Tijuana

Tijuana is wild. We navigated to our chosen hotel, Spanish phrases prepared, but the man behind the counter spoke English. We reserved our room for the night and ate our first real Mexican food in the attached restaurant. The waitresses didn't speak any English so much fun was had ordering. We were hungry and the food was simple but good. Our entertainment was provided by a group of men who walked down the street with a tethered blimp sporting the name of the hotel and the weekday rate. They raised the thing as we were eating and we had no fear of losing the place after that. We could see the blimp from all over the city.

Wandering downtown we noticed, as expected, that Kat is quite the head turner. There aren't so many pale, red-haired girls wandering the streets.

Ave Revoloution is the tourist artery of downtown TJ. Hawkers stand outside every store, restaurant and bar demanding your entry. "Hey Amigo, It's so cheap it's almost free". "Come inside friend, buy your lady some silver". "Two for the price of one Margaritas, and I'll give you free tequila all day". Ok, that one got my attention. We wandered through a seedy concrete bunker, an empty late night dance-hall, and up a flight of stairs to the balcony above, where we ordered. A few minutes later there came a tray with four margaritas and two shots of tequila, a little container of lime and some salt packets. The drinks were weak, I suspect the Tequila watered town but the view was pleasent and we were out of the sun, so no one was complaining. Here we found out that we had arrived on the eve of a public holiday, Día de Independencia (independence day). The bartender assured me that the party would begin at midnight tonight and continue into the next day. Even on the balcony of the bar we were not escaped from people trying to sell us jewelry and flowers. A stern no gracias sent all but the most invasive seller wandering away.

Later that evening we left the air conditioned sanctuary of the hotel room to look for dinner. Somehow found ourselves at a sketchy looking diner, devoid of people with framed pictures of Marilyn Monroe all over the walls. The place looked like it belonged in a Tarrantino film, what was I thinking? Kat eventually explained that she was a vegan (no leche, no queso, no mantequilla) and we waited while they got our drinks, I suspect from a nearby grocery store judging by how long they took to arrive. Kat went to use their bathroom and came back with a horrified look on her face. I'll spare you the details except to say that the bathroom belonged in an sickening indie film. We managed to eat a only a little of the food before Kat felt ill and we fled the place. We were kept up most of the night by cars driving around, honking their horns, patriotic Mexicans hanging out the windows with massive flags.



Next morning we checked out of our hotel and I walked us to the cultural center, a concrete sphere. I'm still not sure why. The taxi's in Tijuana honk their horns as they pass gringos, indicating they are free and want a fare. That and you get attacked by the pastel yellow shirt army on the street, with their taxi's parked nearby, asking if you need a ride. But do you think we could find a taxi back into town? No, we had to walk for around fifteen minutes before finding one. We asked to be taken to Caesars, the birthplace of the original Caesar salad back in 1924. We ordered a few drinks and watched the waiter make the dressing from scratch, beside our table.

Here I am enjoying the salad.


Here is Kat enjoying smoking in a restaurant.


Viva Mexico.