Beach in the Bay of Concepción

La Paz (Baja California Sur, Mexico)

I left Los Angeles for the same bike lane that took me to college for two years. Once on the coast, I turn south following for two days the beaches where surfers practice their sport no matter the time of day or the temperature of the environment.

I left the United States for San Diego to enter Tijuana in Mexico. I was told long ago about the charms of that city, but I found very few. Tijuana is a kettle of people who come and go, a city that lives from and to the border. The streets are full of consultations of dentists (with treatments well below what is paid on the other side of the line), pharmacies (with discounts on all kinds of medicines, including the magic blue pill) and less glamorous premises (where to make use of the pill).

As I moved south, the populations were becoming smaller and the tourists were scarce. The footprints of the missionaries remain alive in the toponyms. It is difficult to think of a sacred name for Catholicism that is not present on the map of the Californias, the Alta in the United States or the Baja in Mexico. Only in a few dozen kilometers along national road 1 that runs through the peninsula pass through Rosario, El Rosario and Rosarito.

The Baja California is hard for cyclists, the terrain has a lot of relief and the great distance between populations forces to carry water and supplies, but it also has great rewards such as the immense desert landscapes or the lonely beaches of blue and green waters. Twenty-two days after leaving Los Angeles, I arrived in La Paz, the capital of Baja California South. From here tonight I'll take the ferry to Mazatlan.