August 2001

Heading back over the border, we handed in the landy export papers to US customs before carrying on to San Diego to look for some cheap surfboards. After trawling through loads of shops where they call each other 'dude', we managed to find a couple of boards which seemed to suit our needs. It was late so we spent the night at the bottom of a cul-de-sac in a posh San Diego neighbourhood near Nob Avenue.

Returning triumphantly to Baja eager to have Bill, the old surf guru, cast his expert eye over our new boards, we were dismayed to find that Barrys board had a small split in it that needed repairing. This wasn't too bad as the ever helpful Bill showed Barry how it was done. Unfortunately, going for a swim the next day we found the water was about 15C which is barely better than Scarborough. So, back to San Diego to buy some wetsuits. Then, on Friday Barry discovered another hole in his board. We seemed destined to be stuck here for ever but at least we now know everything there is to know about board repair despite never getting wet. Eventually, 5 days after first entering Mexico, we escaped km36 campsite and left Bill the ex hippie free climbing, tight-rope walking surfer to his Tai Chi and his ex coke dealing neighbour.

We drove south to Ensenada just in time for the latin delights of Saturday night at El Squid, which restored our faith in the future likelihood of oil changes. At last a place free of American tourists where we enjoyed the evening practising our merengue (much needed!).

Leaving Ensenada, the next stop was La Bufadora blowhole followed by a hot drive east to San Felipe, a small fishing town on the Gulf of California coast with a fantastic beach and warm waters.

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