MEXICO DE NUEVO! La Frontera, Guaymas and Los Mochis

Mexico again! Nobody seems to take much interest in me at the Nogales border so I roll through. Typical border town chaos surrounds the Astro – window-washers, trinket sellers, bootleg DVD vendors and insurance hawkers. The only Federales I see gather under the shade of roadside trees in their crisp navy uniforms, leaning against their shiny navy SUVs.  I keep on rolling, looking for the "Permito de Importación Temporal de Vehículos” and “Tarjetas Turistas” pull-off to make me and my van legal, but nothing. As I motor through the south part of town I get nervous, and pull over at a motel to ask. “Cinco milas mas” is the reply, meaning the customs office is way out of town. Nothing like all my online research and maps indicate. I’m still on track.

The gals line up for tourist visas

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Why "2010"?  I have no idea.

I get my pretty vehicle import sticker and off I head to Hermosillo and parts south. It’s a flat, non-descript terrain, and I put on a beautiful electronic version of Satie’s Gymnopedies No 1 to improve the mood.

The scenery changes dramatically as I take a right and head into San Carlos, just north of Guaymas. Here, raggedy peaks protect a cluster of blue bays and the dusty plains are left behind. Pleasure boats are moored at the many little marinas, and I find a place to get online and cool off. No foreign license plates here, and no English spoken. 

It's time to enjoy my favorite south of the border camarones en mojo de ajo (garlic shrimp), sip a Bohemia Oscura, and watch the pelicans swoop.

San Carlos on the Sea of Cortez



Guaymas inglesia

Guaymas is a medium-sized sea port and features the pre-requisite Mexican plaza with its white wrought iron gazebo and central church.



Guaymas waterfront

I welcome the familiar signs that I’m in Mexico: road side trucker shrines, Lady of Guadalupe murals, bumpy roads, the dreaded topes (road turtles that always pop up out of nowhere), copperware vendors, the smell of roasting chicken, gaggles of laughing kids and frisky doggies. The radio station blares a wonderful Mexican ranchero version of the Black-Eyed Peas’ “Tonight’s Gonna Be a Good Night.”  I’m all smiles.

Good Travels!



Don't drive sleepy!

Pedestrian crossing

Mexicans love ice cream

The Quinceanera, 15th birthday coming out party

Now it’s time to cross into Sinaloa state and Los Mochis, gateway to the Copper Canyon. I see the “Bienvenidos a Sinaloa!” sign, and immediately the land is greener and highway smoother.  Los Mochis is a hustle bustle town with many nice hotels, lots of traffic, big box and cell phone stores. I go straight to the Centro and park in front of the church and Best Western Hotel. It’s still screaming hot out, so I run into the hotel bar for a break. It’s full of business travelers doing the same. Not one foreigner. It’s not tourist season. I get a splendid air-conditioned room at the Corintios Hotel, watch a bit of dubbed Jennifer Aniston, and have a long, much-needed scrub after all the van-camping.

Next, I head to the Topolobampo ferry transportation office to buy my ticket and secure a cabin on the California Star ferry boat to La Paz. What seems to be a simple task takes several hours in Mexico. The sign says open at 7am, I arrive at the official sales terminal at 8am but they’re closed. A uniformed employee says “abierto a las nueve!”  OK, nine o’clock. I hang and read for a bit and at 9:30 a made-up, tight-skirt uniformed woman passes by and proceeds to a little unmarked door in the back. I follow out of curiosity, since I’ve been waiting at the official, signed front sales counter. I peek into the little back room and find it is indeed, the place to buy my ticket. I’m the only customer, should be quick and easy, but oh, the “vehicle measuring guy” will be here in a half hour. What!? They have to measure my van and each car that boards the ferry? Can’t they see it’s just a van, and easily under the over-length limit? OK, I wait some more. Eventually the smiley Senor Tape Measure shows and we get the job done together, chatting about this and that in Spanish, meticulously noting every detail of the van in question on his form. Hurrah! Oh but wait – now the sales women can’t find Washington State on the pull down menu. I look and only see Kansas, California, and Oklahoma. No other US states listed. This is curious. Finally the manager comes to save the day, does a little bit of computer magic and I’m good to go.

Next up: The Copper Canyon and California Star to the Baja Peninsula.