Archive for March, 2008

notes from baja – east cape

March 30th, 2008

March 13 – March 20, 2008 Baja California Sur

Santiago, on the Tropic of Cancer. Palomar restaurant, Canadian couple from the Okanogan. Man was very negative about Canada’s “communism,” inflaming Sam. They were insular people, couldn’t really recommend any place to travel, and were not impressed that I had been to the Okanogan.

Sierra de la Laguna, into the mountains. Wild dry river valley, rocky and filled with the calls of mourning doves.

Sierra de la Laguna

Los Barriles. Disoriented coming into town, so thirsty, not noticing well. I’m convinced Hotel Los Barriles is different from Los Barriles Hotel.

Sign at the pool: “Don’t sit on the infinity.”

hotel pool

Cafe Caleb, a well-informed woman from Alaska. Topics of conversation:
small towns
scorpions
tarantulas
hurricanes (John)
petting whales
capturing a drug lord at the hot dog stand
fruit empanadas
Mulege (lush)
La Paz – big city
spraying the house for bugs
fear of American men in Cabo
Mexicans are nice people, friendly

San Bartolo, stop at Dulceria. I examine all the strange foods in plastic bags, some unidentifiable. A bag that looks like it’s filled with dried hay or manure?

San Antonio, a beautiful pink church, a vacant plaza. Sam picks an orange from a tree outside the church. I sample it – peel is full of aromatic oils, but flesh is too tart, bitter. I toss it in the bushes.

El Triunfo, piano museum. Nicolas plays Moonlight Sonata, looks for his Chopin. Animated for a wax figure, wearing a brown three piece suit in the hot sun.

Little taqueria on the main street. I tried to get a bean and cheese burrito, but all I could get was beans, cheese, and a chicken burrito. No bebidas until woman gives little girl money to go get us a Coke and a Sprite across the street at the tienda.

La Paz – Hotel Gardenias is now Hotel Bugambilias. Strange treats in the lobby – chocolate and chili?

La Paz – up and out of the hotel at dawn, on the road to Tecolote and the Islands. Cliffs outside of town dripping rock, playas empty of people, cloudy with a sensation of sunrise in the hills behind us. Wind and drama. Beach very quiet in early windy sunlight.

dripping rock

dawn Tecolote

Prettiest beach: Playa Balandra

playa balandra

Guidebook says Gas is available in El Cien, but we see no gas for sale. At Las Pocitas, we ask some mechanics about gasolina and they direct us to “casa azul,” where a woman sells us a few liters of “barrel gas.”

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card with stars and cat

March 3rd, 2008

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when the poet must choose

March 2nd, 2008

Comes a time when the poet must choose: either to step
deep in the stream of his people, history, tradition, folding and
folding himself in wealth of persons and pasts; philosophy,
humanity, to become richly foundationed and great and sane
and ordered. Or, to step beyond the bound onto the way out,
into horrors and angels, possible madness or silly Faustian
doom, possible utter transcendence, possible enlightened return,
possible ignominious wormish perishing.

Snyder, Earth House Hold, p 39

I’ve been thinking about this contrast lately, it’s interesting although probably false.

I like the idea of the poet flirting with the possibility of wormish perishing.