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The dust and heat of the dessert were heavy, oppressive as we sped south in the car. I was immobilized in the passenger seat and Remi, more highly functional in the hot weather, was pretty much solo-piloting our southward road trip. Passing the border in Tijuana, things didn’t cool off much as we headed south down Baja California. The relentless movement of it: what were we running from? Or running to?
Things are in season, fresh, local. The vendors themselves are almost as colorful as their veggies, young and old. People from all over the place live in the city, and the accents you’ll hear are, like in much of the city, diverse.
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An adopted dog, a new year, a trip to Guatemala. It's been a good year!