As I woke up this morning to a bagpipe rendition of "Amazing Grace" blasting from somewhere on shore, I was once again reminded that Baja is unique. Not just the scenery, but the people as well. This is a place for those who have chosen not to live by the usual rules. A place for those that some would call damaged goods. But really, these are just people who have their own set of rules that say take care of your neighbour, enjoy your life, stay away from big government, and just leave me to take care of myself.

On shore yesterday we met a few of these characters.

Alfredo works at a small restaurant on the Baja highway that passes through here. He was busy killing the several hundred flies sitting on the tables when we arrived. By the way, hundreds is probably an understatement. Dead, flying, and sitting flies were everywhere. Alfredo's plan was to kill as many of them as possible so that any patrons that came by could enjoy their food without it being instantly covered. He was clearly a master at his job, killing flies inches from my beer without the carcasses ending up with a bath. He joined us at our table later, sharing his secret of how to kill flies with bare hands, every time, without missing. He explained that this was an excellent way to win bets in a bar and that he had done so many times. I was left imagining that the bars down here must have lots of flies. Once he knew us a bit better, Alfredo shared with us his views on the world, the shadow government that really runs everything, and many more interesting facts. Other people with his views would have come across as an annoying nut job. But, not this guy. He was excellent company even if some of his views may have been a little off of the centre.

We also met a great guitar player, an old grizzled Viet Nam vet, who used to play with Ricky Nelson. His story is that he was supposed to be with Ricky on that famous plane that crashed and killed everyone on board. But, he had just left the band to be with his family. Now, he lives here on a ranch up in the desert behind the mountains.

Then, there is Geary, who lives on the beach here in El Burro cove where we are anchored. His "house" is hand-built beach palapa with a palm roof, rough wood partial walls, raw log posts, and open air where one would expect windows. A couple of old trailers have been attached for additional space, and to support his solar panels. Perched no more than 10' from the waters edge on this gorgeous sandy beach, it is obviously extremely rustic and one of about twenty of these style of homes. Some are a little fancier, and some are simply a palapa roof built over a trailer. Geary has been living here for twenty years and is well loved among the cruisers for covering the weather on the radio each and every morning. When we stopped by to say thanks for all his work and dedication, we also met his cat "Yodo" which is as friendly and laid back as everyone else around here.

With a very old 1961 pumper truck stored under a palm roof palapa, they even have their own volunteer fire department here. They practice every Wednesday morning instead of evening since nobody is working anyway. Just like my previous department, Willis Point, they make do with few resources and deal with any medical, car accident, or fire calls. Because there isn't a local ambulance, they have one of those as well. If one of the palapa houses catches on fire, they just try to keep the neighbours from going up in smoke and the very dry wood & palm construction of these dwellings makes for a very fast & hot fire.

All of these characters are here in El Burro, just one small cove in the much larger area of Bahia Concepcion. Within a few kilometres there are several other sandy coves with their own collection of palapas, rough camp sites, and even a few high end homes. This is rough country here with very little water, no electricity water or sewage, but with an abundance of incredible vistas complements of the mountains rising in every direction almost from the waters edge. Although only about 20 miles from Mulege, the closest village, the people who have chosen to live here have to be tough. They need to be able to handle everything on their own and to scrounge resources as needed. In the summer, the heat is oppressive at well over a hundred degrees with near 100% humidity. Even the locals describe it as nearly unbearable. But, in spite of the hardships, those few that we have met love this place and have chosen to come here from all over the world. There is something special h ere.

For us, this is just a temporary stop in our journey, another window into a very different way of living out the limited number of days that each of us have on earth. We'll be here for about a week, exploring the different anchorages, and hopefully, meeting more of the characters who call this home. After that, it will time for us to turn around and start heading South. By late May or early June we need to make our way 200 miles South to La Paz and then sail 160 miles across the Sea of Cortez, back to Mazatlan on the mainland.