… promised lots of sunshine, summer temperatures, tailwinds and dryness. But there was no sign of that at first…

“Mi casa es tu casa”, emphasized our great host Carlos in Tecate on arrival, and so we were allowed to call his house ours until a rain front had passed. For two nights and one day, it poured down almost non-stop, preventing us from enjoying the best muffins in North America so far or the free beer at the Tecate brewery. David only took a few steps out the door to get the delicious fish tacos for lunch. I only moved from the table to the sofa, because in the evening we watched the Pixar animated film Coco with our hosts. It gave us a very warm introduction to how Día de Muertos is celebrated in Mexico. We couldn’t have wished for a cozier and fitting start to our time in Mexico. Thank you very much, Carlos, Yaneli and Chihuahua Nina! Feeling ready and having enjoyed a Mexican breakfast, we set off south two days later than planned.

We had barely left Tecate and its suburbs when an elderly gentleman crossed the road and handed us four warm burritos in a plastic bag. How had he spotted us and so spontaneously prepared a snack for us? It’s probably not in the travel recommendations for Mexico that you should accept food from a complete stranger and eat it with relish. We did it anyway😊. And to this day, they were the best burritos we’ve had.

We spent the night of our first day of riding at the fire station, as recommended by Carlos. The bomberos are trustworthy friends and helpers in this country who offer cyclists shelter whenever possible. From the fire station, it wasn’t far to the harbor town of Ensenada, which for us was actually just a successful lunch stop at a fish taco stall. As we climbed out of the urban area and up into the hills, the next rain was already on the horizon. Oh man, we really didn’t feel like pitching our tent somewhere in the dirt at the side of the road and kept going until we reached a petrol station. We hoped to find a roof over our heads or at least a dry place to cook. In response to our rehearsed question as to whether there was a place to camp here, a friendly petrol station attendant replied no. It was too dangerous at the petrol station because of the trucks, but she would be happy for us to camp under the canopy at her house. Out of politeness, we briefly tried to decline the offer, but then gladly followed her colleague’s car, which showed us the way to our sleeping place in the dark. What was that again with the travel recommendations😉?

While the rain pattered relentlessly on the tin roof, we cooked our supper in front of her house and later slept soundly. In the morning, the sandy village road had turned into a mud bath and we were glad that the way back to the asphalt was short. Although we were still on the wine and cheese route, we soon saw no more vines but barren pastureland and diverse cactus forests. In a small restaurant on the road, we just wanted to have a quick late lunch. Instead, we had to be very patient until the lovely owner finally served us the disappointing burritos and quesadillas after an hour. As it was already getting dark at 4:30 pm, it was now too late to continue our journey and we were allowed to spend the night in her backyard. Blaring music woke us up at 5 a.m. when a distant neighbor tested the maximum setting of his sound system for half an hour🙄.

Speaking of patience: the car and truck drivers on the Baja California were as considerate and courteous as they had last been in Japan! Even the heavy trucks slowed down and crept along behind us until there was a suitable route to overtake. Wow! The people were also incredibly patient when they spoke to us (or we spoke to them). They talked extra slowly and clearly and put up with our language experiments😊. On the other hand, we had to be very patient when a long queue of customers with full shopping carts waited in front of the only open checkout in the supermarket and the cashier scanned the items in 10-second intervals. Nobody complained, everyone took their time!

Back to the travel report: After the uninvited wake-up call, a long descent took us for the first time to the sea at Cortez and to the small town of San Felipe. Here we filled our bellies with delicious pastries (Mexico has really great bakeries!), our bottles with water (there are filter systems in every village) and our bags with some food. There was little infrastructure to be expected on the upcoming stages. In a small hamlet on the coast, we would have liked to have taken the last opportunity for the time being to eat a Mexican lunch. However, the prices and the menu, which was geared towards the needs of the many Americans and Canadians spending the winter here, failed to excite us so much that we preferred to eat tortillas, bean puree and cheese from our supplies before the desire for a coffee lured us into the nicely decorated restaurant. And this turned out to be an absolute stroke of luck!

We chatted to the American owner and power woman who ran the restaurant in the background. When she asked us how far we were planning to pedal today, we couldn’t tell …until we find a suitable campsite somewhere. Would we like to spend the night at her place? She was currently living alone in her beach house; the beds were freshly made and there was hot water for showers. Hmmm, after a brief discussion in Swiss German, we were only too happy to accept this tempting invitation. All the more so because a lot of rain had been forecast for the next few days. As soon as we accepted, we were able to make ourselves comfortable in the guest room with a view of the sea and access to the beach. The next morning started with a colorful sunrise and it actually felt strange not to continue under these conditions. When it started to rain after midday and didn’t stop for two days, everything was fine again😊. Once again, we were incredibly happy and grateful to have a dry spot. Although it wasn’t completely dry. Because it never actually rains in this region, the leaks in the roof were showing for the first time in years and it was dripping from the ceiling everywhere😊. Although it wasn’t just our formidable accommodation, it was Lisa’s company that made our forced break so enjoyable and unique. Many thanks again, Lisa!

Almost overly rested, we cycled on after three nights, now finally with sunshine and a tailwind! The view back over the ridge of the island showed snow-covered mountain ranges…
It was a good thing that we were so motivated and full of energy. Because although the distances between the supply options were quite long, we rolled so energetically that we never had to carry water for several days. The only things that sometimes slowed us down were the enormous saguaro cacti and many other exciting plants. We stopped frequently to take photos and spent many nights camping in a botanical garden, so to speak. It became barren and monotonous before and after Guerrero Negro, where we followed a power line for days on a flat, straight road. The oasis of Mission San Ignacio was then a pleasant change. Every day that we pushed further south, the climate became a little more humid. Oh dear, did it really have to get tropical already? But no, we don’t want to complain about our sweat-soaked tops (yet), because it’s going to get a lot hotter and more humid in the foreseeable future😉.

An asterisk on our paper map, to the west of the village of Loreto, aroused our interest: San Javier. The guidebook hardly said a word about it, which made it even more exciting. What’s more, the asphalt road there could be combined with an adjoining sandy track to create a sensible route. Without hesitating for long, we followed the signs to San Javier in Loreto. A partly (too) steep road led us up to the small village with the oldest mission church in Baja California. It was a good thing that the vendor at a coffee stand in Loreto had informed us that a big, three-day festival with lots of guests would be starting the next day in San Javier. Accordingly, we were overtaken on the way by countless pick-ups, some loaded with half the household. When we reached the village, its streets were already lined with market stalls and every available space was used for camping or parking. Although it was soon getting dark and the food on offer looked particularly tempting, we definitely didn’t want to stay in the village, as we certainly wouldn’t have slept a wink here at night. So, we covered the first few kilometers on the sandy track and pitched our tent in the bushes.

Knowing that we were in for a dusty, busy ride, we set off early the next morning. It was quiet at first and we only came across a few pedestrians… in the middle of nowhere! We made slow progress on the sandy track and were delighted that after ten kilometers (and over an hour’s ride) we were able to stop at a ranch for coffee and empanadas (delicious filled pastries, here with goat’s cheese 😋). Riders and their accompanying vehicles with horse trailers arrived almost every minute. The atmosphere was so cheerful and relaxed that I gradually began to feel more positive about the 60 kilometers of track ahead. I had absolutely no reason to be annoyed by the fine sandy dust when over 100 pedestrians and 500 riders had just made a three-day pilgrimage along this road to the Grande Fiesta in San Javier. After a refreshing coffee break, we continued our dusty ride and really enjoyed the hustle and bustle. It was unimaginable how so many people, horses and vehicles could fit into the already packed San Javier! Apparently, a total of 10’000 visitors came to celebrate in the 155 soul village of San Javier.
In the afternoon there was less and less traffic, but that didn’t mean we were any less dusty. We spent six hours cursing, rumbling and sometimes pushing through the sand on the dirt road until we finally reached the asphalt road. My mood was temporarily as sour as my legs, but both recovered quickly.

By the time we had coffee the next morning in Ciudad Insurgentes, the worst of the dust had been washed off or knocked off and the exertions forgotten. Only three more days and a final crossing of the peninsula separated us from our destination in La Paz. It was a not very spectacular route along power lines and under overcast skies. Rare villages or individual restaurants determined the rhythm of our breaks and determined where we could spend the night. Because of the many fences, wild camping in the bush was not so easy. However, we would have slept better there than behind a restaurant. Trucks thundering through the village all night with engine brakes reminded us that we rarely sleep well near a main road. Oh well…

But we didn’t need to be reminded that predicted rainfall on the Baja California is to be taken seriously. Just in time for the next rain front, we reached the city of La Paz, where we had booked accommodation for the first time in a year and a half (back then in Bali). Luckily, it poured indeed all night without interruption.

We left it up to the availability of ferry tickets to decide whether we should take the ferry directly from La Paz to the mainland or take a round trip to the southern tip of Baja California. Contrary to our expectations, the shipping company answered our reservation request by e-mail immediately and assured us a place on the next cargo ferry. Great, so we didn’t have time to visit the southern cape of Baja California, which seems to be populated primarily by wealthy North Americans and their eighteen golf courses. To be honest, we weren’t sad about that at all.

Although it was still raining heavily this morning, we had no choice but to leave our dry room, wait in a coffee stall for better weather and finally pedal to the ferry port during a rain break. Unexpectedly, everything was well organized and worked out perfectly. We were able to buy our tickets, rolled onto the deck an hour before departure and enjoyed a good meal alongside all the chauffeurs (included in the price). Apart from Robert and Delaney from Alaska, who are heading for South America in their jeep, no other tourists are traveling on this ferry and certainly no women. It’s no wonder that there’s loud snoring and moaning in the armchairs in front of us in the sleeping area! Instead of getting annoyed, I use the sleepless night to prepare this report. Meanwhile, the ferry takes us quietly (as far as the swell is concerned😉) towards the Mexican mainland.

An impression of Mexico: nice people, a cheerful atmosphere, considerate drivers and delicious food made it easy for us to quickly get used to the less pleasant aspects such as lots of garbage, barking dogs, mediocre hygiene and bad tap water. In short: we like it!