Tecate December 28, 2018

I was at the Denver airport reading the departures board listing flights to many foreign and exotic places while waiting for my return flight to San Diego after visiting Boulder to see the Colorado Conservatory of Dance’s product of The Nutcracker when it hit me that I had not been out of the country all year. And that would just not do. But it was too late to try and put together an extended trip to a foreign land. So, the obvious option was a day trip to Mexico.

Living in San Diego, Mexico is usually an easy trip. We used to take surf trips to Baja on a regular basis – cross the border in the early morning, surf uncrowded waves at Baja Malibu or K 38, lunch on fresh lobster (complete with unlimited beans and rice and fresh handmade tortillas for around five bucks) at Puerto Nuevo and then back across the border and home by the early afternoon. Sometimes we would go down simply for lunch. I love Mexico, but in recent years it has become such a hassle crossing the border back into the US at San Ysidro with multi-hour waits, that I have fallen out of the habit of visiting.

Knowing about the lines at the border in Tijuana, I decided to give Tecate a try. Was really glad I did. The drive to the border was quite pretty once I got off the Interstate and onto the back roads, which wound through green hills past small farms and ranches. I parked on the US side of the border and walked across. Coming back into the US was seamless, only two or three people were in line ahead of me.

Tecate seemed like a real Mexican town, not a border town like Tijuana. In fact as far as I could tell, I was the only gringo in the restaurant where I stopped for lunch. Many Mexican towns, including Tecate, grow up around a zocalo or town square. My lunch restaurant was right at the edge of the square and afforded great people watching. There were families walking together enjoying the beautiful day, young couples obviously on dates and older men sitting on benches in the shade talking. A very peaceful and comforting setting. And with my trip being around Christmas, the zocalo was decorated to celebrate the season. 

It felt good to be in an unfamiliar environment and to practice my rudimentary Spanish. Am sure most everybody I encountered probably spoke better English than I spoke Spanish, but still I persisted in trying to speak Spanish to them, sometimes I think much to their amusement. Next year I will have to make a greater effort to spend time out of the US.