Is that a Zebra or Just a Painted Donkey?

We decided at the last minute to go to Mexico. As always, things never go quite as smoothly for us as they seem to go for the rest of the world. It was Wednesday night, approaching 7 pm and the start of the baseball game that we were running late for (of course). We decided to book the tour to Ensenada, Mexico online at our hotel's computers. Should be simple enough, right? Ha. Booking the tour was no problem, and the website assured us they would email our tickets within 72 hours. Good thing the tour was only 14 hours away. Oops.

We finally got to Petco Park in the 4th inning (after taking what were once - in 1913 - the fastest elevators in the world, so said the signs in our hotel. They are no longer the fastest; in fact, they are probably now the slowest. Not quite the same attraction.). The game was a rousing contest - San Diego Padres vs. Arizona Diamondbacks - and we savored our ballpark hot dogs.

Once we returned to the hotel, we took the world's fastest elevators (*cough*) back up the computer area, thinking we would definitely be able to print our tickets now. (After all, it had been 2 hours.) We were wrong. In fact, we woke up at 6 am Thursday morning to find we were still ticket-less. Hm. "No refunds," the website proudly proclaimed in bold black letters. This, we didn't see, until after the purchase had gone through. Crap. Isn't that always the way?

Several phone calls and emails over the next hour led us nowhere - nowhere other than the hotel lobby, where our plan was to sweet talk the driver into letting us go on the tour. As Begee sat and waited in the lobby of the St. James Hotel in the Gaslamp District in San Diego, preparing his sweet talking spiel, Erin ran back up to the computers one more time - at 8:29. She found the tickets had actually been processed! But, surprise, surprise, they said that we needed to call the bus company 24 hours in advance to guarantee our pickup. Hmm... Maybe we weren't supposed to go to Mexico, after all.

Right as we started to lose hope, the bus arrived! Our hotel was a scheduled pickup anyway, so even though the driver knew nothing about us, he said, "Get on the bus!" And get on we did with a huge sigh of relief.

In the end, it was worth it. Mexico was so much fun. We went through Tijuana, saw the huge corrugated metal fence that separates our two countries and pondered what it would be like to live on this side of the fence. We saw a house in the shape of a mermaid and found out the owner lives in her boobs (of course he does). We stopped at Rosarito Beach and wiggled our toes in the sand (imagine, real sand! Not trucked in like on Catalina.), saw the horses for rent, watched a man in a cowboy hat flying a kite with Spiderman attached, and debated going to the Gynecologist/Dentist (we wondered which check up he does first).

We then drove on to Ensenada and felt bad for the silence at our driver's jokes. Erin laughed, but she was alone. Ensenada was much different than we both expected. For one thing, they took us to lunch, where we ate white sea bass. Nothing against white sea bass, but we wanted tacos and tamales!

Lunch was good, though, and then we went off to explore the city. We saw Donkey Shit cigarettes (and are still debating about their appeal), we saw the Black Pearl from "Pirates of the Carribbean," we saw the biggest Mexican flag in all of Mexico, we saw three huge heads of Presidents, Begee tried on a Mexican wrestling mask after much prodding by Erin, and we each tried on a sombrero (and paid $1 for the privilege and the accompanying photos). We learned to convert dollars to pesos, and we giggled about the Spanish on our Coke cans (okay, yes, we're nerds). We also saw all the tequila and Viagra one could ever want, and we suffered through a strong margarita. (We should have ordered Corona!)

We got back on the bus, headed back to Tijuana. Everyone was tired and ready to cross the border, but we had one more bathroom stop to go in Tijuana. As we turned the corner onto Revolution Ave, there was a collective gasp on the bus, as we all saw a zebra with a cart attached, set up for photos. Our co-worker here on the island swears it's just a painted donkey. Not that that's any better.

Our time in Tijuana was short, but the lines at the border, were not. It amazed us how many cars were trying to get into the US versus the five minute line into Mexico. We all had to get off the bus and go through the border ourselves one by one. After some nervousness about being left in Mexico, we all hopped back on the bus, and headed into the San Diego sunset.

In the end, we had a great time in Mexico, and the drama with our tickets only added to the constant adventure in our lives (though sometimes we wish for less excitement). We'll never know if it really is a zebra or a painted donkey, we'll probably never again ride the world's fastest elevators, and we'll never visit the Dentist/Gynecologist, but it's good to know they're there if we want to. We'll just buy our tickets 72 hours sooner.