The first day. We figured out as we were passing Salsipuedes that we have been to Baja 8 times since we met. The second time was on our way to Panama, where the van stopped working. Maybe we would have made it further?

This time was similar to many others. The tightness in the belly approaching the last USA exit. The commitment to the boarder. Then the crossing. The cursory check by the customs agents, and then the brief beaurocracy of getting a tourist card. Then you are on the road.

Driving south through Ensenada we were intercepted by a convoy of Baja Bugs. There was a race today, from Ensenada to San Filipe. 250km. A brief stab of nostalgia for the time I wanted to race the Baja Mil.

The highway is the same but better. Not as good as the road south from Mexicali, but still good, and we make acceptable time, before reaching our destination around 12:45. It’s on the coast, and there are oysters.

The dog is free to roam as he was not in San Diego. There is wind, but maybe not quite enough to get a kite in the air. Either that or I am scared of the small waves.

Instead it is time for a beer and a book, and reflections on the possibly superior nation to our south. Superior, particularly when illuminated in the light (or darkness) that our Supreme Court has cast over the nation yesterday.

We will stay here but one night. The road south, with fewer people and less water. Higher winds and bigger waves. Clearer ocean and deserted coastline. Tomorrow we continue driving. We can’t see all of it, but we can try.