Heading towards Baja is always on the top of my mind. This time I was going to a birthday party for a relative. His children were celebrating his 70th. birthday. What made it more inviting was that the celebration was taking place in the small village of San Antonio de Las Minas in the route of the wine, El Valle de Guadalupe. This lovely valley produces 90% of the Mexican wines. Some of the wineries are renowned for their national and international awards. The blog entry of the party and wine tasting is for my next posting. Here I want to concentrate on our return to the USA.
On our return home I suggested to my wife that we return via Tecate, a town bordering east San Diego County. Many years before we had been to Tecate we fondly remember it's central park, warm people, book stores, it was clean and inviting. Our drive was wonderful, the natural surroundings gave us the opportunity to unplug ourselves from the grind of the urban centers. Slowly we left the open fields behind as we entered the town of Tecate. We followed the signs to the border crossing. As I made a right turn on the main street that takes us to the border crossing an uneasy feeling poured over me. The street was full of traffic police, perhaps ten or more, stationed every hundred yards or so. All lazily sitting on top of their motorcycles on both sides of the street. The scene was similar to driving in any large urban city and with out realizing, you end up in the middle of a gang's turf.
It wasn't long before one of Tecate's finest pulled me over. "Can I see your drivers license and registration.", he barked. As I handed him my California license and registration I asked, "What's the problem?" "This license is no good!", he responded. "Do you have a Mexican license?", "No". "How about an international license?" "I only have that license.", I responded. "Oh, this one isn't any good here amigo" this was followed by long, embarrassing pause and silence. That's the cue for you to pull out some cash and offer the infamous mordida. "What law did I allegedly break?", I insisted. "Well, you went through a stop sign." "What stop sign?", I replied. " Oh... and you don't have your seat belt on". "I unbuckled the belt to give you my license". "No, you didn't have it on" long pause, another cue for the mordida. I reiterated that I broke no traffic law. "Well... you need to follow me." "Where", I asked him. "To the delegacion to see the judge", he responded. It is well known that when an officer of the law restricts your movement, you are under arrest. He didn't seem pleased that instead of offering a mordida I requested his name and badge number. Officer Adolfo Solapaz, badge # 665585 took me to the delegacion. That's when I noticed that the majority of cars being pulled over had one thing in common, American license plates.
This entrapment reminds me of the angler's term, trolling. The practice of fishing up and down a certain identified area where you know the big fish are. In the traveling world we know it as targeting turistas.
Once in the delegacion, an unimpressive bunker style type of building, I took a seat and waited for Oficial Solopaz to fill out what looked like a traffic ticket. I asked if I could have a copy and he said I didn't need one. He escorted me to the cashiers window. I protested, "wait, where is the judge?" "Oooh you want to see the judge ". He shouted at three individuals, two men and one woman, who were chatting and having coffee at the end of the hall. "Which one of you wants to hear this case?" "These are the Adjudicators?", I asked myself, because, they were dressed more like janitors that judges. The woman replied, "I have a few minutes I'll take it." She then asked me to follow her.
We entered a small office, the size of a broom closet with a metal desk, a sleeping cot and two torn chairs. "Is this the court room?", I asked. Also asking her, "Are you the judge who will hear my case?" She replied, "Sit down! what do you want?" I asked what were the charges against me and where was the accusing officer. She read the ticket and said, "You know what laws you violated, I see you didn't have your seat belt on." As I tried to explain she interrupted me and started laughing. "Do you know how much you would have to pay for this violation on the on the other side?". I tried to tell her that I always wear my set belt and I have never been stopped for this, therefore I wouldn't know. She continued laughing and called the guard at the doorway, "tell this man how much he would have to pay en el otro lado".( in the US) "Oh, ha, ha como quinientos dolares.", (about $500. dollars) the guard responded. I quickly realized that this jurist had more make-up than brains. Therefore, the prudent thing for me to do was to get out of there ASAP.
I proceeded to the cashiers window to pay an $80.00 dollar fine. As I stood in line, I noticed that this Pantheon of justice was barren of their statues of liberty and justice. The pictures of Mexican heroes, famous jurists, slogans of Mexican pride and pictures of government officials were all replace by a few colorful calendars from local markets, restaurants and bars. As I was paying the fine, oficial Solopaz with a smirk on his face asked me, "como le fue?". I responded, "This is why there is no tourism in Tecate. You are chasing all the people away and in the long run everyone suffers." "That is your opinion.", he replied. "Yes it is and I for one will never return to spend my dollars here", I told him.
My experience in Tecate reminds me of the legendary cryptid animal chupacabra, which is said to inhabit the northern parts of Mexico. It lives by sucking the blood of goats, according to legend it to comes out at night, but I have seen it in daytime, sucking the dollars out of tourists in Tecate.
My advice to all you who love to visit Baja as much as I do, stay way from Tecate. Take the wonderful toll road from Ensenada all the way to the border. Buen Viaje.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Temecula wine tasting trip - part 2
As we drove the smooth, natural terrain, I saw in the distance feathery grasses in fusion with boulders and chaparral giving way to Bobs' favorite cheese factory. We arrived at Winchester Cheese Company, an unpretentious farm, with goats, cattle, geese, chickens and dogs. Jorge felt right at home. " It reminds me of my Rancho Delicias, back in Mexico," I heard him say. He went straight to the corrals with Bob following him to play and pat the animals.They fell in love with a brown and white goat and a goose that followed them everywhere. They were pretty mellow now, frolicking with the livestock. Seeing them at ease and in good spirits, reminded me of Saint Francis of Assisi who also loved animals, Being around them gave him happiness and tranquility. Studies suggest that that patting and loving animals causes your brain to produce oxcitosin which restores your inner health, strength and fills you with kindness towards animals and your fellow men. Here was proof: they were happy as larks, their earlier squabbles were all forgotten.
The cheese making process was closed and the only cheese available was a hard aged Gouda. This was a major disappointment to me because Bob had been instructing us on the finer points selecting and tasting cheese. " I took a class in Italy ", he said and considers himself to be an amateur fromager, an expert in the art of selecting cheese at the peak of perfection. Jorge told us not to worry, he would take us to Henry's, another excellent establishment which carries a blue-ribbon assortment of fine cheeses. He was right: it proved to be an excellent outpost for all kinds and varieties of cheese.
Temecula is an "eco-chic" town with gentle rolling hills wrapped in brown/green veils of majestic grape vines. Now at the budding stage, it won't be long before the grapes mature and are ready to harvest. The burgeoning wine industry has made room for numerous wineries all along California Rancho Road where you can easily find most of them. One word of warning from Bob, "Preparation is essential." True to form, he made a list of the wineries he was interested in visiting and the kinds of wines he wanted to taste. Jorge, on the other hand, knew which kind he wanted to taste. He said, " The vintage, taste and the year are more important to me no matter what the price is! ". For me, I was in a learning expedition with the masters so it was all good.
We followed Bobs list of wineries which were all wonderful structures: chalets, estates, cottages, mansions, villas or ranches. Each establishment had its own distinct artistic and architectural design and all had productive fields of grape vines.
At each winery we paid a fee ranging from $10.00 - $12.00 dollars for about eight "tastes",secured a nice table and took turns describing the flavor and rating. Some of the nicer wineries even present you with the tasting glass as a souvenir. We enjoyed: Syrah, Viognier, Gewurztraminer, Malbec, Pinot Grigio, Sauvignon Blanc, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Fume Blank, Chardonnay, Zinfandel and Tempranillo. Bob was very descriptive and exquisite in explaining what he tasted in the wines. Jorge, contrast, was more to the point. He knew what he liked and what tasted good to him. He was not impressed with aromas or subtleties; earthiness, berries, oak, buttery, dew etc. " If I like the taste I buy it, "no importa lo que cueste!", he said and he did.
After a few more wineries we noticed Bob was no longer interested in tasting wines. He just sat and reading brochures, reminiscing of his visits to the wineries of Italy. I suggested that we have a late lunch, a suggestion to which they eagerly agreed. After a pleasant conversation over lunch, we each made a list of the wines we would be purchasing. Then we headed to S'yrneh Jorge's favorite Winery and Retats Brothers, Bob winery of choice. We stocked up for a few weeks. On the way back, a quiet drive. Three sages, of the third age, headed home.
The cheese making process was closed and the only cheese available was a hard aged Gouda. This was a major disappointment to me because Bob had been instructing us on the finer points selecting and tasting cheese. " I took a class in Italy ", he said and considers himself to be an amateur fromager, an expert in the art of selecting cheese at the peak of perfection. Jorge told us not to worry, he would take us to Henry's, another excellent establishment which carries a blue-ribbon assortment of fine cheeses. He was right: it proved to be an excellent outpost for all kinds and varieties of cheese.
Temecula is an "eco-chic" town with gentle rolling hills wrapped in brown/green veils of majestic grape vines. Now at the budding stage, it won't be long before the grapes mature and are ready to harvest. The burgeoning wine industry has made room for numerous wineries all along California Rancho Road where you can easily find most of them. One word of warning from Bob, "Preparation is essential." True to form, he made a list of the wineries he was interested in visiting and the kinds of wines he wanted to taste. Jorge, on the other hand, knew which kind he wanted to taste. He said, " The vintage, taste and the year are more important to me no matter what the price is! ". For me, I was in a learning expedition with the masters so it was all good.
We followed Bobs list of wineries which were all wonderful structures: chalets, estates, cottages, mansions, villas or ranches. Each establishment had its own distinct artistic and architectural design and all had productive fields of grape vines.
At each winery we paid a fee ranging from $10.00 - $12.00 dollars for about eight "tastes",secured a nice table and took turns describing the flavor and rating. Some of the nicer wineries even present you with the tasting glass as a souvenir. We enjoyed: Syrah, Viognier, Gewurztraminer, Malbec, Pinot Grigio, Sauvignon Blanc, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Fume Blank, Chardonnay, Zinfandel and Tempranillo. Bob was very descriptive and exquisite in explaining what he tasted in the wines. Jorge, contrast, was more to the point. He knew what he liked and what tasted good to him. He was not impressed with aromas or subtleties; earthiness, berries, oak, buttery, dew etc. " If I like the taste I buy it, "no importa lo que cueste!", he said and he did.
After a few more wineries we noticed Bob was no longer interested in tasting wines. He just sat and reading brochures, reminiscing of his visits to the wineries of Italy. I suggested that we have a late lunch, a suggestion to which they eagerly agreed. After a pleasant conversation over lunch, we each made a list of the wines we would be purchasing. Then we headed to S'yrneh Jorge's favorite Winery and Retats Brothers, Bob winery of choice. We stocked up for a few weeks. On the way back, a quiet drive. Three sages, of the third age, headed home.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Temecula wine tasting trip - part 1
Rain crept into southern California dragging in cold winds and poor road conditions, ideal for traffic problems. It remained with us for about two weeks incarcerating my friend Bob in his humble abode, a pseudo-craftsmen residency, twenty four hours a day. His driveway was turned to muck and sludge, forcing him to remain interned in his roost. His only lifeline to the outside world was the computer and telephone to call friends and acquaintances. Robert called me to grumble about the rain and cold, his voice agitated, " I hate this! I can't get my newspaper or do my morning walking to the doughnut shop. What am I to do? " I listened... commiserating with him. After a while he said goodbye and excused himself to boil some water for his te de manzanilla, chamomile tea. It's supposed to be great for his morning constitution.
The following day Jorge called informing me that he had just spoken to Bob and that he was going Kafkaesque with cabin fever. But if the next day was sunny, I was invited to accompany them to Temecula. Apparently Bob is very familiar with all the wineries. He considers himself to be a faux sommelier. Additionally, being the ladies man, he frequently gallivanted the wine country in search of romantic settings. He also knew a number of cheese tasting establishments. "We just need to get Bobby out in the fresh air and sunlight," Jorge reiterated.
That next day, the weather forecast promised a beautiful sunny California day. Jorge was at my door step promptly at 8:30 am and we headed out towards San Jacinto where we would rendezvous with our friend, Bob. He arrived a short time later with a handful of maps, driving directions and a klatch of wine coupons. He was in excellent spirits and raring to get going. After the usual hellos and hugs, Jorge bellowed, " You don't need all that chingadera. I live here. I know where were going!" He added, " Why did you bring all those stinking coupons. Don't be a tightwad, It's embarrassing..." Bob, obviously shocked at this unanticipated treatment answered, " Hey cabron!, I'm driving here! I have my route all planned out. If you don't want coupons, don't take them. " After that hyper-excited exchange, I cautiously chose the back seat to behold the two A-type personalities in the front. There in nothing more comical than two old, bald, retired Alpha-males trying to be the pack leader. As soon as we got to the first turn, another vociferous exchange began. Each one wanted to take a different route to get to the same place. Jorge growled "I told you I know this area better than you, I live here! How can you tell me which way is better". Bob replied, "I been to Temecula many times, I have the maps, I'm driving and it's my car!" Jorge shouted "Oh yeah well this is the last time you get to drive" This type of dickering continued for at least 25 minutes. Being the youngest, brightest, healthiest and most handsome of the group, I felt compelled to intervene. I needed to restore order and calm them down. I was concerned because they were now shouting at each other: their eyeballs protruding from their eyes sockets, face crimson red, the blood vessels on their forehead swelled and vascular bundles in their necks throbbed as if on the verge of coronary thrombosis. I politely asked them to stop. when that didn't work, I chastised them into submission. "Look at yourselves! you are on the onset of a grand mal seizure". I ordered them to drink some water, gave each few ice cubes to cool their foreheads, directed them to take deep breaths and shake hands. I decided that we would take Bob's maps and follow them since it was his trip. Jorge muttering under his breath, reluctantly agreed. The rest of the drive was wonderful, quiet and peaceful... at least for a while.
Stay tuned for "Cheese and Wine Tasting - Part Deux"
The following day Jorge called informing me that he had just spoken to Bob and that he was going Kafkaesque with cabin fever. But if the next day was sunny, I was invited to accompany them to Temecula. Apparently Bob is very familiar with all the wineries. He considers himself to be a faux sommelier. Additionally, being the ladies man, he frequently gallivanted the wine country in search of romantic settings. He also knew a number of cheese tasting establishments. "We just need to get Bobby out in the fresh air and sunlight," Jorge reiterated.
That next day, the weather forecast promised a beautiful sunny California day. Jorge was at my door step promptly at 8:30 am and we headed out towards San Jacinto where we would rendezvous with our friend, Bob. He arrived a short time later with a handful of maps, driving directions and a klatch of wine coupons. He was in excellent spirits and raring to get going. After the usual hellos and hugs, Jorge bellowed, " You don't need all that chingadera. I live here. I know where were going!" He added, " Why did you bring all those stinking coupons. Don't be a tightwad, It's embarrassing..." Bob, obviously shocked at this unanticipated treatment answered, " Hey cabron!, I'm driving here! I have my route all planned out. If you don't want coupons, don't take them. " After that hyper-excited exchange, I cautiously chose the back seat to behold the two A-type personalities in the front. There in nothing more comical than two old, bald, retired Alpha-males trying to be the pack leader. As soon as we got to the first turn, another vociferous exchange began. Each one wanted to take a different route to get to the same place. Jorge growled "I told you I know this area better than you, I live here! How can you tell me which way is better". Bob replied, "I been to Temecula many times, I have the maps, I'm driving and it's my car!" Jorge shouted "Oh yeah well this is the last time you get to drive" This type of dickering continued for at least 25 minutes. Being the youngest, brightest, healthiest and most handsome of the group, I felt compelled to intervene. I needed to restore order and calm them down. I was concerned because they were now shouting at each other: their eyeballs protruding from their eyes sockets, face crimson red, the blood vessels on their forehead swelled and vascular bundles in their necks throbbed as if on the verge of coronary thrombosis. I politely asked them to stop. when that didn't work, I chastised them into submission. "Look at yourselves! you are on the onset of a grand mal seizure". I ordered them to drink some water, gave each few ice cubes to cool their foreheads, directed them to take deep breaths and shake hands. I decided that we would take Bob's maps and follow them since it was his trip. Jorge muttering under his breath, reluctantly agreed. The rest of the drive was wonderful, quiet and peaceful... at least for a while.
Stay tuned for "Cheese and Wine Tasting - Part Deux"
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