Tag: travel

Rides Around: Love Bug

Edgar, Travel

We’ve received some great feedback on the “Baja Down the Baja” posts.  Thank you all for your comments, and for coming back week after week for the next day’s adventures.  We’re working on the final leg of it now, and have some great information and pictures to share with you this weekend.

The comments on the TSY page and the Facebook page have given us good insight.  This community enjoys interesting vehicles, and particularly Volkswagens.  This was also extremely evident during our trip, as people would honk and hoot and photograph the bug as they saw us roll by them on the highway.  So we’ve decided to feature a different rig weekly, and would love some participation from the tribe.

I’ll go first, but if you see a cool ride, please snap a photo and tell us about it.  If you have a special connection to your personal mode of transportation, we’re interested in that story too.  Maybe it has a name.  Maybe you remember your first car, your dad’s truck, the plane that dropped you in the Amazon, or that bike you always wanted and finally got.   It’s great to see how folks get around, and hear the stories behind the ride.

The first rig we want to feature is the “love bug”.  We found this flowery ride cruising the streets of Bucerias in Nayarit, Mexico.  It appeared to be a daily driver for the man behind the wheel, who was not afraid of expressing himself.

The Rig: 1960 something Beattle

The Location: the main drag of Bucerias, Nayarit

The Driver: a sensitive stranger

The Special Circumstances:  We were in a bug, when we spotted this bug, and appreciated it along with a guy driving behind it, who was also… in a bug.  Random VW parade.

Edgar~

Everyday Adventures

Edgar, Travel

Traveling and adventure are defined by our perspective.

Indiana Jones had some of the most marvelous adventures that an on-looking thrill-seeking adolescent could ever imagine. When he wasn’t teaching class, he kept us captivated by roaring through the jungles in paramilitary vehicles, rescuing people in peril, and claiming booby-trapped riches for himself; what a wonderful existence.  It makes us wonder what his average day was like. Was it hum drum monotony around the university?  I don’t think so.  I believe he found wonder in it.  Professor Jones did not get bored because of his perspective, not his profession.

Most of us live fairly routine lives, and certainly all of our lives are common to ourselves.  We are used to our own activities, and this can be misunderstood, by us, as boredom.  This can lend to looking for greener pastures, and distract us from appreciating the beauty and adventure we are surrounded by daily.

A lot of us take on a different persona on vacation.  We appreciate a meal, are more outgoing, linger at a sunset.  Why not do that daily?  It’s free. It’s fun, and it’s simple.

Just a slight redirection of light, and the form is changed.

Taking the baja down the Baja: Day Three

Travel, Yoga

Note: This is a recap of Day Three of our journey driving a ’68 bug from Sacramento, CA to Sayulita, Mexico.  You can catch up on day two here. 

We had a nice breakfast with our Philippino friend and innkeeper, and headed to the bank to get some cash.  We were surprised to find a bank south of San Diego didn’t offer withdrawals in pesos, which we normally would have ordered in advance.  No matter, we got USD knowing we’d find an exchange place closer to the border.

There are a few tricky things about taking a car into Mexico from the US.  You need Mexican insurance and a temporary vehicle permit if you plan to go to the mainland.  It’s not required for Baja, so some travelers might be in for a surprise after driving around Mexico for a while, then deciding to cross on the ferry or drive around.  Permits are required, and you’ll need to be near a border crossing to get one.  To save yourself some hassle, look up the nearest temporary vehicle permit office to your border crossing city.  Check their hours too, as you don’t want to get stuck arriving just after closing.

Once you find the office, you’ll need to turn in your paperwork. You’ll need originals of your title and registration, and then copies of your driver’s license, passport, and tourist visa, all in the same name as the person responsible for the vehicle. You’ll pay a fee and a deposit to have your car in the country.  This deposit is refundable when you take the car back out of Mexico within 180 days.  The office will give you paperwork on this, so it’s best to read and make sure you understand the agreement.

We found out that this vehicle office used to give the individual temporary visas too, but stopped doing that at an undetermined time, which apparently took place prior to our arrival.  We were directed to go to the Tijuana airport to receive those.  I’m referencing those little sheets you fill out on international flights, and that are checked at customs.  Just because we didn’t fly in didn’t mean we didn’t need them, and the airline would need to see this when we flew out.

We headed to the airport without really knowing where we would go when we arrived.  We asked a couple of folks and got pointed in the right direction.  The paperwork required a small fee, of course, but we paid it, showed our passports and were on our way.

Edgar had received a recommendation for lunch at Hotel Rosa in Ensenada.  It was another gorgeous setting, with a breeze off the water, an infinity pool, and a bountiful supply of chips and guacamole.  With a locale this pretty, I couldn’t help getting into a few poses, and even got Edgar in on the action.

Our bellies full, we headed to the car… which again would not start.  We checked the wire that had given us trouble the day before, and it was holding solid.  Edgar did a little more investigating, and then I noted that it was making a clicking noise when he tried to start it. Once he heard that, he grabbed a hammer and had me try to turn it over while he hit the starter — boom.  Success.

We were headed to San Quintin, but stopped short when dusk fell and followed a sign toward a beach hotel in Camalu.  The road was bumpy and littered with stray dogs and a few horses.  No hotel in sight.  Just when we thought we should turn around, we spotted a large 2.5 story building (the third was in progress) with one lone dog out front.  Tell me, does this place look open for business?

Well, we were wrong and it was warm and inviting, with lights on and music playing when we opened the door.  Emmanuel recommended the lobster with vegetables.  He even allowed us through a back hall and into Room 12 so we could select our own.  Check out my plate — this was just my half!

I stuffed myself silly but couldn’t finish it.  We asked Manny to put our leftovers in the fridge.  We found a “parking spot” under the balcony and settled in for the night.

Miles traveled on day three: 195 (with a few hours paused at the border)

On day four, we drove through a swarm of bees and met an old radio DJ named Fibber McGee, who just happened to tell us the truth….

 

Taste Travels

Travel

Note:  One doesn’t have to travel to enjoy the sensation of it. That concept is brought to life in this guest post from author Kate Riley. 

Every time one of the family goes to Mex I crave jicama. I peel and slice a nice specimen, place in a freezer bag, add fresh-squeezed lime, red pepper powder or flakes, cumin, a dash of salt, shake and I’m on the road from Puerto Vallarta to Sayulita.

My precious friend, Clara, introduced me to this Mexican cuisine years ago.

She is originally from another small coastal Mexican town and is one of the hardest working, bravest women I have known.  She’s a warrior for freedom and a spectacular cook of traditional Mexican fare.

Travel is a wonderful event. Someone goes and it ignites the mind of one staying home eating jicama.

~Kate Riley

First Trip

Edgar, Travel

Since I can remember I have looked for the truth.  In this, I have not readily accepted what people tell me as fact.  I like proof.  I want fact, but I prefer it w/ data.  This has led me to “challenge authority”.
This has put me in an interesting group, slightly outside the herd.  I have lived on societies’ fringe, at the edge of firelight’s glow.  This has made me a seeker, a traveler, and made me search for the truth.  Like other travelers, what I seek is an understanding, but unlike many, I understand this has a price and accept the ride, and its lesson, is worth the cost of admission.

I remember running away from home for the first time.  I was about 5.  I had a disagreement w/ some level of authority at my house. I acted on the emotion provoked by this circumstance, threw on my spider man costume (it was just after Halloween), packed a bag, and hit the road.

We lived on five acres, and out on a rural route.  I headed down the drive and then North.  I went for what seemed like forever, and finally came to rest in the neighbor’s lawn.  I remember the grass was cool, as I sat in it, w/ the sun setting.  I opened my bag, and took out some candy to eat.  My first meal on the road was fabulous.

As I sat in the cool grass, eating sweets, in that solitude I felt a grand independence and peace. I was alone, and apprehensively excited about what lie before me.  I was at the edge of the firelight, excited about exploring the dark.  In this, I found peace, and an appreciation for my soft warm bed.

I packed it in, and returned home from my first journey.

I returned w/ a new understanding of life and self.  Since this, my wanderings have grown, but they are still filled w/those deep and colorful thoughts and feelings.

Travel thrills me and continues to enrich my mind, spirit, and soul.

Edgar~

Taking the baja down the Baja

Leigh, Surfing, Travel, Yoga

To really tell this story, I must first tell you how the Green Meanie came to be.  Edgar and I had been to Sayulita quite a few times, and each time paid a pretty steep amount to rent a car.  You pay for the rental, but also for the Mexican insurance (check out VdM), since your insurance in the states is not accepted there.  This addition doubles the cost of the rental.  We talked about how it would be nice to have an older car there just to run around to restaurants, surf breaks and the airport… maybe something like a VW bug.

The idea sounded good, and it quickly moved from mere conversation to an internet search, and to a specific seller who appeared to have just the thing posted on Craig’s List.  It was green, mean, a little beat up and a lot loud.  It was a baja bug.  Our new friend had been working on it with his grandfather, and had even taken a trip to Mexico in it already.  It fit our needs and the price was right, so we made the deal.  The seller even towed it to my house, since my stick shift driving now is weak at best, and at that time, was non-existent.

I kept the bug at my place for a while, and taught myself to drive it on weekends.  I practiced taking it to the gas station, waving folks around me as I stalled at lights.  Edgar came to visit and we added gas and water cans, a high-lift jack, shovel, pick ax and all-terrain tires.  We ordered a few spare parts, and then a couple more, and stocked up on zip ties and black tape.  A stall mat made for a handy back seat cover, and I got my first drilling experience putting in some second-hand head rests.  We threw in some floor mats, ammo boxes for the glove compartments, and made sure we had a gallon of oil at the ready.

The Green Meanie was ready to go home.

Day One:

We left Sacramento with a back seat filled with tools and backpacks, and a roof rack topped off with surf boards.   I thought people might give us a second glance, but we were surprised to see how much people were really digging it.  We saw lots of thumbs up and plenty of cell phones out for photos as we rumbled down the highway.

Our first stop was Santa Cruz and the Ripcurl store.  Edgar wanted to pick up a wet suit for the cold pacific water, and I found a shorty that would be perfect a little farther south.  Our rig was drawing attention in the parking lot, so we figured we’d let people know where they could read more about our travels, and borrowed a sharpie from the shop.  We wrote our web address on masking tape and slapped it to the back windows on both sides.   Cheap, but effective.   (We actually have TSY stickers, but I neglected to bring them along, so the tape had to do.)

Marketing at its finest

We stopped every couple of hours for gas and to check the oil.  The gas gauge was sort of a guide, but not an exact one.  If it got to half, that was more like empty.  Did I mention we had a big gas can on the side?  We were prepared for long stretches without a gas station, and for pretty much daily guesses at how much we had left in the tank.   For a trip like this, the proper mindset is key.   Even though we had a mechanic go through it before we hit the road, (thanks FIDS of West Sac!) we understood there might be challenges, and we were ready to roll with them.

The first evening was a chilly one, and we threw on a few extra layers as we cruised into Ventura.  We knocked out about 400 miles for our first day, and we were pretty pleased.  We had hoped to find a restaurant open, but Saturday night was surprisingly sleepy, and we ended up ordering pizza in.

Day two began with a shocking theft, and moved on to a strange encounter with a surfer who sold coffee out of a VW bus.  Stay tuned….

Morning in Sayulita

Travel

Note: Contributor CK sent us this reflection upon her mornings in Sayulita.  If you’re not familiar with this creative little (for now) surf spot in Nayarit, Mexico, you can read more about it here. 

The collection of noises that follow the arrival of the sun are too many to count.  The birds provide the background upon which all other chatter occurs.  Chickens crowing, various indigenous birds chattering, warbling, cawing….

The insects also contribute, providing a consistent hum, carrying about their daily activities despite circumstance.  The stream gurgles to my right, occasionally interrupted by a creature crossing its path and stalling the flow.

At this time in the day, the noises from human development are slowly beginning their crescendo.  Construction picks up as countless buildings are constructed.  Commuters, like the insects, build up a hum of traffic, also bound to continue their days despite circumstances.

In the soft illuminating light, the voice of the people eases into the symphony of morning noise as the day begins.

-CK

3am Travels

Travel

(Note: TSY is excited to share this moment of self-reflection from new contributor Marie.  )

 

These 3AM travels provoke a certain kind of wanderlust that’s only found in a few of us.  It’s all about embracing the journey and engulfing every single moment that you have, with the people you love most, or by yourself.

I’ve spent quite a lot of time traveling by myself.  The solitude is a sanctuary for self-discovery and understanding.  There is not much that is more significant than learning about yourself and the way you work, so you can improve and develop in both interactions and understanding.

Embrace the suck.  It’s all chingon, hermanos.

-Marie

How to Ride in a Car Like a Child

Travel

Note:  We’re celebrating our contributors with a double dose of fun today!  If you’ve ever traveled with young ones in the car, you might think they’ve been coached by Jules, a young writer who knows just what (not) to do on a road trip with your family. 

During a road trip:

Ask “How much longer?” right as the car starts. Repeat question every five minutes the entire trip or until threatened by parent. When your sibling says they’re hot, instantly state that you’re cold. Continually poke said sibling, and when they smack you, cry. Whine that you’re starving, and when your parents stop and get you food, take exactly one bite and proceed to drop the rest in the car. Remember to stash the trash in every available cup holder. Immediately afterwards, announce that you don’t feel good. Promptly roll the windows down on the highway. When the car is on a deserted road in the middle of nowhere, suddenly have to use the bathroom.

At night:

Have boundless energy. Bounce around, talk loudly, and kick the back of your mom’s seat. While your dad pumps gas, don’t forget to try your very best to slide open the minivan door. Make sure to point and shout every time you see a plane. When you arrive to your destination, become suspiciously tired and have to be carried inside.

On the way back from the beach:

Be sure to track sand into the car. Once inside, shake your wet hair like a dog, splattering the windows. Then, start off the trip back by crying about your sunburn while stubbornly ignoring the fact that your mother told you wear sunscreen. Make sure the fish you smuggled in is still in its bucket of water. When the car turns, spill the water out of the bucket. Cry about the death of the fish. When you reach your house, notice that you left your towel at the beach.

On the way to an important event:

Slowly crawl into the car because you want everyone to be late for no reason whatsoever. Once inside, violently squirm in your seat because you are uncomfortable in your fancy clothing, resulting in you spilling juice on your sister’s white lace dress. After being yelled at by parents, sit quietly the rest of the way. Then, right as the car is pulling up to your destination, realize you aren’t wearing shoes.

-Jules