January 12, 2008

White Dog was unprepared for the turn our happy little vacation took into hell. After stuffing ourselves with the remaining groceries (or at least most of them), we spent one last time strolling in the Ensenada sunshine along the wharf. Then we hugged, made promises, loaded into the cars, and headed to the Tijuana border crossing. We got lost in town (the signage was impossibly small or invisible)! The Mexican police directed us into a line which (like all) inched forward at a maddening pace. Hours later we were at the head of the line--the wrong line--and were in potentially big trouble for being there. We were sent off to a special search area and questioned about why we were using the "Special Permit" Crossing. The USA Security guys didn't seem to care that we had been directed there and they threatened us with a $5000.00 fine for being where we shouldn't have been. Finally, they let us pass..."with a warning." Michele will never drive into Mexico again, I am certain. Tim and Michele headed for the San Diego airport where they discovered they were fogged in until Sunday noon. (They ended up renting a car with two fellow passengers and heading for LAX where they were able to get an earlier flight Sunday morning. They spent the night in the terminal). It was 1 am by the time we made it to Tucson and crashed. White Dog's barely able to keep her eyes open.