Losing our van down the Baja

 

I’ve always had this dream of buying a Volkswagen van and traveling through Mexico. Specifically, I wanted to drive from Washington down the Mexican Baja. Maybe I read it in a book, or saw a movie, but it seemed like a wonderful way to travel. Of course, when something is meant to be, it usually falls into your lap in the most unlikely way. I was shopping at our local grocery store one spring morning and noticed a Westphalia Volkswagen van parked across the street with a “For Sale” sign.  The next day it was mine. The actual trip began after 2 months of fixing up the van for its trek down the Baja.

The beginning of the journey was uneventful. We visited a few cities along the way, but managed to make Tijuana on our third day out. Stopping for the night to camp at the first beach we found, we celebrated with wine we purchased at a local vineyard. The next morning we decided to eat lunch in Ensenada and parked two streets from the main tourist avenue. Less than an hour later, we were tired of the throngs of people and headed back to the van. Walking to where I thought we’d parked, I was surprised that I must have misread the street sign, because our van was not there. We frantically searched the surrounding streets and wound up back in the original parking place. It was then we noticed the pile of glass. Someone took our van and everything in it! Looking around, we noticed that there were some interestingly dressed women in front of the building. We had parked in front of a brothel! Luckily one of the ladies spoke English and informed us that our van had been towed by a police car.

The police showed up a few minutes later and one of the officers explained that they noticed the van had recently been broken into, so they towed it to the impound yard. Apparently, they first towed it through town, attached to the back of the squad car to see whether anyone would claim it. I’m not sure what they used to tow it, but the license plate must have slammed up against the police car numerous times judging by its condition.
They offered us a ride to the police station, and we took them up on it. Riding in the back of the police car was certainly an experience—apparently the police cars don’t need to stop at stop signs or red lights—even if it’s not an emergency. After paying the impound fee, the policemen took us to the yard. I was wondering why the impound yard man was inside the van, and my Spanish wasn’t good enough to know what the officer was saying to him as he yelled at him to get out of the van. We’ll never know how much was taken during the initial break-in, and what the impound yard people took, but we were glad to have our van back.