With the wagons loaded we hit the road at the break of dawn, headed for the Pacific coast. Toll roads straight from San Jose made road-tripping quick, comfortable and accessible. With our faces pressed to the window, we could see the water spouts from migrating humpback whales between the cactuses that lined the side of the road. It was around this time that my scepticism started to wane and my excitement as to what lie ahead started to grow.
We turned off of the main strip and bounced our way down an unmarked dirt track that ran down to the ocean. Bar a few happy and well established campers the coastline was just about empty and although not swell season in December, it was clearly a shangri-la for surfers and paddlers: sets were grinding down the reefs running perpendicular to the shoreline. No man could be expected to try and pitch a tent first, so we all jumped straight into the sunset session. Drying off around the campfire under the starry night sky, we filled our surfed out bodies with tacos before falling into our tents at ‘Baja midnight’ – a common term for 9pm or when the sun goes down.
