Ensenada
Though I have seen grand palaces and castles, stood before centuries old art and marveled at architecture that has endured millennia, I have discovered the people I meet make a trip more meaningful than the places I see. Several years ago my brother and I planned a reunion that included a cruise from Long Beach, to Catalina to Ensenada and back. This was not an exotic destination but it remains a favorite trip because of one day in Ensenada.
We took the typical tourist trip to the Bufadora, a cove where the tide comes in and the water spouts out of a natural made blow hole. As a family of six we were limited in our taxi choices and weren't able to pair up with anyone else from my sibling group, so we found a driver of a van and made a go of it. I sat in the passenger seat next to the driver. After several minutes, he realized that I could actually speak Spanish and I asked how much he would charge to give us a tour of the city. The price was so reasonable that I didn't even consult my wife to make sure it was alright.
Once we had seen the blowhole and purchased souvenirs, we returned to the taxi and began our tour. As we drove about he talked about his family, the hard work to make ends meet and the kindness of his wife and children. When it came time to eat I asked him to take us someplace where the tourists don't go, rather a restaurant where he goes with his family. He drove us right to his neighborhood. The first place was already closed but he knew of a second spot. As we entered the café it was clear that he had been there many times before as they knew our driver by name. We ate a delicious meal and because we had been introduced as friends, we were treated as such by all staff and other guests in the restaurant.
After we ate, the man drove us past his home. It was humble. Because his family wasn't at home at that moment we didn't stop or he would have introduced us. He then took us to the cathedral. My time in Spain has forever created a love of these buildings. We then took a driving tour to what seemed to be the highest and wealthiest part of Ensenada. From that vantage point I could make out a city that was much larger than I had originally thought. When we realized the time, he rushed us to the port so we would make it back onto the ship. I had to say a far to hasty goodbye and I hope our visit meant as much to him as it did to me. I discovered that Ensenada is not a wealthy city, but if our driver is representative of its people, it is a place that I would be honored to call home.
We took the typical tourist trip to the Bufadora, a cove where the tide comes in and the water spouts out of a natural made blow hole. As a family of six we were limited in our taxi choices and weren't able to pair up with anyone else from my sibling group, so we found a driver of a van and made a go of it. I sat in the passenger seat next to the driver. After several minutes, he realized that I could actually speak Spanish and I asked how much he would charge to give us a tour of the city. The price was so reasonable that I didn't even consult my wife to make sure it was alright.
Once we had seen the blowhole and purchased souvenirs, we returned to the taxi and began our tour. As we drove about he talked about his family, the hard work to make ends meet and the kindness of his wife and children. When it came time to eat I asked him to take us someplace where the tourists don't go, rather a restaurant where he goes with his family. He drove us right to his neighborhood. The first place was already closed but he knew of a second spot. As we entered the café it was clear that he had been there many times before as they knew our driver by name. We ate a delicious meal and because we had been introduced as friends, we were treated as such by all staff and other guests in the restaurant.
After we ate, the man drove us past his home. It was humble. Because his family wasn't at home at that moment we didn't stop or he would have introduced us. He then took us to the cathedral. My time in Spain has forever created a love of these buildings. We then took a driving tour to what seemed to be the highest and wealthiest part of Ensenada. From that vantage point I could make out a city that was much larger than I had originally thought. When we realized the time, he rushed us to the port so we would make it back onto the ship. I had to say a far to hasty goodbye and I hope our visit meant as much to him as it did to me. I discovered that Ensenada is not a wealthy city, but if our driver is representative of its people, it is a place that I would be honored to call home.
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