Andy and Brian’s Excellent Baja Adventure Part 3

2100 We come into the big city, Ensenada, with increasing numbers of stop lights and cars.  The population of Ventura County is 846,000; Camarillo 65,000; Ensenada and surrounding area is 280,000.

Departed Ensenada 2130 (did I tell you the bus displayed military time, and if the bano (bathroom) was occupied?

My seatmate spoke no English, and never learned to read or write, but in the end we were communicating and smiling by her home town stop. 

A third Gringo on the bus had crashed his motorcycle at 70 in the desert and broken his shoulder, preferring to head for his own doctor in San Clemente; he shared a meal with us, stayed off advil, but did use Tequila as his painkiller of choice.  We are still not sure how we make it from the TJ bus station to the border, whether to cab or walk through the alleys.  Hope it is a non-event. 

Turning away from the 5^th movie (or is it the 6^th) we reach the detour for the ongoing road repair (say, does that mean we are in LA?).  The crescent moon is close to half, so this ensures the Sauvage delivery boys will also have a brightening moon… unless they have coastal fog or a herd of Jack Sparrow's buddies that block the light.  Now we see lights and new high-rise condo's in Rosarita from the backside.  Past the toll booth, glad I didn't have to scramble for the toll change, and now onto the smoother highway, but we are now as we began from Turtle Bay, with but a few cars in the darkness. 

2300 Bus ride terminated in TJ at the bus terminal (now that makes sense).  Brian, adopted friend Motorcycle Crash Chris took a $6 cab ride to the border which we walked across by ourselves, grateful there was no line.  Customs recognized us for what we are; Gringos returning kind of stinky from some sort of recreation that the locals are smart enough to not do.  Brian explained that we had shortened our race, gone to Turtle Bay, and the rest of our unregistered crew were returning the boat.  I just said "I was with him" and they waived us through, past the relaxing dope dog who stayed relaxed.

Good we adopted Chris; he had a friend at the Jack in the Box on the US side, who dropped us at a hotel in San Diego, walking distance to the train station.  Happy with clean sheet, Brian produced a bottle for a night cap and it was sweet dreams off the bus, back in the USA.