Vacation Day 4 – Tijuana day
We started out with an early lunch at the BeeJay Deli on 2nd Avenue, the place I used to get lunch when I’d work day shifts. The people who run that place are so cool. I haven’t seen them in 1.5-2 years, and when I walked in they were really happy to see me. I always make a point to eat there when I’m back in San Diego, but the last time I was in town, I was there over the weekend and someone else works the counter on weekends. So I’m thinking the last time I saw them was probably on the Bearded Odyssey, which would have been late May 2003.
But right away, when I walked in, they were like “Hey, you’re back!” They asked how school was going and everything and were just really cool. I realize some of it is probably an ego thing, because I’ve never really had a regular place where the owners knew me and remembered me and cared about me that much as a customer, but these people are just super friendly and cool. So if any of you reading this are from San Diego or visit there, please go to the BeeJay Deli on 2nd Avenue just south of Cedar (by the Motel 6). They’re mainly a sandwich shop but they have other things too, like salads and stuff. I recommend the chicken breast with melted jack cheese and ortega chilis on toasted sourdough.
Sara had the turkey sandwich. We also had some complimentary egg rolls, which were great, as an appetizer.
Anyway, we took the trolley down to Tijuana for some junk shopping. Speaking of that, one of my favorite merchants gave us this line as we passed his shop: “Wanna come in and see more junk – eh – I mean, merchandise?” I got a kick out of that. But here is Sara along Revolution Avenue with the old arch ruins and the new kitschy arch both behind her.
We headed down Revolution Avenue, and I bought four new Mexican wrestling masks (pictures to come, I hope). This picture was taken as a salesman attempted to convince Sara she wanted to buy some of his jewelry, but I took the picture because the building behind her says “Sara” also.
I’m going a little out of order here, but after we made the walk across the border and over to Revolution Ave, I got really light-headed all of a sudden. My stomach notted up like I was really hungry and my heart started racing. So we sat down and I said something about how I really needed to get some lunch, and then I just realized that we’d eaten only an hour before. But I felt miserable and it just came out of nowhere.
I really wanted to get some water, but all I could think of was “When in Mexico, don’t drink the water.” Sara was like “But if we find bottled water, that’ll be okay,” and I was just thinking “Why would the water companies send their good water to Mexico? They probably just bottle the bad water!” Yeah so I was going nuts, just feeling like I was going to faint in Mexico while kids kept trying to sell me Chicklets. I was trying to figure out the Spanish word for “sick,” so I was asking Sara, “Is it ‘enfermo’? Is that it? Or does that mean ‘on fire’ or something?” and she was just like “Maybe you should just try not to talk…”
I became convinced that I needed to go into “Taco Bell,” the restaurant immediately behind our bench that was definitely NOT a part of the Taco Bell chain. This was basically a 3-walled shack with some rotting-away locals sitting inside and a chihuahua running around and barking on the roof. However, they had a special of 3 beef tacos for $1 and beers and bottles of pop were also $1.
Oddly enough, my idea of curing my ailment with cheap tacos and beer didn’t seem as smart to Sara as it did to me. Nevertheless, I convinced her that we should go in, because anything was better than water. We walked in, the locals just glared at us, absolutely no one approached us, so we walked out. The sight of Rey Mysterio masks across the way brought a little bit of life back to me, so we went over and I bought one and I asked the shopkeeper if the taco place across the street was any good (that’s simplifying it a bit – she didn’t speak English and I don’t speak Spanish, but we ended up communicating in terms of “bueno” and “no”). She communicated the idea that Taco Bell was good, so we decided to try again.
Again, we walked into “Taco Bell,” and no one made an effort to acknowledge us, with the exception of the half-dead old locals who just glared at us. I also forgot to mention the swarm of gnats we had to walk through to get into the restaurant.
So once again, we walked out, and one of the servers that had just been standing by a window asked us if we wanted some tacos. Relieved and still delirious, I said yes, and we sat down and eventually I was served (Sara did not want to order food or look at my food once it arrived. The idea of eating the tacos in this place in the company of gnats was not pleasing to her).
The three tacos I got were not only tiny, but they each sported a glob of guacamole that can best be described as someone blowing their sinus-infected nose into my tacos. But I ate them up (even though I hate guacamole) and drank a Corona and a Pepsi Light, paid my $3 and we left. Sara asked me if I felt better, and regarding my initial ailment, I felt a lot better. But that food made me sick in a very new way.
It eventually passed and we were both fine the rest of the day. But I told that story out of order for the purpose of keeping the photos in chronological order. We got some pictures of “Taco Bell” on our way back to the trolley. Here’s Sara, with an inset of the chihuaha (which isn’t visible in the regular photo).
And here’s a closeup of the chihuaha, which held perfectly still while Sara took her picture, but when I tried to, he kept running around. A homeless guy stumbled buy, seeing what I was trying to do, and yelled up “Hold still! He’s trying to take your picture!” and then laughed to himself as he stumbled on down the street.
Here’s a look back at the TJ skyline before we crossed the border.
This is the backed up line of cars at the border. Because of the side of the bridge we were on, I couldn’t look back to show how far the line went. We actually got through our line faster than I ever have before. There was literally no wait for people on foot.
We ended up getting cleaned up and going to Caparell’s for dinner that night – another highly recommended SD restaurant. It’s an Italian place on the ground floor of the Reiss Hotel on 1st Avenue north of Ash.