TheTraveler

A Monthly Special Feature from The Traveler at TouristTravel.com

Tales from the Green Tortoise
By Sandra Kennedy

Sun sparkled and danced on the sea. Dipping my paddles into crystal clear waters, the white and red-striped kayak skirted the coastline of the Baja Peninsula. A slight breeze cooled my face. Ashore, fellow travelers were preparing a gourmet lunch at the designated open-air kitchen area. Fresh pineapples, melons, bananas and papayas, freshly caught Red Snapper, breads and cheeses for lunch. Sitting on the rock-strewn, sandy beach of Playa de Escondida, thirty-eight campers shared their latest tales while savoring the fresh cuisine.

This adventure began at the San Francisco bus depot. My husband Bill and I met our Greyhound bus, the Green Tortoise. Most of the following two days and nights it crawled south on Highway 1 through the stark desert, eroded boulders and giant Saguro Cacti of the Baja Peninsula. Five days later sun, sand and sea greeted us for the next part of our journey, “Baja Beach Daze.” The tales unfold…

 The Green Tortoise bus is a legend in its time. Thirty years ago, someone got the bright idea to get a bus. Sometimes called the “Hippie Bus,” it was filled with spirited travelers seeking adventures out of the mainstream. It worked. Over 500,000 travelers have ridden this bus with its shamrock-green swath horizontally encircling it. Vividly painted yellow letters,” The Green Tortoise,” are lettered on the dusty-white sides.

Cousins of the original Tortoise now meander throughout other parts of the world. Alaska, the Mayan Trail, Costa Rica, and a coast-to-coast trip across the US are a few of the fifteen available journeys. Repeat travelers get “frequent crawler” miles. “There just aren’t any other trips like it.”

“Sweet, Dude” was THE saying on the nine-day Tortoise and Baja journey. We made quick stops in Los Angeles and San Diego to pick up more passengers. Life just got better, though admittedly more crowded with thirty-eight travelers aboard. Animated conversations in French, Spanish, Italian and English were heard. As the trip progressed, strangers became friends. Ages mingled. People with lengthy life experiences interacted with adults in their 20’s and 30’s. It didn’t matter one’s life circumstance. A group formed, bonded by the love of adventure and travel, budget style. The nine-day trip came to approximately $60 per day for the Tortoise escapade, bus and beach sleeps, as well as fresh Baja cuisine.

I stretched out comfortably while our bus traversed the countryside. Reading, sleeping, socializing, and checking out the scenery could be done from the overhead racks, benches, booths and a padded platform. Two tables provided the area for lively games of hearts, cribbage and poker.

Crossing over the Mexican border and stopping in Ensensada, a cruise-ship port, most of us devoured fish tacos from the street corner Taquerias. Strolling through this lively Mexican town, I saw families together in the town plaza. It felt good to see mothers, fathers, grandparents and children enjoying one another in the warm night air. Hearing about a local steam bath, we luckily found it. Ah! The joys of steam, water and soap.

The tortoise traveled all night. In the morning, one compelling thought was in mind, “let me out.” We slept under the table and across the aisle from another couple. Sandals lay in a heap in the narrow aisle. On the front platform (used as benches during the day), eight people lingered in varying degrees of sleep. Carefully placing our feet, we maneuvered our way over sleepers into the crisp desert morning air and then…a run to the nearest cactus.

Aromatic, full-bodied coffee never tasted better. Meals were anticipated like in the movie, “Babette’s Feast.” Being a carnivore, I had my doubts about eating healthy food for nine days. Actually, it agreed with me. Granola cereals, fruits and breads added to our off-the-road continental breakfast.

Turquoise waters shimmered under the sun’s rays. Playa de Escondida was an oasis amongst the surrounding canyons carved through arid mountains. The beach sprawled to the sea’s edge. A few seagulls swooped above us in the intensely blue sky. Silence.

Tents were staked as camps formed. Many chose to sleep in the open air under the brilliant starlit sky. Our pup tent was set up at the edge of the beach, between a “rock and a hard place”. A few feet away from our tent, gentle waves lapped at the shore’s edge.

Sleep came easily.

A gliding seagull would view a communal kitchen overshadowed by a gigantic tarp. “Lagoon Drive’s” street sign pointed to the outhouse. “Pee Tree” a few steps away. On the beach, thirty-eight campers scattered themselves amongst the water-worn rocks and sands.

Afternoon breezes cooled the day and made for pleasant evenings. Campfires roared as the golden-reddish flames flared into the air. A guitar and violin serenade welcomed night. Singers harmonized with them. Each event added to the rare experiences in our Baja-World.

“Ya, Ya, Ya, Ya,” Yayo bellowed while baiting our fishing hooks. Yayo is a husky local character that occasionally loves to belt out Spanish songs with a hint of the blues. He motored us along the coastline in his eight-passenger boat and then headed into deeper waters. Soon, eight fishing lines trolled in the Sea of Cortez. Later, eight delectable grilled fish were served on a platter. Fish tales were told that night.

Agua Verde, Yayo’s village, was our next venture. Set under the shade of spindly trees, trellised shade and wooden benches, we ate delectable morsels of Red Snapper wrapped in a tortilla. It was 90 degrees and tranquil except for the bench-rocking snores from Yayo while he napped. We were able to have a glimpse of a local village with few homes, a church and school. There is a beauty in simple living.

Fifteen minutes from the camp by pick-up, many of us pampered ourselves in the warmth of a tidal hot springs. Others enjoyed mule rides and hiking into the nearby mountains. Whether backstroking through the sea’s pristine waters or welcoming nature in the buff at a separate beach, stress disappeared.

The days passed too quickly. It seemed that our tent had just been set up when it was time to pack up. Reflections and quirky memories flooded my mind on our return to San Francisco. We developed our own art form along the way. Regardless of gender, toenails were decorated in luscious reds and deep black and deep black colors. Maybe the tequila being passed around added to the designs. Music was cranked to highest decibels; aisle dancing and laughter filled the night into the early morning hours as we made our way home.

Tales from The Green Tortoise…so many still to tell.

www.greentortoise.com

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