Mexico Prep 2010

The build up towards departure is always a mixed bag. A visceral anticipation of slipping into our flip flops, our white dried out skin exposed to the warm tropical air. Familial farewells and last minute coffee chats with friends leaves me feeling a bit disconcerted. A compulsive anxiety comes over me too. I want all the neurotic care and energy that we put into scouring our home for strangers, something we would not do for ourselves, to remain static. A diorama of 484 Goodman. I desire the weeded garden, refrigerator cleaned and deodorized, all the nick knacks wiped down or stored, scrubbed tile and vacuumed areas behind the furniture to all remain suspended and fixed so that in six months we are allowed to enjoy our home as we left it. No time occurred in our absence. As much as I like to think I can manipulate my environment, mother nature always shows me who is in control. This year there is some trepidation in preparing to head south. Mexico has gotten bad press and we are trying to be level headed about the current events. John follows the news on line, through blogs, chat rooms and off the radar news sources. Our hearts override the gossip in the back news stories. The cartel will not mess with us in broad day light, it’s just common sense; stick to the major toll roads, no night time driving, stay away from the swank disco’s, bars and all places were wealthy narco’s hang and all will be well. We choose this approach rather then toting ammo, camping in Quartzite AZ for the winter or staying in Nor Cal.

Once on the road all our angst and guilt over the remainders on the ‘to do list’ slip and sale past us as we motor down the highway. Sleeping in the camper the first night is a rite of passage. We wake and time is like stretched silly putty, it has little meaning and will be passe when we arrive in Melaque if not before. Stop when we’re hungry, drive until sunset, read, compute. The order of needs and desires are at our whim.

We are number 15 for the day explains the immigration officer at the boarder. It is after 12 noon and there have been 17 of us applying for tourist visas. One Canadian from BC and a very uptight young couple from Austria are in the banjercito office with us. No long lines. A quiet newly resurfaced four lane freeway is outside the glass double doors. We see two motor homes that afternoon, both heading north. Sitting in our truck, AC on, Best of John Prine playing, the dessert stretched before us is placid. Santa Ana is our first stop, refuel, bank, eat and sleep. The family who own the economic restaurant are warm and friendly. The fixed menu is 50 pesos, @ $4.00. We can’t decide on which of the two main courses to order and the very attentive host offers us a ½ and ½ plate. Our dinner comes with soup, rice, beans, salad and tortillas. We each suck down a cold coca cola in a bottle. The next two days are uneventful. People are friendly when we stop to eat or fill up the tank and the roads are smooth as we cruise into Mazatlan. What stands out as different so far is the lack of RV’s. It is still early in the season but for now we are a minority, Americans traveling and camping in Mexico are few and far between.

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