The 83 Pueblo Magico towns of Mexico may very well be enough of a reason for a visit to the country. We have previously visited several, including Alamos, El Fuerte, and Creel just last year. Recently we relished our time in Loreto and Todos Santos, finding ourselves completely intrigued and enchanted by stepping back into time to experience hand formed cobblestone streets and woodbeamed ceilings. Wanting to escape the city, it was time for a little magic.
We are, of course, always “home”. When you live in a tiny house on wheels, home is, literally, wherever you park it. However, among all of the amazing places we have visited around the world, Puerto Vallarta is our most often visited, and one place we really feel like we are coming home to.
Well, I’m going home, back to the place where I belong
And where your love has always been enough for me
I’m not running from, no, I think you got me all wrong
I don’t regret this life I chose for me
But these places and these faces are getting old
So I’m going home, well I’m going home
Yesterday someone commented on a blog post I did, telling me, in effect, that I was a whiner. I spammed his comment, not even bothering to engage in any sort of dialogue with such nonsense, but it was actually a perfect setup for this post, which I’ve had in mind for sometime. The fact of the matter is, life on the road is just that. LIFE. There are good days and bad days and cranky days and ecstatic days. As we have gone along we have shared so many stories of wonderful times and pictures of magical beaches and exciting adventures. While all we’ve shared is absolutely accurate, there is another side to overlanding…. the other reality.
We had to escape. San Diego was sucking us dry emotionally and financially and with the addition of a rainy weekend forecast, we knew it was head out or lose our minds. The answer: Joshua Tree.
San Ignacio, that lovely oasis of date palms. A wonderful respite from the surrounding desert landscape. It is easy to find you have lost several hours in the streets of San Ignacio. We wandered the grounds of the town plaza and Mision, once again extremely appreciative of the appeal of the “old”.
I am now fully certain I am not a desert person. Although I can appreciate the stark beauty and dramatic contrast, a more lush foliage speaks to me and is where i feel at home. Driving down these many miles of dusty roads, with only cactus for company, I have begun to long for the tropical heat of the mainland. Imagine, in the middle of all of this desert the thought of finding beauty in unexpected places.
BEER. We had been dreaming of beer. Now, don’t get me wrong. Obviously Mexico has plenty of beer. But we hail from the land of the brewpub, from a city with more brewpubs per capita than any other. We were dreaming of craft beer and we were not to be denied! Luckily for us, we found beer and Loreto!
I’m not entirely sure what I expected of Baja. I did know I was looking for that Special Place. That salty piece of land where I felt totally in my element. While the search may still be continuing on some levels, El Coyote Beach surely came close.
I was trying to focus on “long breathing” while holding my yoga pose, thoughts of aging on my mind. Unfortunately, my posture was made more challenging as Porter poked his nose under my arm and decided to squirm in and settle between my hands on the mat. Lulu’s voice kept reverberating in my head “if you’re feeling irritated, it means you’re doing it right”.
One of our very favorite parts of travel is the characters we meet along the way; all interesting, all with their own story.
