Saludos from Bahia de Concepcion, Paradise Found in Baja California Sur!

a beautiful woman stands in front of her beautiful VW bus


“Slow down!” yells some gringo in a massive Class A as I plod along the beach at a place called Coyote Playa in our Bus. I can honestly say I’ve never been told to slow down in this old four cylinder.

Typically, I would yell something back. Maybe stop to do some hand flailing. But I am supposed to be working on my temper, and so I simply continue my 15mph pace as we leave the overcrowded beach. RenĂ©e wants to try out a bar called JR’s about a mile back up Mexico 1.

Though the menu is large, they’re out of carne y pescado y just about everything except for shrimp. So we and our traveling companions, the Mali Mish familia, well, we eat camarone. Es bueno.

We decide to camp at one of a few open palapas across the street at a campo named El Burro. Men in pickup trucks sell empanadas, fruit and tamales each morning, and we partake. One night Dan, the figurehead of the Mish crew, and I linger at JR’s, local ex-pats from the U.S. and U.K. chat us up, we do too many shots, and stumble home.

a young boy sits in the shotgun seat of a 1978 Volkswagen Bus, Champagne Edition, Riviera Campwagen
Luka may love the Bus even more than we do…

The sun rises and sets with every minute between a pristine view of crystal clear water. Occasionally some other travelers in Vanagons or truck campers come to chat us up. We realize that many of the people we see are repeats, the same groups are more or less traveling at the same speeds as we are, stopping at the same spots.

an old truck reads rica nieve, selling ice cream on a remote beach
Though we’re in the middle of nowhere, an ice cream truck appears like a mirage in the desert.
children eating chocolate ice cream cones in Baja California
When the truck comes back in the morning, the kids eat ice cream for breakfast.

A kayaker in a Vanagon we met back in San Ignacio turns out to be our neighbor just south at Playa Pearla. A couple of retired Canadians from British Columbia who we met at a garage in Guerrero Negro arrive just before or after us at each spot from there to here. We are a traveling community of strangers becoming friends.

The final morning on this bay we all study birds, a juvenile little blue heron, a magnificent frigatebird. Gulls and terns and pelicans, and more turkey vultures than anyone cares to pay attention to. A sea lion shows off a little just offshore. The water is glass and the days finally blazing hot. At night, a fire will keep you hot, or the night breeze persuading you to wear an extra shirt or two.

a fit young woman, even two children later, emerges from Bahia de Concepcion
We find time to swim.

Life is as close to perfect as ever.