Welcome to Ensenada

Chris and I arrived at our first port of call on our sailing adventure, Ensenada Mexico.

The night passage from San Pedro to Ensenada was cold and basically windless. I came up from the cozy boat cabin to my first night watch at 11PM to find this:

                                                                          FOG

Yikes! Ya gotta hate fog, especially at night, and especially on your first night watch in years. Ah, well...fortunately all went well.

We arrived in Ensenada yesterday and are now moored at the Cruiseport Marina.

It's a happy little place. There are many other cruisers here, from Australia, the states, etc. We've been so busy doing the "check-in cha cha" at the Immigration office, getting our internet/cell phone set up, etc., that we haven't had a chance to socialize yet.

Just over the fence from our marina is a gigantic gaggle of sea lions. There must be hundreds of them. They burp, fight, squawk and bark well into the evening. I wish I knew what they were fighting about. We did have a few moment of peace overnight and then they awoke us at dawn with more loud debating of the political topics of the sea lion world.

In the town of Ensenada, there is much evidence of poverty. Many open shops, few shoppers.

There was one very enthusiastic jewelry vendor who kept coming up to me with his wares. I politely declined several times. Finally, he said very solemnly: "Please. I haven't sold anything in two days."

This makes me very sad.

Last night was our first night sleeping in Mexico. Away from home, routine and family. I tossed and turned and did not sleep well. I thought of my family, of my mom and sisters, who helped us cast off the dock lines from San Pedro when we shoved off.

It seems I am in full detox mode. Don't worry, it's not drugs or alcohol.

I am detoxing from routine; from safety; from TV; from the 24 hour news cycle; from constant internet access; from easy availability of family and friends.

Mostly what I am detoxing from is constant stimulation. And constant reassurance that you are there, and that all is well with you.

They say the first 48 hours is the hardest, right? I think I need Dr. Drew.

 Oh yeah, there I go again. No TV! And no TV doctors!

And anyway, does Dr. Drew know how to help THIS kind of detox? Detoxing from routine, from the familiar, from the comfortable? We are weaning ourself off of these things.

And into the unknown.

I admit I cried a bit early this morning. The wonderful hubster held me and just listened as I tried to wade through my emotions.

I cried tears of laughter, joy and overwhelming emotion. This is such a gigantic undertaking! And I already miss my family and friends so much.

But we're 48 hours out. I think the worst has passed. And like with any detox, once you go through the initial emotions, then a new creature emerges.

A new creature who is comfortable with silence. Who does not need constant stimulation.

I'm hoping to come out of this adventure a woman of whom Dr. Drew would be proud.

Anyway, after crying and laughing and talking with my wonderfully understanding husband for an hour this morning, we put on the coffee, came out on the deck and watched the gorgeous sunrise. And laughed at the ridiculous cocophany of the sea lions apparently arguing with one another if the purple or the pink were the more beautiful colors in the display.

And, as usually happens after the blessing of a good cry, I felt a weight lifted off of me as the sun came up. Ready for the next phase of our adventure.

Next stop, Turtle Bay, halfway down the Baja coast. But we're here in Ensenada for at least a couple of days until two storms pass through.