Ensenada in the Morning
Ensenada, as most of Baja, is a captivatingly dirty place. Every coastline, corner, and alley is veritably littered with photogenic charm. The marine layer arrives thick in the Autumn months, and stays much of the day. Its light haze mixes with the dust of unfinished infrastructure and sun, spreading a twinkling glow from la zona centro all the way to the malecon. The only deliberately swift and forward motion in town this Halloween morning is my black-sweatered figure, long in stride and towing two tiny, reluctant chihuahuas behind me. The locals move mostly vertically. They clean, hang, and lift, preparing their tiny tiendas for the day's pedestrian haul. A cruise ship arrives in two hours and the streets will transform this hazy heaven laced with faint sounds of Mexican polka to a swarming anthill of visor-clad tourists and pop music. The coffee stand is bustling this morning. One single patron nods a warm hello as I arrive, and moves down a stool to give me access to the...