Back to Guerrero Negro

We left our new friend in San Ignacio and followed her suggestion that we visit a beach area known as Campo Rene.
First thing north of San Ignacio was the military checkpoint, the same one that actually searched our car on the way down. They were just as busy enforcing the law this time through, but shortly after that we cut southwest to the beach.
What a wonderful area of coral and shells! We could have spent a day – if we’d had a whole day and if it hadn’t been chilly and windy. But once again, weather conspired against us and we moved on.
The rest of the trip was just a few hours long and we were back in Guerrero Negro.
We pulled into the same motel, the San Ignacio, and we greeted as old friends.  Although we like this little motel, should you come this way there is one thing you need to know: the bathrooms are pretty bad.
In our first room, the toilet didn’t flush, that is, until it chose to overflow. Then it actually did flush but it flooded the small bathroom.
In this room, the toilet flushes. Sometimes on its one, but it flushes. There is also a leak and the floor is always wet. No problem. Our friend here gave us a mop to use. 
After settling in (and mopping the bathroom a few times), we went to dinner and had one of the least expensive meals on our trip at one of the more interesting restaurants.
Keep in mind here that “interesting” can be used in many ways.
Our restaurant of choice was not a restaurant but a figon. What is a figon? It’s a fonda. What is a fonda? Why, it is a little restaurant!
In Spain, there are figones rather than cafes. The old owner of this little place- just five tables – called it a figon because figones are taxed at a lower rate than restaurants and cafes.
This little place was old and a bit musty. There were four windows, but one of wall openings was filled with what seemed to be a very old, dimpled plastic shower enclosure that had yellowed. 
The windows each had limp orange curtains drooping from bent rods. Except for the window filled with the old shower enclosure. Since no one could see through, I guess the owner felt as though that window didn’t need curtains.
The walls were decorated with old photos, mostly of the nearby salt mining operation. One wall had a mural of a lighthouse. A plant filled one corner and maintained a small colony of spiders.
There was one very inconsistent decorative item – a photo of a couple sitting at our very table. I figured it might be the old man’s kids or grandkids. When I asked, he shuffled to the counter and picked up a few papers to show us. One was a copy of the photo and the other was a promo for a movie. The movie, Bajo el Sal (below the salt) had been shot in Guerrero Negro, and one piece if it had been filmed in this figon. The owner was delighted to have had his business in a movie and delighted to tell us about it.
A sweet old dog came in after we arrived and dozed on the floor with one eye open, monitoring our table for food that might spill, but he left disappointed. We are every bite.

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