Today we went on the beach at Rosarito and ate churros.

We were somewhat north of the more touristy end of town, and most of the people there on this sunny Sunday afternoon were Mexicans.

The machine that made the churros was delightful:

Now isn’t that something? The Churro Maker turns the big steering-wheel at the end to force the dough through a nozzle that shapes it into a sort of multi-pointed-star cross-section. The long wiggly worms come out and drop into the first and biggest bowl which contains deep hot oil.

The churros are taken out and drained in the second bowl and then coated in sugar in the third bowl. Nifty or what?

Here is our bag of hot churros fresh from the machine:

And I can tell you this is definitely the way to eat churros – hot and fresh from the pan. They are light, crispy, sweet and lovely!

Goshies, has it really been a year since I updated this Rosarito site? Yes it has – and an approximate year either – a year to the very day. There must be some fate in that, don’t you think?

I am sorry not to have updated in all this time! I will try to be better.

I am also sorry for not approving or responding to y’all’s comments. For some reason they never made it to my inbox. I’ll look into that. And now I am having trouble making them appear.

Well, I’ll get to all that directly.

Right now I want to talk to y’all about Rosarito buses. You may never see the inside of a Rosarito bus. No, scratch that. You have seen one right now:

This is one of the little runabout buses that will take you up and down town and to the nearby little towns. As you will gather, they are not exactly like buses in the States.For one thing, they are not exactly squeaky clean and in perfect aesthetic condition – although there are long-distance buses that are up to American standards with air conditioning and TV. More comfortable but less fun. Preferable for a longer trip though!

For another thing they are not uniformly “corporate”. Each bus is impressed with the personality of its driver. This one, as you see, displays Pooh and Tigger (probably colored by one of the driver’s many children) and also has a – well a mural – painted above the windshield showing this very bus (no. 17) tootling around the mountainous countryside outside Rosarito.

Here is a close-up:

You may find this horribly messy and undisciplined or adorably cute. Personally I go for the latter interpretation.

Some buses display “official” instructions like don’t stand up front beside the driver or please have exact change. But unlike their American equivalents, such signs are entirely at the driver’s discretion and reflect his personal preferences. Some of them are printed out on a computer printer and look quite official. Others are written on the reverse of the back panel of a corn flakes box in ball pen or marker. Most buses don’t have them at all.

The fares on these buses are very reasonable. 75c will get you anywhere in the local area (including various small towns outside Rosarito. You also need to know how they work. When we first came we would dutifully walk to the nearest bus stop – often quite a little hike. After a while, we realized that this is completely unnecessary. You just hail a bus wherever you see it – like a taxi. Also you ask the driver to put you off wherever you want to get off.

The bus stops are there purely for decorative purposes.

And they are in fact quite decorative. Each bus shelter has a lovely image of the sun above it, freshly placed there this year for the tourist season.

There are also other forms of public transport in Rosarito. There are the big “taxis” which really operate like buses. They carry several people and ply up and down the main drag, some going as far afield as Tijuana. You hail them (just like a bus) and get on. They will put you off where you want (just like a bus) but you can’t tell them where to go. They are more frequent and slightly more expensive than the buses – they will cost you around ten cents more.

Then there are real taxis. If you pick one up on the street it will take you anywhere in Rosarito for around $2.50 (25 to 30 pesos is the going rate – if they try to charge more, you are being gringoed). You’ll pay more for a cab that you call to your door though.

Today we experienced the delights of getting a delivery of propane gas and our first real taste of authentic Mexican rannygazoo.

We were given the number of the gas company with whom we apparently have a contract (as a household) so as the gas was running low we rang Star Gas and quoted our contract number. They told us that the gas would come in a couple of hours, and sure enough in a couple of hours, along came a gas truck.

It backed up to our yard gates and the hombres ran a pipe from the truck to the big gas tank out in back. It was all rather exciting I thought.

They asked how much gas we wanted and I had no idea so they suggested we fill the tank and I said yes.

This turned out to cost a large amount of money. We gave them all our pesos which were supposed to last the week but that wasn’t enough and we had to give them lots of dollars too.

Our neighbor, who speaks very little English, came to help out and told us that a) this was not Star Gas whom we had called but some inferior gas company and b) filling the tank was a very bad idea as it is a whole year’s worth of gas (we have only contracted to stay here for three months – we might move on after that – though now I guess we’ll have to stay here to use up the gas) and very expensive to buy that much (this last part we had already guessed).

Well at least I know the secret of my eternal youth now. I am born every minute.

My Spanish seems worse when I am actually trying to speak and hear it – but I think that is because I really don’t understand Practicalese. When I visited Germany, Austria and France with a friend, I knew more French and German than she did, but she found it much easier to communicate with hoteliers, shopkeepers and everyday people in general, because she knew what they were likely to be saying, whereas I had no idea.

To be honest a conversation about anything practical in English strains my powers of comprehension near to their limits. To try to talk in two foreign languages at once – Pracitcalese and Spanish – is quite beyond me.

I told my friend once that I find it easier to understand people in the Deep South than anywhere else, and she said “That’s because they talk real slow.”

I am afraid it is true. The old button “Natural blonde, please speak slowly” is not a joke in my case. At least when anything involving the physical universe is under discussion.

Shopping in Playas de Rosarito – as in the rest of Mexico – is more economical if you use pesos. Fortunately it is easy to withdraw them from an ATM. One good tip is to use an HSBC ATM – you find these in various shops, such as Calimax as well as at HSBC branches. These are good because they give all instructions/options in English as well as Spanish.

We decided to try one of the local buses to get to the town’s Walmart store. They are very easy to use, though like many Mexican things, a shade “informal”. For example you may wait at a bus stop and a bus will hoot at you as it approaches to ask if you want to board. Stand up and make some sign of willingness and the bus will pull over. Fares are cheap – 9 pesos from where we are to Walmart (which is a pretty long walk). There and back for two of us was 32 pesos – a little under $2.50.

Less economical was Walmart. Ibuprofen is rather expensive in the local pharmacies so we thought we should try Walmart, but it is little better there. It may be a national thing to do with pharmacy regulations. I would strongly recommend you come with a large bottle of boopers if you use them. But we also found sunblock very expensive there. Unfortunately we found it nowhere else so we stumped up. Later we found a good sunblock in Solo un Precio ( a dollar store) not for a dollar but for about a third of the Walmart price. One lives and learns. Well, one lives, anyway.

On the plus side we found some of those lovely Mexican buns that are frosted with sugar in what look like ancient Mayan patterns. I call them Aztec Sugarbuns but it is entirely possible that this is not their actual name.

They are usually 7 pesos each but they were selling 10 for 20 pesos (around a dollar and a half). Here are all ten – and believe me I had to photograph them quickly to capture the entire ten uneaten.

We asked a taxi driver what he would charge to take us home and he wanted 100 pesos. Being rather tired we didn’t even stop to haggle. 100 pesos is absurd for a short drive. Who does he think he is – a tube of Walmart sunblock?

You may have heard stories of huge inefficiency and poor infrastructure in Mexico. I have to say that this is not our experience so far.

The hombre de telefono y broadband came and installed our internet inelambrico (wireless) a day earlier than arranged (they said it might be early and it was). It is working perfectly and it is not expensive compared to American services. I have to say that since I am pretty dependent on having a reliable broadband connection, this was one of my main worries in coming to Mexico. So far I have to report that these worries seem to be groundless. But I’ll let you know if that changes.

Doing business in the bank did not involve long waiting – we went right in and talked to a sensible, efficient account manager with enough English to make business practical.

Everyone has a water dispenser

Is the water drinkable? Or is undrinkable Mexican tap water another myth? I am firmly told that it is not. Not a myth and not drinkable. Everyone has a large water dispenser – a little like an office water cooler – containing a large bottle of purified water. Water is also safe once it has been boiled – so you can make tea or coffee with water from the faucet.

This evening I went to meet some of the local expats at a United Society of Baja California restaurant tour. The USBC is the umbrella organization for the various expat societies here. We met at the Ikeda of Japan restaurant, where the Society had arranged a very excellent deal on a set menu consisting of:

Appetizer: miso soup or house salad

Main course: chicken & beef Teriaki and shrimp tempura; or beef teriaki, Chicken Katasu and shrimp tempura. Price: $8.50 (drinks and tips extra),

This was excellent value even by Rosarito standards, as the Society had arranged a group deal.

Getting to the restaurant, however, turned out to be something of an adventure for a variety of reasons. First, I had been told the restaurant was called Mikeda of Tokyo, when in fact it was Ikeda of Japan. Second, the taxi driver spoke no English at all. Third, I forgot our new telephone number and did not bring that of the organizer.

The result of all this was that we ended up taking the Grand Tour of Rosarito and arriving about an hour late. In the course of said Grand Tour, we went back to the taxi driver’s house to collect his wife, who speaks a little English (and has a little more savoir faire than the taxi driver, or, to be fair, the self).

This involved seeing a side of Rosarito foreigners probably often don’t see. An area not far short of a shanty town. The taxi driver’s house was entirely made of pieces of plywood and tin nailed together – either that or it had once been made of more conventional house-materials but had been patched so often with pieces of plywood and tin that none of the original structure was now visible.

Still he proudly announced it as “mi casa” as is entirely proper. Mi casa is sacred, whatever earthly materials it may be made of.

Finally we got there and despite the huge delay the meal was still in session. It consisted of a large number of people at different tables. I spoke with the organizer. He asked me if I wanted to meet new people and I said yes. He told me to take a seat on any table and I did.

As luck would have it I was seated next to the president of the USBC and his very charming wife. They are a really delightful couple. At the end of the meal I found I could not pay by credit card (I am finding that this is common in Mexico and one has to carry more cash than one may be accustomed to) Since the taxi had turned out unexpectedly expensive and I still had to get one home, I was unable to pay the check. Mr Weekes, the President, immediately lent me 200 pesos, having no idea who I was. He also drove me home.

His wife, Linda, is a delicate beauty who seems to belong to a finer age and I found their company utterly engaging. Mr. Weekes wondered if I was Dutch as he perceived me to have a slight Dutch accent. Actually the extent of my experience of Holland is an hour and a half in Amsterdam airport. But I am continually being identified as Thai, Indian and all sorts of things. When I went to a Lebanese restaurant my escort was given the menu in English while I was presented with the Arabic one.

G.K.Chesterton said “When people stop believing in God they don’t believe in nothing – they believe in anything.” Similarly I think, not being an earthling at all gets one taken not for no kind of earthling but  for any kind of earthling.

Well, the month of May is not out and we made it. We are  living in a little green house in Playas de Rosarito, Mexico.

I saw the Pacific Ocean for the first time as we drove down from Tijuana where we had flown in. It was every bit as beautiful and breathtaking as we had hoped and now we are living in a house where we can literally see it from the gate and walk to it in under a minute.

Here is a picture I snapped this afternoon:

At the top of our street is a shopping area, and as we will not have a car much of the time, we decided to stroll up and see how walkable it was. We found that while there is a tiny convenience store half way up our street, the walk to the main shopping area is by no means onerous. We are within a very short distance of several stores including a dollar store, a Red Cross thrift store and several regular markets, restaurants and taco stands. The dollar store stocks all-pink M&Ms as well as Butterfingers, so I feel that our fundamental needs are catered for. There is also a Cruz Roja (Red Cross) thrift store with lots of old clothes and second-hand books, mostly in English.

When I say “dollar store” I mean more or less exactly that. The stores (there are several of them around) sell goods at 13.60 pesos, which is the conversion rate for a dollar when the peso is strong — or do I mean weak? Anyway it is about the most pesos you would normally pay for a dollar. So usually you will be paying a few cents over a dollar.

The house is very security-conscious – it is surrounded by a high wall with a locked gate and there is a double front door – first a security screen that doubles as an insect screen and then a proper door. Both fitted with security locks. Burglary is clearly a problem, as is common in areas with much poverty the world over, but security is correspondingly well catered for.

We had tacos for lunch after our shopping/exploring. These were a dollar apiece (twelve pesos) made from fresh meat and ingredients with salsa and guacamole. Eat your heart out Taco Bell! The proprietress did not speak a word of  English and we ate in a funny tin enclosure off the street. It was a lot of fun.

We have cable internet in the house which expires at the end of the month. We have arranged a new contract. We don’t need television and we do need wireless internet. That begins in a few days, so (knock on wood) we should have no downtime. The prices are very reasonable and compare happily with American ones. So far we have found the service reliable.

If you have questions about Playas de Rosarito Mexico, please pop a comment below and I shall be happy to answer to the best of my ability.

This site is all about life in Rosarito Beach, Mexico, just seventeen miles from the good old US of A and in the other California called Baja.

You are probably wanting to know what are my qualifications for telling you about this place, and I am going to be straight with you.

Absolutely none. I have never been there. In fact I have never even been to the West Coast. The furthest West I have ever been is Beaumont Texas, right by the Louisiana state line.

Oh and just to put the frosting on the fajita, I am not even an earthling. I come from another world altogether. But I’ll tell you all about that some other time. My English is pretty good so you’ll probably be able to understand me.

What you want to know now is why I have the unmitigated gall and effrontery to write a blog telling y’all about a place I have never even seen. Well, what can I say? I have decided to live there. I’ve read up about it on the Earth-Wide-Web. And to be honest I was disappointed. There isn’t much that is very helpful about what it is like to actually live there, temporarily or permanently. How does it look? How does it feel? What do the local earthlings do?

Since nothing I found really seemed to answer my questions to my rather demanding satisfaction, I decided to answer them myself  – just as soon as I started finding some answers.

But right now – well we aren’t there yet. I keep shouting are we there yet? and the answer keeps coming back: No, you silly alien, we aren’t even on the airplane yet.

Sooo – I shall tell you that Baja California sounds like the most fascinating place on earth! It is a long narrow strip with the famous Pacific Ocean on one side and on the other the less famous Vermillion Sea. It is more commonly known as the Gulf of California or the Sea of Cortés. But I think Vermillion Sea is so much prettier, don’t you?

I have never even seen the famous one – the Pacific Ocean, and I am absolutely popping to!

I’ll tell you all about it as soon as I get there.

Lots of love,

Alien Girl Kinoko