La Paz

I feel cursed by the things that happen to me, but blessed by the convenience with which they happen.

But first, an update.

After a genuine Canadian breakfast at the B&B in San Ignacio, I rode south along the Sea of Cortez to Santa Rosalia. I spent a few hours lunching with an American traveller before continuing south to Mulege. While exploring the small, colonial-style town, a transplanted Californian retiree invited me to a friend's backyard barbecue. I struggled to communicate in Spanish, but capably did my part to remove the roasted swordfish and ample spirits.

The following day, I rode a beautiful 130km seaside stretch of road to Loreto, a European inspired town of about 3,000 people. In the only campground, I met a resident British Columbian guitarist, Marc and his visiting friend, Brad. Marc was one of the hundreds employed by a developer attempting to turn Loreto Bay into the next big Mexican tourist destination. He graciously invited me to a lasagna dinner at his brother's house, not far from my tent.

Spending two days in Loreto afforded me the opportunity to write that clever first sentence. Enroute, one of my gear shifters started misbehaving. Having rebuilt it before, I thought I'd have a look inside to see what I could do. Long story short, I ended up doing more harm than good. By blessed coincidence, Loreto was the first town since Ensenada with a bike shop. By even greater blessed coincidence, Manny, the mechanic, had a 20 year old shifter that worked flawlessly in replacing mine. He didn't even charge me a penny. Muchas gracias, Manny.

Rolling once again, I spent two days riding the dregs of the desert and the Sierras Gigantes(Sierras means mountains) into the southern capital of La Paz, pop. 400,000. After exploring the downtown, I scouted a $16 hotel and resolved to forgo the immediate mainland ferry for the Monday afternoon trip. I spent Friday evening at The Dock restaurant with another displaced Canadian friend, Stefen. Thereafter I spent a few hours at a popular night club, La Casa de la Villa, being serenaded by a really adept Spanish rock band blasting hits by CCR, The Who and Guns n' Roses.

Stefen drove me to the beautiful Telacote Beach where I spent most of Saturday afternoon before returning to town to see an amazing late night performance of Mexican Banda music. Afterwards, until 1am, I sat on a bench on the seaside Malecon, marvelling at the similarities between La Paz's main drag & Richmond St. West in Toronto.

Tomorrow, I'll embark on an 18 hour overnight ferry ride to the mainland town of Mazatlan. Soon thereafter, Guadalajara, Mexico City, who knows what else?