I am cranky and cold back home in Alta California after a tedious 13-hour drive north (and I very nearly wasn’t able to cross the border to get back into the United States because I grabbed an expired passport. A part of me was hoping I’d be turned away at the US-Mexicali border because I just want to return to Baja pronto! Was it appropriate to see the huge Mexicali iron fence on the anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall, or what? Maybe someday we can tear this wall down too.
Surprisingly, the border patrol accepted my expired passport that I had written void across the front pages with a big sharpie marker. He explained to me that even a voided passport was valid, because there was no way I could get it unless I was a US citizen. The last time I was in Mexico was with John Oliver Simon in 1987. A lot has changed. San Felipe is unrecognizable. My aunt owned a barren lot there for decades. She won it in a card or bingo game. Wish we had it now.
Paul Hardstone‘s wife owned a place in a fancy development in San Felipe, that she needed to check up on, so it was a mad weekend dash all the way from Oakland. We were there for the jumbo prawn festival. Everywhere people were selling barbecued prawns the size of sausages, and I couldn’t even eat one of them because I had developed an allergy to shellfish.
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