Laundry and language classes
18 June 2008 | Ensenada
Normandie
Busy days here in Ensenada. Rick and Denise flew back to Whisper's Echo and cold days in Richmond, while Michael and I visited his sisters in southern CA and brought our faithful Toyota back with his guitar and a few other goodies to add to the overload on board Sea Venture. We're still paring down and still fixing, but at least we've begun the voyage.
We'd only heard negative things about Ensenada, many cruisers suggesting one avoid this port city. But here at Baja Naval, we've encountered only friendly, eager-to-please folk. Michael's Spanish is passable, but I keep reverting to Italian, so we've signed up for an intensive class at the university. If only our brains absorbed as easily as they did when we were young.
There seems to be a joy here that we don't often see in the States. Drivers smile when they stop for you to cross the street--even taxi drivers! Instead of being jaded by the excesses of tourists, many of the local folk--even hawkers--stop to help and will actually walk one to someone else's store or flag a bus and make certain it's going in the right direction.
Cruise ships dock nearby several times a week, adding to the crowds and bringing forth the hawkers. But on non-ship days, the streets revert to normal, and we're treated to smiles and fewer extended hands. I'm still hoping Denise will forward photos of the trip and am trying to get Michael busy with his camera.
Michael has been recovering from those months of no rest before we left, but I sense a restlessness beginning, which means I may soon have a working washer/dryer. That luxury can't come too soon as we've spent over $60 on two weeks' worth of laundry so far. (To be fair, the first load included a quilt and a blanket that Denise and I used to keep the wind out when we stood watch--both got soaked by boarding waves. Perhaps we're wimps, but our foul weather gear seemed to leak heat and let in the cold, especially around our wrists and ankles.) I'm about to resort to cleaning towels in the shower.
Fog is rolling in as I write, creating a blur where lights shone from the ship just to our stern. Across the bay, at the commercial port, another container ship awaits off loading. For several days we watched mostly motor yachts being hoisted aboard a carrier, bound for somewhere else. New friends Diane and John had Dockwise bring their fifty-foot sailboat from New Zealand. They're on the tail end of years aboard, while we're just beginning. I'm imagining the stories we'll tell one day.