LOS ANGELES, UNITED STATES. I was on a mission. But was I ready for it? That question lingered in my mind when I disembarked the plane at LA Airport. It didn’t feel like it.
Fourteen hours earlier, I had left New Zealand, and for the first time in my life, I wasn’t ready to leave—this was a new experience. A heavy sadness overcame me when I thought about all the beautiful people and the sense of home I left behind…
Sad and sleep-deprived, I mechanically underwent the nonsensical procedure of U.S. Border Control. As if I, a German citizen, wanted to illegally immigrate to the US, of all places. Internally, I shook my head. At least this time, the border control officer was nice. I got my permission and half an hour later, I stood outside the airport. I took a deep breath. I have a mission, I reminded myself: The Gray Whales of Baja California Sur.
My fascination with Gray Whales began after watching Cristina Mittermeier’s series „The Voyage“ on YouTube. It became a Life’s Bucket List Item to see them in one of the three lagoons of Baja California Sur, Mexico, the place where they mate and have their calves.
Visiting the Gray Whales in their nurseries wasn’t a normal whale watching tour; no, if you are lucky, the whales might come over for a head scrub or to present their babies. So you could actually interact with these gentle beings. The thought of this made me excited.
But first, I had to get there. Some 1000km and fourteen days of travel were separating me from the whales.
I saw the irony behind it: Gray Whales actually have the longest migration of all mammals. 19,000 km from their feeding grounds in the Arctic to their nurseries in Mexico. Their journey takes them around two to three months and a six month’s fast. Well, I’m not off too bad then, I thought, when entering the coach bus to Downtown LA.
What I didn’t expect back then was that this trip wasn’t solely about whales. I was in for a long journey. Very long. But also a tremendously interesting and insightful one.
ABOVE: The Hollywood Hills, as viewed from Griffith Observatory.
DAY 1 - 3: Los Angeles, United States
My hostel was in Korea Town, so I had to take the metro to get there. Stepping down the escalator to my platform at LA Metro Station, the first thing that greeted me in this city was a homeless and mentally ill woman of color being bothered by four armed security guards. What the f*ck, were obviously my first thoughts.
Witnessing this intense scene and seeing all these armed guards, I thought it maybe wasn’t unwise to ask a local ticket officer about the metro’s safety. With the woman screaming and aggressively requesting to be left alone in the background, the ticket officer just laughed.
„Yeah, it’s safe to take the metro,“ he said.
„Also at night?“ I asked.
He laughed again. „Yeah, also at night.“ He briefly paused. „Well, but at night, the areas around the metro stations are maybe not particularly safe,“ he added thoughtfully. Aha. Very assuring, I thought.
We then had a nice chat about European politics, and after missing three metros because of it, I finally arrived at my hostel. To fight my jet lag, I ventured out to the Walk of Fame. But as I strolled around in the evening sun, staring down at the ground, frantically searching for Matthew McConaughey’s star, I got a hunch.
Every now and then, it happens that there are places I don’t connect with. They simply don’t vibe with me. And in the following two days, I got exactly this feeling with LA.
ABOVE: Santa Monica Pier. In retrospect, I should have photographed not just the pleasant sights but also the situations I encountered on the streets.
Truth be told, it wasn’t hard to not connect with LA. While walking around the city, I saw things that shook me. And walking was my first mistake in this city, as a fellow traveler later told me.
On the dirty sidewalks, I was attacked two times and yelled at several times by some of the hundreds of drug addicts that pave the LA cityscape. Most of those homeless people were black, a testament to the racial disparity in the US.
Near the places of the rich, there were addicts knocked out on fentanyl or having manic episodes while bright green Lamborghinis and luxurious Mercedes passed by with pretentious motor sounds. No signs of empathy for the misery of others were to be found in this city.
The contrast was very stark, and the atmosphere was tense; I could feel it. Even normal people gave me vibes that they were mentally struggling. The Latinos, a culture normally so full of life and warmth, had only dead, blank stares, hustling day and night to keep the US economy running.
I’ve seen some misery on my travels, but I guess it’s more shocking to witness such a level in a country that hypothetically has all the resources to fight these social problems.
The days passed by like a fever dream. I just wanted to leave, felt out of balance, and totally lost my sense of being in the moment. Mechanically, I did the obligatory sightseeing spots, but my thoughts stayed the same all the while: This is not my city.
Taking the Flixbus to San Diego after three days was a relief.
ABOVE: A seagull circling over the whale watching boat in San Diego Bay.
DAY 4 - 6: San Diego, United States
San Diego, with its cleanliness and calm, was a welcome change. My mind relaxed noticeably, and suddenly there was space again for an important thought: Gray Whales! LA had been so intense that I had no mental capacity to think about my mission.
Here, it was possible to see Gray Whales.
They pass along the California coastline on their way to the nurseries and back to their feeding grounds. This was actually the most dangerous part of their journey. Since the whales couldn’t always stay close to the coastline, especially around the Monterey Bay Area, they were vulnerable to attacks by their only predators: Orcas.
Around a third of the calves get killed on their way to the Arctic. The orcas, who work together in highly organized groups, separate the calf from the mother and then press it down to drown it.
At this point in time, in late March, the calves were still in the lagoons of Mexico, so it would only be the males and the non-pregnant females who would pass along San Diego right now. Nevertheless, I was ready for action.
I booked the whale-watching tour and was on my adventure. After the frenzy of the LA cityscape, it felt great being back in nature. I felt excited like a child seeing all these seabirds in the harbor, and after embarking the vessel and being out on the ocean, I was back in my element.
Scanning the horizon, I saw a pair of Bottlenose Dolphins and a pod of the smaller Common Dolphins. But no whales.
It stayed that way until we headed back to the harbor. But then…
ABOVE: A pod of Common Dolphins using the bow wave created by the boat to travel more effortlessly.
On the way back, there was some stirring in the water.
In the distance, a smooth grey back appeared briefly and then vanished again under the waves.
The boat circled, but to no avail. The crew said that this was most probably a Fin Whale, but me being a nerd doubted that. Fin Whales are the second-largest animals on this planet, and what was moving there was definitely not that big. But we never found out what it was.
So, no whales.
That was alright for me. The thing about animal encounters is that you can’t preplan them. You either are lucky, or you aren’t. There is nothing you can do about it.
I think there is actually something spiritual about seeing wildlife. You simply have to let go. Past experiences had proven that exactly in this space of no-mind, no expectations, the best animal encounters happen. My theory was going to be proven beyond doubt, later in the lagoons of Mexico.
However, the two days in San Diego passed quickly. I met some cool people in the hostel, and then, when it was time for me to leave… it was time for one of my mad ideas.
ABOVE: Common Dolphins swimming in San Diego Bay.
DAY 7: Tijuana & La Paz, Mexico
I don’t know what I had thought back then, but somehow I had the great idea to cross the Mexican border on a $10 Greyhound bus via the land checkpoint in Tijuana.
This border area has publicly the image of not being safe. And also, my Mexican friends had attested that whereas Tijuana was nice to visit, one should be careful because it was apparently „un poco peligroso“ (A bit dangerous).
So here I was in a cheap bus, the only person looking like a gringo, naively smiling and being all excited about the experience.
Besides me, there were just a handful of elderly Mexicans, all smiling warmly, and a motivated Mexican bus driver equally excited about the experience as I was. Interesting, but funny, I thought.
When looking out of the dirty bus window, I could see the huge steel fence, separating the two countries. Behind it, slowly moving in the wind, a large Mexico-flag and colorful little concrete buildings as far as one could see. I got more excited.
It took around an hour to reach the border checkpoint. Hundreds of cars were waiting to cross the border. On the other side, entering into the USA, there were only one or two cars every minute. Sarcastically, I thought: Isn’t that strange?
However, finally, it was time to disembark. The bus driver got even more excited and smiled broadly to everyone. „Nos vemos en el otro lado!“ (See you on the other side!), he exclaimed. And off he went with his documents.
So here I was, entering the Mexican border via land. I was tense. I hated border crossings, a couple of bad experiences still vibrated in my system. So I took my backpack, entered the grey, dystopian-looking concrete checkpoint…
ABOVE: View of Tijuana from the highway leading to the border area.
LEFT: View of Tijuana from the highway leading to the border area.
RIGHT: Entrance to Tijuana just after the border crossing.
BELOW: Entrance to Tijuana just after the border crossing.
And was surprised!
Everyone was nice. People didn’t care about me being a foreigner. So I paid my 45 USD visa at the counter and went to the border control officer.
„Cuántos días quieres quedarte aquí?“ (How many days do you want to stay here?), he asked me. „Ähhhm seis meses?“ (Six months?), I responded hesitantly. „Turista?“ (Tourist?). „Sí.“ Bang, he hammered the stamp into my passport and with it my half-a-year visa. I made it back to Mexico.
Afterwards, a soldier half-heartedly searched my baggage and saw how happy I was. „Bienvenido a mexico“ (Welcome to Mexico), she said with a smile. „Es mucho mejor aquí, allá en Estados Unidos están todos locos“ (It’s way better here, over there in the States they are all crazy), she said rolling her eyes and then laughing. „Ayy, no tienes idea.“ (Oh, you have no idea), I said laughing as well.
I left the checkpoint and came to the bus and was welcomed by a committee of happily smiling elderly people and a radiating bus driver. Everyone was in the best mood.
So it turned out the bus driver was excited because he was so happy to leave the United States. And all the elderly people as well.
Well, and the border area didn’t turn out to be unsafe at all.
I dropped off at the final stop, the Tijuana bus station, and took an Uber to the airport, where I had to wait until 4 am to take my flight to La Paz, another of my glorious ideas. A flight that I had only booked because all the foreign websites had propagated that the state of Baja California was extremely dangerous, so you shouldn’t take one of the night buses. Another bad stereotype how it turned out.
So my conclusion about the past first week,
United States: Loco and unsafe. Mexico: Sane and safe.
But now that I was in Mexico, my main mission was more relevant than ever: The Gray Whales of Baja California Sur. And boy, I wasn’t disappointed, to say the least.
Stay tuned.
[To be continued]
