It is great to hear the coyote’s howling around our camp. Because of the relatively small and scattered human population on the Baja, we are remote enough to hear the coyote’s calling to their neighbour’s nearly every night and early in the morning.
They put the wind up Gael one morning at the site we now call Coyote Camp. Gael had beaten me out of the truck for our morning walk, and had been gone about fifteen minutes when she heard the Coyote’s start their morning blood curdling howls all around her. Fearing she was about to be the meat in a Coyote sandwich Gael burnt rubber getting back to camp.


Last night at Turtle Beach (so called because of those nesting), a camp in a very remote and dark spot, I was surprised to see a set of headlights heading our way up the bush track.
I was concerned about our loss of privacy, if who ever it was plonked beside us, rather than any threat of personal harm. But I did become a little concerned when the vehicle stopped within a meter of the truck with it’s headlights shinning on us.
Best to grab the bull by the, I think its genitals, isn’t it, in a situation like this. I leapt from the truck into the headlights glare calling out “Hola, Australian tourist”. “Hola” (Hello) being one of the handful of Spanish words we know. And “Australian tourist”, because to be thought to be an American (Gringo), could in my mind be inviting the blast from a shotgun.
As my eyes started to adjust to the light I became aware first guy in camouflage clothing, and then the biggest machine gun I have seen in a while came into view. Blurting out “Australian tourist” again, I shot my hand forward in what I hoped was a friendly gesture, and hoping not to be mistaken for a drug runner waiting for a drop on a remote Mexican beach. After a hand shake from the guy with the biggest gun, poorly executed charades from me as to whether it’s OK for us to sleep where we were parked, and much shining of torches up and down the beach, we were left alone again.
We saw a Whale Shark cruising the shallows as the sun was rising the next morning. Quite special anywhere, but more so here, considering the flogging the waters get around here from the commercial fishermen. You wouldn’t think there would be a decent sized prawn left for a Whale Shark to suck on in these waters.


There are army road blocks every couple of hundred k’s on Hwy Mex1 the main drag down the Baja. All are armed, and many have sandbagged bunkers with heavy machine guns mounted. The truck camper is opened by Gael at each of these checkpoints so that it can be given a quick search. Many towns have the visible presence of soldiers driving their “Hummers” around town, with the roof mounted machine guns being very visible. They take this drugs business very seriously down Mexico Way.


The Baja Peninsula has a north and sud (south). The south Baja and it’s beaches are appallingly hot and humid at this time of year. Traveling north again we cross the border between the two states and all of a sudden you can breath again, and your clothes aren’t soaked with perspiration anymore. The influence of the Pacific ocean on the west coast climate is amazing given that this peninsula is only as wide as a fly’s smile.


We hit the USA border at Tecate again with our fingers crossed. No worries! New (three month) visa issued and off to Long Beach to find a shipper for the truck.