Long day continued

The mechanic arrived and had the train running again pretty quickly but soon another announcement came over the PA. The train would be terminating two stops short of San diego. We would wait another 15 minutes for the next train. Make that half an hour and we were off again. But at least on this leg of the journey we started to travel alongside the ocean rather than past the back of industrial areas and mediocre housing. There were a lot of surfers out all along the way, and some pretty impressive beachside mansions. I could feel a few knots working out of my tired body.
At San Diego I planned to get advice about the next couple of legs of my journey. I already knew the area around the border was dodgy and chatting to a lady waiting for that second train to San Diego I was warned about hiring and driving a car to get from where the trolley let me off across the boarder. The Mexican police are well known to be one of the bigger dangers, exploiting Americans at every opportunity. So shelve that idea.
I Suss out the information kiosk, but at 4.30pm that was closed. I ask the ticket sellers about the best way to get to Rosarito Beach. He points me around the corner to a bus company. I get around the corner and the bus company he mentioned is nowhere to be seen but there is another bus company in it's place.
Here is where my faith in people is boosted. The chap in there empathizes with my predicament and goes out of is way to help me. He contacts a shuttle bus company and sorts out a ride for me, luckily catching them before their office closed, they would hold the bus for me. A whole bus!, there were no other passengers booked so I would have to pay the minimum capacity rate, one fare by five. I didn't care!, just get me to that hotel and bed. By now I was hitting 31 hours on the go.
This gorgeous man has printed out a map to the place just before the boarder where the shuttle bus is waiting, as none of the cabbies speak english he explains and fewer have GPS systems, and he walks me out to the cab rank. I was tempted to kiss him.
My Trinidadian cabbie does speak English and he does have a GPS, and is in fact very charming. This doesn't stop him getting lost! The shuttle bus company is holding the bus for me and we can't find their depot. I am close to tears. I feel useless because I have not had an opportunity to organize a sim for my phone or iPad so can't google anything or even find the number of the bus company to ring for further directions. The cabbie has pulled over and is walking around asking questions. I ring my cousin Cathy in LA, and ask her to find the number of the bus company for me, just as the cabbie returns and says he' found where it is! Fucking hooray. Do I care the cab fare has gone up nearly $20 while we looked for the place? And we would never have found it if the cabbie hadn't asked around. It was stuck inside an enclosure where market stalls were. There was a sign but it was nestled in amongst other signs and awnings and both the driver and I had missed it.
The cabbie wishes me all the best, says he'll pray for me for the rest of my holiday and I'm off. To my hotel. TO MY HOTEL!


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