Today we drove to Todos Santos. After we went to the beach. At the beach, there is a stark divide.
Boats, birds, and fishermen. Trendy boutique hotel. Two worlds united on a desolate beach.
I picture a shipwrecked man 200 years ago washing up on this beach. Thirsty and disheartened by this barren land. Dust, salt, sand, and cactus. Years later skinny Americans drink mezcalitos by the pool.
The carcasses of butchered marlins are dragged to the sea by an obese Mexican woman. The smell of rotting fish wafts over us towards the resort. I step over a dead seagull and turn around to walk back to the car.
I can feel the sand from the beach in my shoes. I’m starting to sweat. The dry dust from the sand road fills the air.
Baja and California on one beach.
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