25 FEB - 28 FEB 2011
So our boring government gave the following advice - reconsider your need to travel to Ciudad Juarez, Mexicali and Tijuana due to the very high level of drug related violence. My answer to this, I did reconsider and found that $1.60 for a 1.2litre bottle Corona was a good enough reason!
When you tell people that you're heading to Vegas there's that moment of individual reflection, the moment when the recipient of the question draws from their own memories and conciously thinks back to what they left there. However when you tell people that you're heading towards Tijuana the response that you quite often get is 'Oh man, good luck'. Seriously, time after time people were wishing us luck in our endeavours of journeying to the frontier and possibly beyond. As a matter of interest I also checked our also supremely accurate governmental travel advice site Smartaveller for their recommendation. Survey said, 'Travel to Mexicali, Ciudad Juarez and Tijuana not recommended at this time unless absolutely necessary'. Is not $1.60 price for a 1.2 litre bottle of Corona an absolutely necessary reason to make it down to TJ? I think so!
Somewhere close to 20yrs ago I made my way here for the first time on a day excursion with my aunty as an escape from staying in Los Angeles for a week, (man that was a long week). Never the less I remembered it as being full of life and activity. There was nothing we witnessed at the time that could have made us immediately draw the conclusion that it should have been a place that we should have been deterred from going. Admittedly these days the drug cartels are running rampant in Mexico, the border towns exist as the last outposts or rather the closest points of entry for any goods that need to cross the peso/dollar boundary. Not that the cartels would seriously use these commercial routes as their main channel into the US however, they have other ways of smuggling things across that line!
Welcome to Tijuana - Mexico
Tijuana - Mexico
Somewhere close to 20yrs ago I made my way here for the first time on a day excursion with my aunty as an escape from staying in Los Angeles for a week, (man that was a long week). Never the less I remembered it as being full of life and activity. There was nothing we witnessed at the time that could have made us immediately draw the conclusion that it should have been a place that we should have been deterred from going. Admittedly these days the drug cartels are running rampant in Mexico, the border towns exist as the last outposts or rather the closest points of entry for any goods that need to cross the peso/dollar boundary. Not that the cartels would seriously use these commercial routes as their main channel into the US however, they have other ways of smuggling things across that line!
After a rather successful all-nighter in Vegas that commenced with a few shows and included prolonged hours of drinking, Frichot and I boarded a Greyhound bus whose travel line would see us crossing back over the Sierra Nevada's, having a brief stop in LA and then following the Pacific coastline down through San Diego and into Tijuana. Reflecting back I probably remember about 30mins of this 6-7hr journey, Vegas by this time had done such a number on me that the double seat I occupied was comfort enough to have me in a blissful slumber for most of the duration of this ride. I think Jet may have caught just a handful of minutes less than me which in turn beckons the question, did the full journey really take place at all? I guess when when a tree falls...well, you know the drill.
We arrived in TJ somewhere close to 8pm accompanied by that somehow always ever present bout of nervous anticipation that attaches itself to you just before jumping a border. This occasion was also a little stranger than most. There was no exit stamp from the US side and basically once we had disembarked the bus we were just pointed down a dimly lit pathway through a set of high revolving steel gates and into Mexico. At this point I made some enquiries as to whether an entry stamp or visa was required to kick it in Mexico and the only answer that was worth the peso it was written on was that if we wanted to acquire a tourist visa it was going to cost us the privilege of 200 pesos a piece (I wondered as to who would be pocketing that cash?). We were then told that if we just wanted to stay in TJ for a few days then a visa or entry stamp would not be required. I didn't get the logic behind what was being said but reasoned that a $20 note saved is a $20 found when buying alcohol anywhere, and one thing that I did know about TJ was that it was certainly alcohol friendly to all - Love All, Serve All - a country that lives by the Hard Rock motto.
What amazed me was how quickly the scenery changed within the 100mtrs from the official US exit to the official Mexican entry point. As we walked down a relatively small pathway with accompanying high walls on either side we could see a bustling street just waiting to draw us into the fold. Through one set of steel revolving doors we were instantaneously flung into the mix of a TJ bizarre lottery. The proximity of vibrant activity so close to the border really felt as though Mexico had decided to occupy every possible inch of its territory and had decided to push up as close as it possibly could to the bedroom of its US cousin, almost pleading for it to be kind enough to let them in. Walking right next to the border a few days later you could see the distinct demarkation point between the two with buildings on the Mexican side almost utilising the border as fence for their own property and civilisation in the US nowhere to be seen.
As we swung through the revolving doors with luggage in tow we were immediately greeted by street hawkers spruiking their wares to both the weary and unwary, then there were also the food vendors out in force whose street carts were illuminated with what felt like 10 watt bulbs. Enough for you to probably ascertain what you were just about to be consuming and probably enough to allow the vendor the opportunity to grab the correct number of coins that would make their transaction worthwhile. With the mix of the accompanying smoke off their grills, the dimly lit streets, the shady (but I must say magnificently moustached) characters that appeared out of the darkness and the wily taxi drivers awaiting across the road like circling sharks, Mexico made an immediate impression and I must say that to a large extent I was happy to leave behind the neon light tan that I had picked up in Vegas.
So how about this for a line when encountering a random tout on a street corner of TJ, 'Hey man, where you from?' - [insert your answer] - 'What you looking for man? Cigars? Massage? Bitches?Donkey shows?'. Say what now? I seriously thought that donkey shows were things of urban myth but apparently herr on the frontier it's a commodity sold to the mentally deranged and depraved, yes I'm looking at you Frichot when I say this! In any case we successfully dodged those bullets and went on to spend our first night in TJ cruising the main tourist strip of Revolucion with pesos in hand and time to kill. After a few hits and misses we did make our way into a large vacant place that had a rock band performing a range of decent covers. We made camp their for quite sometime, downing a case of Sol and listening to the musical stylings of this TJ band in the cavernous surrounds of what I recognised as the old Hard Rock cafe site. The only thing wrong with the place was the 'open door policy' and I'm talking in a literal sense here, the rollaway doors were wide open and the place was freezing, well, that was until such time that a swarm of bikers made their way through the entrance and virtually parked at the foot of the stage. I did mention that this was the wild west didn't I? That was enough to bring a little warmth to the place and it definitely added to the gun touting ambience that TJ is now renowned for.
Once again it felt as though we were on a Vegas time clock. Punching in at the hotel at somewhere close to 4am and waking up in the later hours of the afternoon, the warmly ball of fuzz that the people of the day call the sun was fading out of sight when we made a return onto the streets. Memories of the previous night came flooding back within the context of sober conversation. At some point we recalled that Frichot did take down six hot dogs in one setting and in the same breath lead a boisterous group of some 15 Mexicans in a first time rendition (from what I've been told) of his very unrehearsed 'USA is gay'. How that came to him at that time of morning and from where he picked up a random bandito with an acoustic I'll never know, but there was definite activity on the corner of Revolucion and Emiliano Zapata, one for the ages, until such time that a San Diego native pulled him up and provided him and everyone in the vicinity with a severe dressing down. In a role that is actually quite uncommon for me, it was me that was pressed into the role of peacemaker and after a few mins I was able to successfully avert what could have been an international slugfest that would have had us all in a TJ prison cell for a night. From what I've heard, probably not the best way to earn a free nights accommodation.
Night two in Tijuana followed a now familiar pattern, choose a bar, drink away and meet randoms. We were getting to be quite adept at selecting an appropriate venue and even more so at choosing randoms for a night of frivolity although with that said Frichot quite often does 95% of the groundwork in those scenarios. I usually just sit back, hold up an end at one side of the bar and chat away if I'm interested. At least the music in the place was half decent, can't really fault a venue whose welcoming song is something by Rage Against The Machine! As you could probably guess we spent hours at the Viper Bar, 1.2 litre bottles of Corona and Vittoria at the ready and some heavy handed moshing at the front of the room for all those drunk enough to not feel the effects of bruises and broken bones until noon. Hand in hand with the $1.60 beers went the corner taco stand that made some of the best soft tacos and torta's that I've ever had. Somehow Frichot again managed to find a random with an acoustic in tow and once he sparked up it was several versus of La Bamba for anyone and everyone that was passing by on 6th street.
None too suprisingly our days once again turned into nights as we kept rolling on, drinking into the early hours. The following days in TJ were spent in much the same manner, cruising Revolucion, choosing bars and shooting down what they had to offer. Somewhere at this point also came the realisation that our fiscal situation was acquiring more question marks than a sixth graders school report on abstinence.Several calls to financial institutions, intermmediaries and the 'Friends of Frelisher' society had us in no clearer position to decide which direction we'd be taking for the next two weeks. Unfortunately our falling stocks did bring on the realisation that turning back into the US and acquiring an LA to NYC flight for a pittance would not be possible. With time on our side and a southward journey into the heart of Mexico looking far more viable we made the decision to head for Mexico City and particularly aimed up for the pyramids of Teotihuacan. Achieving this half-baked plan on the back of a two kebab budget was ofcourse going to be something else entirely but as I always say, 'where there is a will, there is a way', and something I definitely know about Jet and myself is that we're always willing to be a little loco in times of need!
So to the few additional days that we spent in TJ acquiring funds and sorting through the red tape we say ´thankyou´. We had a great time and met a few good people along the way. If Jet gets his band back on the tracks and my band managment skills pick up then we might just be back to rock the joint, hard!
We arrived in TJ somewhere close to 8pm accompanied by that somehow always ever present bout of nervous anticipation that attaches itself to you just before jumping a border. This occasion was also a little stranger than most. There was no exit stamp from the US side and basically once we had disembarked the bus we were just pointed down a dimly lit pathway through a set of high revolving steel gates and into Mexico. At this point I made some enquiries as to whether an entry stamp or visa was required to kick it in Mexico and the only answer that was worth the peso it was written on was that if we wanted to acquire a tourist visa it was going to cost us the privilege of 200 pesos a piece (I wondered as to who would be pocketing that cash?). We were then told that if we just wanted to stay in TJ for a few days then a visa or entry stamp would not be required. I didn't get the logic behind what was being said but reasoned that a $20 note saved is a $20 found when buying alcohol anywhere, and one thing that I did know about TJ was that it was certainly alcohol friendly to all - Love All, Serve All - a country that lives by the Hard Rock motto.
My question is, why can´t you rollerblade over the border?
The grand arch of TJ
What amazed me was how quickly the scenery changed within the 100mtrs from the official US exit to the official Mexican entry point. As we walked down a relatively small pathway with accompanying high walls on either side we could see a bustling street just waiting to draw us into the fold. Through one set of steel revolving doors we were instantaneously flung into the mix of a TJ bizarre lottery. The proximity of vibrant activity so close to the border really felt as though Mexico had decided to occupy every possible inch of its territory and had decided to push up as close as it possibly could to the bedroom of its US cousin, almost pleading for it to be kind enough to let them in. Walking right next to the border a few days later you could see the distinct demarkation point between the two with buildings on the Mexican side almost utilising the border as fence for their own property and civilisation in the US nowhere to be seen.
Hanging out on the corner of Revolucion and 3rd, I´m guessing
As we swung through the revolving doors with luggage in tow we were immediately greeted by street hawkers spruiking their wares to both the weary and unwary, then there were also the food vendors out in force whose street carts were illuminated with what felt like 10 watt bulbs. Enough for you to probably ascertain what you were just about to be consuming and probably enough to allow the vendor the opportunity to grab the correct number of coins that would make their transaction worthwhile. With the mix of the accompanying smoke off their grills, the dimly lit streets, the shady (but I must say magnificently moustached) characters that appeared out of the darkness and the wily taxi drivers awaiting across the road like circling sharks, Mexico made an immediate impression and I must say that to a large extent I was happy to leave behind the neon light tan that I had picked up in Vegas.
Why?
It´s the Devil inside that gets you everytime!
So how about this for a line when encountering a random tout on a street corner of TJ, 'Hey man, where you from?' - [insert your answer] - 'What you looking for man? Cigars? Massage? Bitches?Donkey shows?'. Say what now? I seriously thought that donkey shows were things of urban myth but apparently herr on the frontier it's a commodity sold to the mentally deranged and depraved, yes I'm looking at you Frichot when I say this! In any case we successfully dodged those bullets and went on to spend our first night in TJ cruising the main tourist strip of Revolucion with pesos in hand and time to kill. After a few hits and misses we did make our way into a large vacant place that had a rock band performing a range of decent covers. We made camp their for quite sometime, downing a case of Sol and listening to the musical stylings of this TJ band in the cavernous surrounds of what I recognised as the old Hard Rock cafe site. The only thing wrong with the place was the 'open door policy' and I'm talking in a literal sense here, the rollaway doors were wide open and the place was freezing, well, that was until such time that a swarm of bikers made their way through the entrance and virtually parked at the foot of the stage. I did mention that this was the wild west didn't I? That was enough to bring a little warmth to the place and it definitely added to the gun touting ambience that TJ is now renowned for.
It was a ´Sol Revival´ on night one!
Once again it felt as though we were on a Vegas time clock. Punching in at the hotel at somewhere close to 4am and waking up in the later hours of the afternoon, the warmly ball of fuzz that the people of the day call the sun was fading out of sight when we made a return onto the streets. Memories of the previous night came flooding back within the context of sober conversation. At some point we recalled that Frichot did take down six hot dogs in one setting and in the same breath lead a boisterous group of some 15 Mexicans in a first time rendition (from what I've been told) of his very unrehearsed 'USA is gay'. How that came to him at that time of morning and from where he picked up a random bandito with an acoustic I'll never know, but there was definite activity on the corner of Revolucion and Emiliano Zapata, one for the ages, until such time that a San Diego native pulled him up and provided him and everyone in the vicinity with a severe dressing down. In a role that is actually quite uncommon for me, it was me that was pressed into the role of peacemaker and after a few mins I was able to successfully avert what could have been an international slugfest that would have had us all in a TJ prison cell for a night. From what I've heard, probably not the best way to earn a free nights accommodation.
Frichot & Ivan at the Viper Bar - Tijuana - Mexico
1.2 litres of Mexican goodness
Caguama - two of those and the party is well and truly on the way to victory!
Night two in Tijuana followed a now familiar pattern, choose a bar, drink away and meet randoms. We were getting to be quite adept at selecting an appropriate venue and even more so at choosing randoms for a night of frivolity although with that said Frichot quite often does 95% of the groundwork in those scenarios. I usually just sit back, hold up an end at one side of the bar and chat away if I'm interested. At least the music in the place was half decent, can't really fault a venue whose welcoming song is something by Rage Against The Machine! As you could probably guess we spent hours at the Viper Bar, 1.2 litre bottles of Corona and Vittoria at the ready and some heavy handed moshing at the front of the room for all those drunk enough to not feel the effects of bruises and broken bones until noon. Hand in hand with the $1.60 beers went the corner taco stand that made some of the best soft tacos and torta's that I've ever had. Somehow Frichot again managed to find a random with an acoustic in tow and once he sparked up it was several versus of La Bamba for anyone and everyone that was passing by on 6th street.
Frichot warming up for his rendition of La Bamba - the crowd went nuts!
Tacos and the odd torta - this little place had some amazing food
Corona, it will never fail you
None too suprisingly our days once again turned into nights as we kept rolling on, drinking into the early hours. The following days in TJ were spent in much the same manner, cruising Revolucion, choosing bars and shooting down what they had to offer. Somewhere at this point also came the realisation that our fiscal situation was acquiring more question marks than a sixth graders school report on abstinence.Several calls to financial institutions, intermmediaries and the 'Friends of Frelisher' society had us in no clearer position to decide which direction we'd be taking for the next two weeks. Unfortunately our falling stocks did bring on the realisation that turning back into the US and acquiring an LA to NYC flight for a pittance would not be possible. With time on our side and a southward journey into the heart of Mexico looking far more viable we made the decision to head for Mexico City and particularly aimed up for the pyramids of Teotihuacan. Achieving this half-baked plan on the back of a two kebab budget was ofcourse going to be something else entirely but as I always say, 'where there is a will, there is a way', and something I definitely know about Jet and myself is that we're always willing to be a little loco in times of need!
Downtown TJ at sunset
They have a ´thing´ for Zebra´s in TJ - seriously!
I kind of think it´s because they´re ashamed of their all encompassing ´donkey love´ - fake stripes or not, it´s still a donkey!
So to the few additional days that we spent in TJ acquiring funds and sorting through the red tape we say ´thankyou´. We had a great time and met a few good people along the way. If Jet gets his band back on the tracks and my band managment skills pick up then we might just be back to rock the joint, hard!
