The Mexican Mambo

The above is the marina we are in in the "new" harbor and we were tremendously happy to drive in last night. Robert called me, Thanksgiving morning, from the bus station in Nogales as I was going over the border to pick him up. Several very young and tough American guys in blue uniforms asked to look at my Trader Joe's bags to see if I was taking the drugs and guns back to Mexico. No smiles. After being guided through the hell of road construction by locals who didn't know where the bus station was, I finally found Robert and we headed south. We had to get a permit for the car at mile 20, and that is where the Mexican Mambo started. N0t the "two step", but the for real mambo, with variations back and forth to the copy guy, immigration and the bank (banjercito which is run by rigid, uncaring beurocrats). A car import permit requires a visa, we had our's from Cabo. Then because Robert's name was on the car title, they used his and an argument started as Banjercito charged him $25.00 for the visa he had already paid for in Cabo. I quietly said, just pay for the permit, don't argue. Ever tell someone not to argue when they insist they are right? Then the supervisor came over and said we had to get a new visa, as our visa was for a boat not a car. We went back to immigration, who said Banjercito was nuts. So we bought the new visa in my name, as Robert had not left the country. We went back to Banjercito, had to pay for the car permit, more copies made, and they refused to take Robert's card. The permit was in my name, and the credit card had to match the permit with my name on it. Notice, no swear words. We showed our passports, but it sounded as if they wanted a marriage license. Wells Fargo at Frank Lloyd Wright and Via Linda had eaten my credit card that morning. More argument. Didn't work. Nobody budging. We trekked back to immigration, who laughed and said that the "problem is with Banjercito" - no kidding, as we paid for another visa. We had to keep going to the copy office to get more copies of the different documents. Gabriel , at the copy office, thought that having new friends named Robert and Roberta was wonderful and laughed about it alot. We found out, when we saw him leaving the copy office, kissing the girl at the counter who took his place. It was his wife, Gabrielle.
At this point, we were concerned about having enough on Robert's credit card to get us into the country as we had different balances and my card, with a balance was in Scottsdale, in limbo, Ai yi yi. We called Ian, who probably thinks his parents need to be locked up and managed to get home to the boat last night with $10 cash and some pesos. Thank you, Ian.
The highway was mostly toll(Cuota) and very safe and better roads than in Calif. Narrow in places and trucks like to pass fast, but we had a great time. Our Thanksgiving dinner was at a bus stop area: Tacos birrea, Carne asada tacos and all the trimmings. We thought it was wonderful and thought of the other's we have had in the past with a lot of lovely friends who had better get down here.

The colors on the road to Brookings were astonishingly brilliant. A very late Indian Summer had kept everything green, but I was either driving through the sky falling with snow, hail, and heavy rain or small breaks in the storm where I could take a pic like this.

And very happy to be back in Mazatlan, thinking of the wonderful friends who took care of me on the trip up and back. Next week we will try to get a temporary import permit for the boat and will see if we have learned to dance properly.