I have traveled to countries all over the world but had never been to Tijuana. It's the nearest non-US city to me, and easily accessible by day trip. Yet embarrassingly, it remained more unknown to me than the hawker centers of Singapore or the old town streets of Prague.
So I set out to change that.
Not wanting an opportunity to go to waste (and wanting to put some miles onto my new car), I decided to go on my soonest day off. Why not? I tried to gather people together to join - but in the end, only Michelle was available for the day trip. And so things began to fall into place: TIJUANA HERE I COME!
It had been a fun week, with two Aussies surfing my couch for a few days. The night before, I had a night out with a close friend who's leaving for grad school. That night I ate yak meat for the first time, took in some live music, and enjoyed good times and Belgian beer. Life was rolling on. Thus, that Saturday, I woke up in the morning feeling like P. Diddy - adventurous and unstoppable. Well, unstoppable until I hit the traffic on the 405.