The Ensenada waterfront was a riot of activity.  Shoppers plied the fly-covered fish stalls of the harborside market while workers cleaned the morning’s catch and countless hungry seagulls circled above.  Overfed harbor seals barked from the rocks below the seawall; charter-boat owners heckled passing tourists; grime-streaked children begged for anything anyone could spare.  Around everything hung the heavy odor of salt water and spoiling fish.

Fifty yards away beyond a stone wall crusted white with bird droppings, two small wooden rowboats clung to a rotting dock.  The market clamor passed them by.  Fifteen months later I returned to find them as before, abandoned and forgotten.

Candleholder dudleya (Dudleya candelabrum)
La Bufadora is a curious fluke of geology and wave action:  Pacific Ocean breakers, upon reaching a rocky cliff south of Ensenada, funnel into a narrow basaltic notch and blast high onto the rocks in a blinding sheet of spray.  It's an interesting spectacle at high tide, but the quarter-mile gantlet of kitsch vendors guarding its tourist-crammed viewing platform makes for a daunting approach.  Far above the crowds, however, a narrow rocky trail leads downward from the highway to a viewpoint atop a cliff.  The waterspout is far away but the people are also.  The only competition is from lizards and a few brightly-colored plants.