San Ignacio (MX) - San Diego (USA)
OK given that I have left the cable which will allow me to upload pictures from the phone back at our hostel room, I'm afraid I'll NOT be able to give you any pics or video... So I'll have to delve deep into my powers of description and paint a picture with words. Unfortunately, given the standard picture:words worthiness ratio, so this may be a long post...
Our first impressions of San Ignacio were gained when the bus dropped us about 1.5 miles away on the main road. The bus terminal was a single room with (in fairness) a computer and a fairly bored looking employee. Attatched to the bus depot are two little shops selling not very much - each containing at least one bored employee and several people - some of whom I summised to be relatives.
Anyway, we trudged our way through the swirling dust of the main road into San Ignacio - trying as best we could to keep out of the glare of the afternoon sun. When we finally reached the centre of San Ignacio, it seemed blissfully quiet and still, but best of all, the main square is well equipped with benched and shaded by leafy trees. The west (I think) side is ted by the old San Ignacio mission - the other three sides enclosed with shops, a hotel, an internet cafe and tour buildings. Vendors had set up their vans at strategic points around the plaza, but seemed more intent on watching TV than hawking their various wares at us. Several vehicle loads of touristy-looking people (such as ourselves) were wondering around the mission, consulting maps or guide books and generally looking incongruous with the soporific pace of the small town.

After rewarding ourselves with by taking a breather in the blissful cool of the shade, we took turns - alternately watching our cumbersome baggage and investigating the old mission. We heard later that this mission had been cared for by the local populace (mainly the women I believe) even during times when there was no priest there. I will come back and post an image here soon.
We stayed that night in the hotel on the square although the "hotel" we stayed in was really little more than an outhouse in the back garden of a local family. Despite the lack of creature comforts (and the fact that the bed itself was a block of concrete topped with a mattress) it did us nicely and saved us $60 on a night at the local motel. We could have stayed in a yurt but that would have meant trekking back out towards the main road again...
We arranged a trip out to the lagoon 40 miles from town where we could stay in a tent (although we ended up getting upgraded free of charge to a cabin!) and watch grey whales. We got up bright and early for the 8am bus ride out to the camp but luckily only had to cross the town square to catch the bus. The bus was actually a small minivan - which was just as well because there were only 5 of us going - but especially so because it seemed as if the road was strictly abritary at times and at other times felt and sounded like a badly rundown wooden rollercoaster. We finally arrived, somewhat physically agitated, an hour and a half later. The camp is a lovely patch of land down by the lagoon. There are a dozen or so huts set up down by the shore and the scenery is amazing. One horizon is ted by moutains and the other by water. The intervening space is mostly scrub, although it is dotted by the occasional cactus. We were warned that there was a local cayote (although I suspect that while his wilyness is indesputable, I doubt that ACME made deliveries out there so we would be safe from falling rocks, sticks of dynamite and elaborate road-runner traps).
We checked in with the camp and got ourselves suited up for the boat trip out into the lagoon. We were issued with life jackets and soon enough we were zipping through clear blue water that looked for all the world like an undulating sheet of crushed velvet. Squardrons of dolphins vectored in on our boat like intercepting fighter places and escorted us for a while - under the nose of our boat and occasionally to each side before dropping back into our wake as if giving us permission to continue. The whales we encountered on our trips (both that day and the next) seemed to be inquisitive but wary - some swam alongside us for a time before diving to the lagoon floor. Others circled our boat for a closer look before apparently deciding that we weren't worth further investigation. Despite the lack of physical contact, we were left in awe of these massive creature and their essentially mysterious life beneath the surface.
After a day and a half of complete relaxation - and interesting company, such as a couple who had quit the US for Baja and an history professor from London - we grudgingly headed back to civilisation and the overnight bus to Tijuana.
A final piece of travel news to report - we encountered a fairly horrendous looking crash on the main road - the whole road was blocked and looked like it would be for a while - so our driver managed to coax the hulking behemoth around some dirt roads to get us back on track. The hero.
OK time to go - I'm being kicked out! See you all soon! Photos to follow.
Our first impressions of San Ignacio were gained when the bus dropped us about 1.5 miles away on the main road. The bus terminal was a single room with (in fairness) a computer and a fairly bored looking employee. Attatched to the bus depot are two little shops selling not very much - each containing at least one bored employee and several people - some of whom I summised to be relatives.
Anyway, we trudged our way through the swirling dust of the main road into San Ignacio - trying as best we could to keep out of the glare of the afternoon sun. When we finally reached the centre of San Ignacio, it seemed blissfully quiet and still, but best of all, the main square is well equipped with benched and shaded by leafy trees. The west (I think) side is ted by the old San Ignacio mission - the other three sides enclosed with shops, a hotel, an internet cafe and tour buildings. Vendors had set up their vans at strategic points around the plaza, but seemed more intent on watching TV than hawking their various wares at us. Several vehicle loads of touristy-looking people (such as ourselves) were wondering around the mission, consulting maps or guide books and generally looking incongruous with the soporific pace of the small town.

After rewarding ourselves with by taking a breather in the blissful cool of the shade, we took turns - alternately watching our cumbersome baggage and investigating the old mission. We heard later that this mission had been cared for by the local populace (mainly the women I believe) even during times when there was no priest there. I will come back and post an image here soon.
We stayed that night in the hotel on the square although the "hotel" we stayed in was really little more than an outhouse in the back garden of a local family. Despite the lack of creature comforts (and the fact that the bed itself was a block of concrete topped with a mattress) it did us nicely and saved us $60 on a night at the local motel. We could have stayed in a yurt but that would have meant trekking back out towards the main road again...
We arranged a trip out to the lagoon 40 miles from town where we could stay in a tent (although we ended up getting upgraded free of charge to a cabin!) and watch grey whales. We got up bright and early for the 8am bus ride out to the camp but luckily only had to cross the town square to catch the bus. The bus was actually a small minivan - which was just as well because there were only 5 of us going - but especially so because it seemed as if the road was strictly abritary at times and at other times felt and sounded like a badly rundown wooden rollercoaster. We finally arrived, somewhat physically agitated, an hour and a half later. The camp is a lovely patch of land down by the lagoon. There are a dozen or so huts set up down by the shore and the scenery is amazing. One horizon is ted by moutains and the other by water. The intervening space is mostly scrub, although it is dotted by the occasional cactus. We were warned that there was a local cayote (although I suspect that while his wilyness is indesputable, I doubt that ACME made deliveries out there so we would be safe from falling rocks, sticks of dynamite and elaborate road-runner traps).
We checked in with the camp and got ourselves suited up for the boat trip out into the lagoon. We were issued with life jackets and soon enough we were zipping through clear blue water that looked for all the world like an undulating sheet of crushed velvet. Squardrons of dolphins vectored in on our boat like intercepting fighter places and escorted us for a while - under the nose of our boat and occasionally to each side before dropping back into our wake as if giving us permission to continue. The whales we encountered on our trips (both that day and the next) seemed to be inquisitive but wary - some swam alongside us for a time before diving to the lagoon floor. Others circled our boat for a closer look before apparently deciding that we weren't worth further investigation. Despite the lack of physical contact, we were left in awe of these massive creature and their essentially mysterious life beneath the surface.
After a day and a half of complete relaxation - and interesting company, such as a couple who had quit the US for Baja and an history professor from London - we grudgingly headed back to civilisation and the overnight bus to Tijuana.
A final piece of travel news to report - we encountered a fairly horrendous looking crash on the main road - the whole road was blocked and looked like it would be for a while - so our driver managed to coax the hulking behemoth around some dirt roads to get us back on track. The hero.
OK time to go - I'm being kicked out! See you all soon! Photos to follow.

9 Comments:
Fascinating post, but I don't like the sound of the roads. Meanwhile here back at the ranch you may be interested to know that wee Benson is still flowering away like mad and the one from the stairwell is putting on a good display (bright pink) Take care, love xxxxx
By
Anonymous, At
2:19 am
Who's this "ted" character that appeared a couple of times in your post? He sounds like a weirdo.
Everyone knows that the collective for dolphins is "pod" or "school" or even more correctly "handful" not "squardrons". Also how does something vector in on something? Also you'd have thought that the captain of the ship would have turned the propellors off when they were around. Seeing dolphins "drop back into the wake" (jet engine style) must have been gross.
Anyway, I want to know what you guys have:-
a) been eating (dolphin tacos / tortillas)
b) been reading on all these buses(there are some classic travel books "Catcher in the Rye" "Don Quyote" etc etc.
c) what presents you've bought me so far
By
Anonymous, At
4:59 am
Catcher in the Rye is rubbish, and I feel that tex-mex Tam is a bit negative after such a wonderful post. I look forward to the photos!!
By
Lib, At
9:15 am
Hello there, guess you're on a boat at the moment. Hope all's well - sounds like you're having a whale of a time! Loved the Grand Canyon pics, but who's that strange bearded gentleman with you Trace...? Take care of yourselves
Sarah xx
By
Anonymous, At
1:13 pm
Ah-Har there me hearties!
Peg Leg Tam here. Mighty pirate and cap’n of the Salty Dog – the most fearsome pirate ship in the Pacific.
I have boarded a freighter bound for Oz and now have 2 stowaway’s held captive going by the name Iff and Trace.
Never fear – they are still alive but if you want them to be spared walking the plank, released unharmed and allowed to continue posting please forward a treasure chest full of pirate gold and barrel of rum to an associate of mine at a company called PSN based (bizarrely) in Aberdeen. That stands for Pirating Sevices Network and not Production Services Network as commonly believed. My contact’s name (who cheques can be made payable to) is…………., would you believe the coincidence, is Mr T Noden. Alternatively you can contribute to another of my associate’s charity fundraising page – as detailed in previous posts from “other” blog browsers.
Anyway, my first mate, “Old Gregg” is getting a bit restless, I think he wants some baileys or something so I better end the post and sort him out.
By
Anonymous, At
10:04 am
Peg leg Tam, your grammar sucks. We want photographic proof of your claim before forwarding your gold to M. Credible, or Mr T Noden.
By
Lib, At
4:07 am
Whats be Grammar? Likes ye not my pirate diction?
Righto, me hearties, to let’s ye know I be serious I’m gonna chop one of yellow bellied scurvy boy’s (Iff’s) ears off and send Lib it in the post.
That’ll stop your Grammar complaining and should be proof enough that I have these bilge-rats hostage.
By
Anonymous, At
6:30 am
Wow - it seems like a lot has happened (and to me to boot) while I've been on the freighter.
Sounds like I'm lucky to have both my slightly larger than average ears (and thus my boyish good looks) intact.
By
Iff, At
4:47 pm
No presents for Tex Mex, Peg Leg or just plain "normal", Tam.
Ha!
By
Iff, At
4:47 pm
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