Yesterday was full of the kind of tasks that one tends to find themselves engaged in, as a sailor in a new port...we officially "checked in" to Mexico, went on provisioning runs, and of course, partook in a variety of local food and beverages.
We are docked at the Baja Naval marina, at which the dockmaster Roger has been super helpful. He basically got most of our paperwork in order for us before we went over to immigration and gave us a quick tutorial as to the check-in two step we would have to perform to get all the proper
documents. The office itself is set up with windows for all of the different agencies that need a stamp or whatnot, immigration, customs and the Port Captain. Plus a bank window at which you pay your fees. So here's the dance...immigration, bank, immigration, Port Captain reception, Post Captain fee taker, customs, bank, copy kiosk, bank, customs. It was a little like the DMV...stand in line for interminable amounts of time to talk to supremely annoyed people who glare at you for not having all the documentation in exact preferred order (bank lady, I'm looking at you), then get your ticket to freedom and waltz out the door. Here's the funny thing, though...this is supposed to be an easy place to check in. At most places, and here until a few years ago, the offices aren't in the same building. So all of this is accomplished by a mad dash around town and could take a whole day. We were out in two hours, so I'm thanking my lucky stars. And dreading the next time when it's not that convenient.
So on to our provisioning run! Ahh, the grocery store. I love grocery stores. I could spend hours
in them and often do, puttering around to look at all of the exciting offerings. I have been known to dance through the grocery store when a particularly sweet musak station is on much to Chris's dismay. So at our first Mexican supermercado, we had a ball looking at all of the new exciting food items we could try...we skippped the shelf stable milk with vegetable oil added, but got some without. Tiny mexican limes, coconut flavored cookies in a giant box, and delicious queso oaxaca (and no, it does not escape me that as a longtime California resident, I could have gotten these things at any time at a latin grocery. Still.) But the item of greatest mystery and wonder was a package of thin steaks labelled vampira res. Res means beef. Vampira? I'm envisioning sparkly, stone faced incredibly beautiful bloodsucking butchers. Chris thinks it's from a cow that killed by the chupacabra. We'll take your suggestions...
So then I had my first Spanish pantomime experience. On the prowl for toothpaste, I was utterly lost among deodorants and foot powder. Someone asked if they could help me, and I stared at her blankly at a loss, then bared my teeth and used my air toothbrush to indicate my needed product. "Para cepillar mis dientes?" (To brush my teeth) She looked at me sympathetically, and then called to a coworker who ostensibly spoke
English. "Toothpaste?" I asked. "What do you need?" he responded. "I need toothpaste." He looked unsure. "Para cepillar mis dientes?" I repeated my hand motions. "Brush?" he said, and led me to an aisle a little farther down. There, on the shelves, was Colgate and Crest in ten different flavors. I looked at the boxes, and in little print at the bottom, there was my vocabulary word of the day. Pasta dental.
So we're getting ready to head off into the wild blue for our longest sail yet - we're thinking 2-3 days. Stay tuned!
We caught these little guys trying to catch a ride with us - attached to our anchor chain. Baby sea urchins.
those look awesome
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