and a competent van, we set out to explore a country unknown to us; a 1,000 mile journey full of new flora and fauna, animals and sea life. I found it so inspiring that I wrote a book while traveling through Baja for 3 months. Fast forward to January 2025 and here we are again.
It’s been a tough 2 years emotionally. After loosing our corgi Gandaulf, we sold our first van and all the toys we had accumulated during our travels and set out to travel around the world. Seven months traveling around Europe and another four months in SE Asia, Indonesia, and Malaysia, then back to the States where we purchased another van to complete the Canada/Alaska trip we missed out on during our two and a half years living on the road.
Alaska and western Canada is another frontier of sorts. Not like the desert but just as grand and open. The roads in each very similar; pot holed and delaminated. The punishing washboard roads in dire need of repair, are enough to put any van build or truck to the test. there would be whole days of traveling 3-400 miles and never cross another vehicle. We were never sure if the paved sections of the roads were better than the dirt roads, both held their own dangers. The grandeur of the Alaskan and Yukon outbacks are hard to match, even in the deserts of the south western USA. Still, the desire to revisit Baja California, Mexico and the desert was strong.
Today, January 6, 2025, I’m writing you while enjoying coffee and the warm sun of La Paz, Baja California Sur, surrounded by fellow travelers. We’ve traveled 1350km so far, with another 300km to go. The roads to this point have been narrow two lane highways, with little to no safety lane and often no shoulders. There are times when we must come to a complete stop to walk the van through deep potholes and slow to a crawl when passing trucks come barreling around blind corners. There are constant signs of accidents, both with roadside crosses and mangled guardrails, straightened out or completely ripped from the supports and trailing off into deep ravens as if pointing to the site of a wayward vehicle leaving the road and plummeting to its end. Often times, there will be stretches of road that have carcasses of dead cows, horses or the unidentifiable remains of some unfortunate animal, usually struck at night by a speedy semi, as they come to the flat roads to sleep. It’s a constant reminder that it only takes a second of misfortune to end a life.
So our nomadic wandering continues with so much more to see and experience. We may be absent but we are always present where ever we find ourselves. Living in the moment, sometimes with no set direction but forward. Always savoring the newness of each destination and rolling with whatever may come our way.
I’ve been sitting on this lovely mesquite wood since I pulled in a day before Chris could join me. I caught an awful cold which continued to infect my lungs and finally today, I feel human again. It’s been a long month. I brought out my axe and picked the wood I thought I could split and had at it. I managed to take 7 of the 10 pieces of gnarled mesquite wood and cut it down for smaller wood and kindling. Invited new friends, and had a night of hearing the new version of campfire stories.
We all are from different places and times, some old some a little younger. Some have physical property, land with or without a dwelling, and some have what we’ve arrived at this beach in. No matter, we are all a family unlike that you find. A community of like minded individuals, that, for whatever reason, have the need to wander.
For some it’s a place that is not too pleasant in winter months, some who drive south into Baja as an escape from the gloom and cold winters. For Others, just an escape from some demons chasing them, known or not. For us it’s a chance to take a camping vacation on the beach, where we can stop and unload and finally sit still for more than a day.
Baja Sur is like the old western movies you see. Gauchos riding amongst the cactus and mesquite, Palo Verde and Palo Blanco trees dotting gnarled rocky desert landscape. Tall pilars of crumbling hills and buttes stacked on the ground like the fins in a dragons back. Hot arid air burns the skin and in the city is often full of Mexican polkas and meriotche.
We’ve moved to Loreto, about 2 hours further down the coast, to visit our long time friends who live here now. They live in the Historic Centro of Loreto, a maze of streets that eventually lead to the main Malecon. Bahia Loreto fronts the Malecon and is often a churning white capped sea. There are many gringos mingled with the local Mexicans living in the historic district. Loreto is more like an oasis than the desert. The Centro is centered around one of the 3 missions in this area. A mix of shops and cafes line the Centro. Coffee shops and artists round out the collection. Arched trees provide shade and beauty.
Time to stop and live outside the van for a week or so.
Well, we’ve made it down into Baja California Sur, Mexico. The journey down took the best part of a week. There are numerous military check points along the way, mostly just curious federales except coming into San Ignacio, those guys are jerks.
The driving was a bit hairy after we connected with the main highway Route 1. The road is plenty wide enough for our van and a semi…as long as everyone stays in their own lanes. The last trip up and over the mountains and into Santa Rosalía was the last of the dangerous stretches of windy mountain passes for a while. We were told there’s an accident almost everyday.
Our push to get to Mulege and Bahia Concepcion paid off in spades until Chris came down with the same cold I was battling and we opted to get a hotel room in Posada Concepcion to get some rest and take some long hot showers to try and get on top of our sickness. After a day I pushed on to the beach to set up camp, Chris stayed behind for one more day.
View from the hotel room
A nice camp spot was saved for me by Frank and Linda, right on the beach only 20’ from the high tide line. The beach is made up of broken shells that have been pulverized into course sand. There are starfish, pelicans, seagulls and turns, dolphins playing in the bay and dozens of paddle boards and kayaks skimming the water as far as one can see. The gentle lapping of the water along the beach lulls me into a trancelike state until the seagulls cry snaps me back.
Our camp
Every morning, several beach dwellers take out kayaks and fish. Upon returning, they clean and fillet the fish they caught. This daily ritual has attracted 5 large brown pelicans and 2 seagulls. The fisherman feeds the pelicans and the seagulls scream at them, sometimes pestering them enough they get a small morsel. Lazy birds.
Everyday a gentle breeze picks up in the early afternoon, turning the glassy waters of the bay, into small wave trains that lap at the shore and make for some fun paddle boarding. There’s little trails leading up into the hills that surround the beach, a larger area with a dozen or more palapas, outhouses with smelly pit toilets, we use our own and take the cassette once every 3 days and dump it in one.
Colorful Bay of Concepcion Bay of Glassy waterSun sparkles
On any sunny day, the bay turns aqua green with deep blues and turquoise. Dancing in the water are sun sparkles, glitter from the sun. If you squint your eyes those sparkles become sun drops splashing into the bay. I squint and watch these little jewels of light as they dance on the top of the water. Another day another sand dollar.
Two Travelin' Chicas... 