As I am writing, it is the next day, as it has been most days of this year. We are all seven in a very random Airbnb you will hear about tomorrow, a strange, strange place. It is raining. Playa Tijuana, too, is strange.
Arriving here, we left at five am in a transfer to the airport. Went through all the illogical systems around dogs and bags and lines and boarding passes flew for two hours - randomly, again, the airplane company had let us book a seat for a passenger with dogs, where the seat did not allow for passengers with dogs, and at the same row a seat for your only minor (apparently) where minors were not allowed. So chaotic, and this time, actually not our fault.
Well. 2 hours later, we found ourselves in the grey and cold North, to realize flying this early left us with 6 hours of waiting before we could enter the next AirBnb.
So we took 2 Ubers to a cafe close to the destination, to find it closed, walked a bit to find another one with a very talkative high school student making us very good coffee and giving us a space to hang out. Erik and I went shopping for food, and ten minutes after we entered, we were cooking, as it was at this point 12 hours since the last meal.
The overwhelming thing was the wall. Oh, my good.
I have to say it.
It is crazy. Cra. Zy.
Double metal fence construction over hills and around corners keeps the two countries separate.
The airport is right on the border, and so is most of the road leading from the airport to Tijuana City and later to Tijuana Playa.
I don’t even know what to say about it. Yet.
I have to feel it for a few days and might have to read something. For now, it is just strange.
With love
Cecilie Conrad
Thank you for reading
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