As I was heading down the road for a little tour of Posada Concepcion, Michael hollered, “don’t forget Luna’s leash.”
I was a little surprised, Baja feels a bit like the Wild West to me, or like San Francisco in the 60’s ~ peace, love, and anything goes. In the Bay Area, I expect people to get all up in my business for having my dog off leash (or riding my bike, or doing any number of harmless things), but down here it feels a tad ridiculous. That was until I wandered into Posada Concepcion. I was reminded of the X-Files episode, Arcadia, the episode featuring the Tulpa monster, which was created by the HOA (Home Owner’s Association) to keep unruly tenants in line. Almost upon entering the place, while my off-leash girl was sniffing the butt of an off-leash local, I was reprimanded for letting my dog run free. Rich, I thought.
The “town” occupies about one-quarter mile of beachfront, and the houses are stacked on top of each other like Legos. They are also stuffed four rows deep, completely occupying the space between the beach and Mexico Highway 1. There are nicely aligned and signed roads, houses range from fairly nice beach style houses, to palapa-covered RV spaces, they have a large palapa complete with bar and library and an extensive collection of trashy harlequin romances, and mysteries, thrillers, and sci-fi novels. They have built a tennis court inside the compound and there are a couple small, natural hot springs at the water’s edge. The whole place has the feel of an active retirement community advertisement, with groups of women adorned in extra large visors, speed walking the streets; men playing tennis while their women look on adoringly; and a few couples doing hot laps on their upright cruiser bicycles. It all seems very lovely.
Lovely that is until you begin to notice the signs ~ “Do this. Don’t do that. Can’t you read the sign?” There are signs everywhere. On a corkboard there is a list of rules a page long, single-spaced, mixed in with emergency numbers and party announcements. It would not surprise me if there was a CC&R (Covenants, Conditions & Restrictions) handbook that was pages long. This wouldn’t seem so unusual in a place like California, but here in Baja there are miles and miles of uninhabited beachfront property. Additionally, the prices seemed pretty outrageous, $95,000 (US) for one small home in BFE (Bum Fuck Egypt) Baja, and not even ocean view. The other problem, I learned, because of the close proximity of RVs, palm thatch roofs, and liquid propane powered everything, fires ignited and tore throughthe compound with some regularity. I was surprised to learn that the place was established more than 40 years ago, somebody’s vision of heaven. To me it looked more like hell.
I hot-footed it back to my Freaks and Misfits at Playa Escondida next door ~ and a world away.