Last days in Mexico

Our flight to Tijuana arrived at about 10:30pm, but thankfully Sarah's cousin Jimmy had driven down from California to pick us up. Sarah was a tad nervous she might not recognise him, since they haven't seen each other for about 25 years or so. But seeing as how we were the only even vaguely Gringo-looking backpackers, and Jimmy looks like an uncanny mix of Sarah's brother and father, we didn't have any problems finding each other.

So Jimmy took us out for a quick bite to eat in a local Mexican place (just about everywhere was closed at this time of night), before dropping us back to his holiday home in Rosarito, a town about 30 minutes South from Tijuana airport. We spent two nights there with Jimmy, meeting his resident neighbours Hank and Nancy (both retired and fabulously friendly and welcoming, especially with Hank's infectious Boston accent). We also had the honour of meeting the crazy, zany Brandy.

Our only full day in Rosarito Jimmy drove us into the small town where he had a small bit of business to attend to while I got my hair cut, and then after a quick stroll through the depressingly quite local market (Mexican drug-wars are generating a lot of very bad press in the States at the moment, so tourists are few and far between), we drove down along the dramatic coastline and into Mexican wine country. We had two wine tastings, both in vineyards that were every bit as plush and modern as the vineyards we've visited in South Africa, Argentina, Australia and New Zealand. Later that night was our last authentic Mexican dinner with all Jimmy's Rosarito mates before Hank drove us all home.

The following day was a lazy start, and after a very quick dip in the freezing cold Pacific Ocean just outside Jimmy's beach house we headed up towards the US border (after Jimmy had to pay a wee bribe to a Mexican motorcycle cop who'd caught him driving up a closed-off road to try and skip the huge queue of cars heading for the border post - d'oh!).