Mexico

 We usually take a couple of hours and go to the outlets at the Mexican border.  San Ysidro is the last U.S. exit off I-5, and there are signs that say that.  We usually get off the freeway too soon, we're so focused on not missing the exit.  This time, we were more blase, and we missed the last exit.  No problem, we thought we'd just turn around at the border.  Well, that's impossible.  You just keep driving, and suddenly, you're in beautiful, downtown Tijuana!  Guys, it's not like 23 years ago when I drove down Baja to Rosario and Ensenada.  Tijuana is big.

 Oops.  Fell off the edge of the map!

 A guy on a bike met us at the first stop light and, in a friendly way, motioned for us to follow him.  He would help us get back to the 5, no problem!  We should trust him!  Meanwhile, a cab driver said to me, "Be careful of those guys."  We were getting directions from the cab driver when the biker came up and let loose a string of Mexican swear words, which I remember well from college.  The cabbie punched him in the chest and a scuffle ensued.  The biker rode off, saying, "Why didn't you leave them to me? This is how I make my money!"  That wasn't the last we saw of him, though,  He continued to dog us through traffic, alternating between profanities and the nice-kid personna.  Later, we heard a friend of ours paid one of these guys $70 to lead them back to the right road!  No way I'm paying that.  I was confident we could find our way out of Tijuana by ourselves.  Drunk college students do it all the time.

 Traffic was interesting.  You had to be pushy, and also avoid all the hawkers who were trying to divert traffic to their businesses by standing in front of your car, motioning.  On the freeway onramp, we stopped to ask some cops directions.  The directions were detailed, with warnings of the pitfalls of taking the wrong lane, but we took the wrong lane anyway.  And just like the police said, we ended up having to do the whole loop again, this time taking the right lane and winding up in line to get back into the U.S.   Our personalities came out in the car.  I was laughing, loving the adventure, window down.  MY biggest concern was having to spend time in a little room convincing someone we were U.S. citizens.  Scott was shrieking, "Roll up the window!  This was a bad idea!  A really bad idea!"  He eventually loosened up, though, and we were both laughing at the kids in the back seat.  Ptolemy started crying.  Tziporah made the astute observation, "This is just like Into the Woods!  How will we ever find our way back home!?"  She loved the high drama.  Eventually, waiting in line, we realized that we were just fine.  The line was lined with shops, and vendors walked through traffic with their wares.  Everyone was opposed to buying anything until they saw something they wanted.  "Roll up the window!  Don't make eye contact!  Oooh, wait, kendamas!"  We did purchase some churros.  At that point, we had been laughing about Xanthe looking Mayan.  Did you know that Native Americans and Han Chinese share the exact same DNA?  It's true.  I didn't know it until we had Xanthe's DNA done through 23andme.  Her results were "100% Chinese or Native American."

So Golda piped up in the hysterical voice she reserves for when she's really freaked out, and said, "We don't have our passports, we have a kid who looks Mayan and now we're eating churros!  They're never going to let us back in!"

 But they did.  I handed the immigration officer 3 drivers licences and Tziporah's passport, which for some reason was in my glove box.  The tack we had decided to take was dumb tourist, and it worked.  I didn't try to explain anything other than, "We missed the San Ysidro exit, we haven't even been out of our car, and we're just trying to go back."  He looked at the paltry pile of ID and said, "Uuuuhhh...could you roll down' your back window?"  He was greeted by 7 smiling faces, Golda trying to block his view of Xanthe, all of them eating churros, only 2 of them with ID.  Did I mention 2 were double seat-belted, since we were only planning on driving 3 miles?  The immigration guy looked us up on his computer and waved us through.  I said, "See ya later!  Well, I hope not!"  He laughed.  He probably liked that we were happy and laughing.  With the long lines at the border, he probably doesn't see many people laughing, let alone dummies who bumbled across the border by accident.

Scott and I spent that evening googling things like, "Is Tijuana Dangerous," and "Where to go in Tijuana/Baja."  By all accounts, Tijuana is a place you'll want to know what you're doing, which we didn't.  Next time, we will.  ;)