Border Run

This is not being written from a Mexican jail, nor am I being held by the Border Patrol for smuggling midget wrestlers into the country. We made it back safe & sound. Thanks, ETS, for watchin' the place.

T & I had decided to go south of the border to celebrate her birthday. Actually, the festivities had started on Friday night with dinner prepared by moi - no, it was not macaroni & cheese - & a dessert of crepes, also prepared by yours truly. The apartment was subtley lit with candles & lanterns & looked pretty nifty. And, the food ended up being edible, which was a plus.

We left for Mexico late Saturday morning, originally looking to get a hotel room in Rosarito (about twelve miles past the border), but couldn't arrange any reservations before the trip. Since we didn't want to get there & then end up having to settle for a roach motel, we opted to find a room in San Diego & then take a coach on down.

We made it about ten miles from the border before finding a room. And spent an hour trying to do that.

After touring Imperial Beach trying to find a place, we then decided to go to Tijuana (T had never been there) on Saturday & then on down to Rosarito on Sunday. We made it to TJ about 3p & were met with a mix of oppressive heat, rancid odors & a ton of vendors, ready to sell us anything from necklaces to pharmaceuticals to lap dances.

One walk down one side of Revolution Blvd through all that was enough fun for us. We had lunch (& survived!) & headed back after a couple hours, laden with the fruits of our bartering & haggling.

It was after we got back that we realized that another trip down was going to leave us extremely short of funds. We chose to putz around San Diego on Sunday & then head for home. That night we went down to the beach & watched the sunset while walking through the surf & collectiong shells. It was gorgeous out there. And I had T by my side, which made it that much better.

We found a church in Imperial Beach the night before & made plans to visit it Sunday. When we got there in the morning, it became apparent that the place wasn't going to be packed. T jokingly commented that there would be fifteen to twenty people there.

Counting us, there were nine people. Yes, nine.

This was also quite possibly the world's longest, slowest sermon. Ever. The other seven members were very nice, but the pastor had a very monotone voice that threatened to put T & I into a coma. He kept referencing the "visitors," which made us kinda stand out a bit. Then came Communinon. With what appeared to be real wine.

Or reeeeeally old grape juice. And given the size of the congregation, it didn't seem that they'd be replenishing the juice & wafers too often, so it's quite possible.

After that, we made our way to San Diego & strolled around Horton Plaza for a bit. The Plaza, for those that don't know, is a huge, four or five story open air mall. Every manner of store can be found there. It's like TJ with set prices.

After all that we made our way back on home, with stories to tell about being harrassed nearly to death, a baja blanket & a few sea shells. We plan on trying to actually make it to Rosarito next time. It's supposed to be nicer than TJ, which isn't hard to do. My closet is a nicer place than TJ.

Smells better, too.