A few miles outside of the nothing town of Puertocitos the paved road transforms into a minefiled of chunks of tarmac dotting sandy dirt and patches of pavement just big enough to house the potholes the litter it. Ah yes. It’s our welcoming party to Puertocitos.
We arrived last night just as the sunset. There’s nothing appealing about this town and I convince Sacha that we might have to sacrafice dinner and head south fo a “campo” 4 clicks down the road. I spotted the sign and figured a palapa on the beach would be better than staying in this dusty dump. With the sun gone and just the hum of our engines and beams of our lights piercing the dark emptiness we roll into Bahia Cristina.
We negotiate $10 for a palapa with a picnic table, electrical outlet and flourescent lighting. Ivan, the 12 year old son of the owner brings us over a handful of Coronos and we settle in for the evening.
It finally feels like we’re moving on. Making progress.
(1) Parked outside lunch place in Los Ojos; (2) Sunrise at Bahia Cristina, Baja California, Norte Mexico