We live part time near Bahia de Los Angeles. The tiny village
here is filled with sweet people and the basic necessities they
require. Although we can find many quality foodstuffs, shrimp,
scallops and fish, chicken and beef, there is no true
"meat market" and the provisions, while growing,
are still limited. Life here is as you would expect; limited
needs, limited provisions. We are accustomed to that and
wouldn't change a thing. And there is no bank.
While we have made other arrangements from time to time when we
run out of money here they have the potential of inconveniencing
others. So we avoid it.
Today, after a month plus in Bahia we drove the 3½ hours each
direction to Guerrero Negro for some supplies not available in
Bahia and for a cash withdrawal from our nearest bank. The
maximum we can extract is $400, and most places in Guerrero
Negro don't take debit or credit cards, so we were still
limited by what we could buy for our remaining time in Bahia de
Los Angeles. But that's all good because we were
spending too much moola anyway.
We took the airport road into town and were soon overwhelmed by
the bustle of the community, the main point of provision for the
entire central Baja peninsula. After so much time in the rural
environs outside Bahia de Los Angeles it was the equivalent of
being deposited at Sixth and Spring streets in downtown L.A.
People were everywhere, colors designed to attract attentions
for the purpose of advertisement, salesmen waving, so many
establishments in general were all overpowering and we had been
away from all that for so long that we were more aware than we
might on "the other side." El otro lado, meaning
the United States. We spent two hours in town and I was very
prepared to return to our sleepy fishing village and our house south.
It doesn't take long to slow down when we're at
our Baja abode. There's nothing to cause you to focus
except the sea, sky, the sand. And the birds; pelicans, heron,
egrets, California gulls, terns, and the Magnificent Frigate
birds. It's such a peaceful environment. It's a
very tranquil place.
On our long and tedious drive to Guerrero today we carried
another couple we've recently met. During the hours of
driving south and then returning north we had plenty of time to
talk; indeed a need to talk to fill what would otherwise be
boring hours of nothing but blacktop. We discussed our varied
histories, our worries about our futures, our current problems
and issues and our related discoveries from our past. On a long
drive like this there is a certain pleasure and idleness
fulfilled by deep discussions. We have now become friends with
our fellow travelers.
When times failed to fill our conversational needs, our
friends' 15 month old baby offered up sweet sounds for
our appreciation. She is just learning to talk and walk and you
can respect the smiling and yet serious look on her face when
she has to concentrate on these issues. It carried me back to
our own children when they were babies in Southern Spain, North
Africa and Baja and loving them with such intensity and then
through to today when we are missing them badly because they at
our northern home and we are here in our southern.
All this on a lonely road in the central peninsula.
Once back at our casa our friends packed up their new supplies
and departed. We climbed the stairs, put our goods away and sat
on the balcony facing east. The sun had set behind our tall
western mountains and our house was in shadow. But the hills
forming the southern tip of Bahia de Los Angeles, Punta Roja,
were still illuminated in bright orange and red and tan tones.
What an awesome sight and what a feeling of peace and
tranquility, looking across the bay at the exhibits of our universe.
I guess it's all about accessibility of time.
Down here there's plenty of it.
Time to share life with each other. Time to ponder and
appreciate simple matters.