Book — Confessions of a Tour Guide: Chapter 17.5 — Ensenada Again And the Last Bachelor Tour.

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Chapter 17.5. Ensenada Again And the Last Bachelor Tour.

And yes.

That was a fucking gruesome tour. By the end of it, I told them I was retiring. They might have been the last bachelor tour I ever do. 

 

Fifteen fucking people. I guess one didn’t show up. Or I was the sixteenth.

 


 

I was early for the tour. There was absolutely no border wait line. I was supposed to meet them at the border at 4:00 pm. I crossed by 3 pm, didn’t see them until almost 5:30 pm.

 

The bachelor was wasted already. He had been drinking since waking up at around 8ish a.m. His brother seemed to be in control.


 

It was around 7 American-Hindu guys, one Hindu with an accent, and the rest white boys. 

 

Sorry for the generic description. My tours tend to be one big blur. I think I’ve only done around 20 bachelor tours… and I barely remember a single person. Except for Ted. Ted was great.

 

I still have to tell Ted’s story.


 

The tour started at Norte Brewing Company. The views and the beers there are always killer. Moving around 15 people is a pain in the ass. 

 

The bachelor requested Mision 19. We actually reserved the place… 

 

But it’s outside of downtown. Moving 16 people to Mision 19 was a real tough mission. You could say it was an impossible mission…

 

Ok.

 

You can stop reading me now.


 

…..

 

So I decided to skip Mision 19 and convinced them it was the right move. Not only that, fuckers were already wasted and obnoxious. And I’m not taking them to Mision 19 like that. Improvising is the name of the game.

 

I led them to La Cevicheria Nais. On the way there, the bachelor hired mariachis to follow him around and play music. Fucking hilarious shit. 


 

I went directly to the manager of La Cevicheria Nais and told him I had a bachelor party of 16 people. They shuffled so quick to get us a giant table ready for us in the back of the restaurant.

 

The service, like always, was great.

 

Pricey.

 

But fucking great.

 

The total check was around $850+ tip for 16 guys who drank a bottle and a half of tequila, more than 20 mezcal old fashioned drinks, I saw a few mezcalitas going around, and a couple of beers.

 

Also, two or more tacos each and a few specialty plates.

 

Point was… it was a fucking feast.

 

And a drunken feast.

 

The manager of the place came to the bachelor to give him the classic tequila shot from the bottle in his mouth.


 

And from there… to fucking Hong Kong. The biggest craziest brothel I’ve ever seen.

 

Some guys even said the same thing… they’ve been to clubs in Southeast Asia, nothing like this. 


 

Seriously. FUCK THAT PLACE.

 

It’s so good at first, but it’s so bad once you are burnt out. Fuck that place.


 

But if I’m there… I have to enjoy myself. Can’t be at Hong Kong and not get “Chinese food.” And by that I mean, I chose one girl from the hundreds and buy her drinks for her to sit on my lap and dance.

 

She also helped me not to lose the guys. Which was hilarious. Her name was Merlina. 

 

HAHA

 

Fucking Merlina.

 

Like a creep, I asked her her real name later.


Then she showed me pictures of her kid and her American boyfriend. 

She was only 20-years-old. Divorced. She got married at the age of 16. How that is a thing in Mexico still… I have no fucking clue.

She said that it was normal for her and her family. And she was happy to be divorced and working there. She was adorable. But for some reason, her two front teeth were heavily discolored. And her teeth weren’t bad, they didn’t seem crooked or anything. Just the front two were yellow. 


 

The tour ended at 1ish a.m. 

 

Some guys wanted to stay. But instructions of the bachelor and the brother were that everyone must go together back to the border.


 

Somehow I got them all together. Three were lost. So I took the rest of the party to get tacos while I went looking for the missing guys.

 

What a fucking shitshow.

 

But it all ended well.

 

We walked back to the border. It was dark as fuck. The scary bridge with flickering lights didn’t even have lights this time. But it’s fucking 16 dudes. And one guy was 6’8. I doubt robbers want to mess with that group. 


 

By the way, the guy that was 6’8 took a girl to the hotel room and said he couldn’t do anything because the girl said he was too big… He wanted to complain, but that doesn’t really work in Hong Kong and plus fuck it. That sounds like a good excuse to not be with a prostitute.


 

Mission successful. I made decent money + tips. But holy fuck is that shit tiring.


 

And after I dropped them at the border, I had money in my wallet and had the desire to go back. But not to Hong Kong. Just another shitty club in the area. 

 

I’ve learned my mistakes at Rio Verde but for some reason, it was calling me. That place is a dirty drug-fueled mess. Before stepping in, I decided against it. So I went to my classic cantina for a beer.


That was not enough. On my walk home, I decided to check out a drag show… At Villa García bar.

 

And that bar turns out to be a gay Hong Kong or something. So many guys hit on me that night. I accepted a couple of Tecate Lights. There were beautiful transsexual women at a corner of a bar. There were also a lot of non-passable crossdressers.

 

And 10 guys only wearing underwear running around and dancing on everyone. 

 

It’s a fucking riot.

 

Gays have beyond great sex life and I’m jealous of it.

 

But I couldn’t.

 

I lied about my name, told them my name was Charlie. I lied about where I was from, told them I was from Texas. I didn’t even speak Spanish to anyone. 

 

So for a couple hours, I was gay Charlie. And I’m happy to say that a lot of gay guys find me attractive. An older gay couple came to me and told me I was cute and bought me more beer. Transsexuals were giving me the eye. One of them danced on me… and then she got mad because she tried to kiss me and I turned away. Other gay guys tried their luck and I played hard to get. 

 

I felt like a pretty whore. 


 

This chapter was the continuation of Ensenada. It wasn’t meant to talk that much about bachelor parties. 


 

I can’t Ensenada as well as I can Tijuana. I won’t do Valle de Guadalupe tours because I barely know the place. And every time I go it changes.

 

Plus, it’s fucking expensive. And I don’t know much about wine.

 

If you have the chance to go to Valle de Guadalupe… fucking do it.

 

The same goes with Ensenada. It’s an awesome place to visit. And I want to do it more often.


Though I don’t know much about Ensenada… I ended up being a tour guide there last weekend. I knew more than the Americans I was with that had absolutely no clue about Ensenada.

 

Texting my friend Kelvin also helped. He told me where the party was at.


 

Before the wedding, it was some sort of bachelor tour, but not quite. My friend is not into strippers and refused to go to the strip club in Ensenada. The best one, supposedly, is Paris de Noche. I still have never been. From what I heard the next morning… It wasn’t very good. Or not nearly as good as Hong Kong.


Instead of that, we went for street tacos, walked to downtown, did Cantina Hussong’s because is the classic cantina in Ensenada. It was packed, so we moved out after the first beer. Everything seemed shitty and like a tourist trap. Kelvin came up with the suggestion of Distrito Barra Pública.

 

He nailed the suggestion. Quiet place with a nice patio with great beer. Exactly what the party wanted. And after that… everyone back to their hotel for the wedding the next morning.


My hotel…?

 

The groom of the wedding got an Airbnb for me and other people at the wedding. It was fucking next to the house I stayed four years ago.

 

It was a really nice big house, but not as huge as the house next door. Ocean views, it could easily fit 8+ people and it’s only $150 a night. 

 

And the first night, only me and the groom’s brother stayed there. In the kitchen counter, the owners left us a bottle of wine… How romantic.

 

It wasn’t awkward, but it did feel like a waste of space. So for the second night, we invited more people to stay with us after the wedding.


Oh.

 

And the wedding.


 

Wedding was work for me. I also ended up being a translator in general… I ran around everywhere and took thousands of pictures.

 

When my flash died and the party was in general winding down, I sat down exhausted and had some more beer.

 

Yes. I drank throughout the wedding. I take better pictures that way.


I don’t know how it happened.

 

I just know that I was telling her “are you sure you want to do this?” while calling an Uber to the Airbnb. I also remember making out with her.


 

Who was her?

 

Well… the wedding didn’t really have that many attractive women except the bride and older women.

 

And she was old. Yet attractive. And weddings + Ensenada. That’s just a cocktail for disaster. 

 

An actual GILF. She was more than double my age. 


 

Again. I don’t know how it happened.

 

But I took her to an Uber back to the Airbnb with me and we woke up naked next to each other.


That’s all you need to know.

 

And some in the party found out… 

 

Because on my way back to Tijuana from Ensenada they asked me about it. And they saw me as some sort of legend. And the reassurance from the guy that was the same age as me that he would have done the same is nice.

 

For me… 

 

It was one week ago. And I’m still in shock.


Sorry, mom.

 

Hope you never read this but I’m sure you will.


 

Now to move on. I have shit tons of photo work to do. That’s why I might retire my tours. I’m making good money with pictures. And if all this shit that I’m writing makes me good money. Then… fuck. Tours are done for sure. Or just making them hella expensive.

 

Money is good. Mkay? 


 

And my upcoming homework is great. The taco issue. I get to eat tacos, photograph them, and write about it. 

 

That’s what I am doing for the next couple of days. Then more work work work.

 

And soon to be finished with this shit.

Book — Confessions of a Tour Guide: Chapter 17 — Ensenada Adventure.

If you enjoyed this, please support me at: https://www.patreon.com/Matingas


Chapter 17. Ensenada Adventure.

 

I have a tour in a couple hours. It’s 16 people in total. Given their names, I’m pretty sure they are Hindu. Most are coming from New York.

 

I have no desire to do the tour.

 

I’m sure it will go awesome. But I’m tired. 


 

The tour previous to this one… Another one that came to film a reality show went horribly wrong. Just thinking about it makes me livid.

 

I’ll talk about that shit later. 


 

This was a good week. April has gone awesome and it just started. I made money left and right. A friend got married, I did the pictures. He paid me more than what I had asked for.

 

I took way too many pictures. And a huge edit. I can still be better.


 

Got a bunch of other photo work done. I’ve been regularly busy.


 

The wedding was in Ensenada.

 

And here’s the thing about Ensenada.

 

It’s a fucking awesome place to visit.


 

In a way, it’s a glimpse of what Tijuana used to be. It’s heavily visited by tourist Americans who are too afraid of Tijuana so they choose Ensenada. 

 

In this last visit, I saw that they sold bracelets that read “Fuck Trump.” And also a racist yet somewhat hilarious bracelet that read “I ❤ Nigga Pussy.” 

 

There were a lot of black Americans walking the streets of Ensenada. I wonder what they would think of those bracelets. Or if the Mexicans selling them ever got in trouble. I’m pretty sure they get a kick out of it.


 

You know those woven bracelets that they sell in the touristy beaches of Mexico, right? They don’t really sell those in Tijuana. Seeing that shit is like going back to the 90s. At some point, I wore those bracelets. A lot of them.

 

That point was high school.

 

So yeah. The late 90s.


 

Every damn time I go to fucking Ensenada crazy wild shit happens. This was no exception.

 

And oh…

 

Of wild stories to tell.

 

My fucking life reads like fiction.


 

The first time that Ensenada engulfed me was in 2014, four years ago exactly.

 

I was broke as fuck at the time. I could barely afford rent. I lived day by day wondering when my next paycheck will come.

 

I still live like that… But it’s been getting better…


 

My neighbor knocked on my door. He wanted to go to the Ensenada Beer Fest, Mexico’s biggest and best craft beer festival. I told him I had 300 pesos in my wallet and barely any money in the bank. He said that it will be fine. He wanted company.

 

About where I was staying. He said not to worry, he had a house.

 

About getting into the beer fest, he said not to worry, he knows some people.


 

So out of nothing, I was suddenly on my way to Ensenada with my neighbor who I barely knew. Younger than me, but not by much, he was still going to college. 

 

I haven’t seen him in forever. Cool guy. But I believe he lives in Mexicali now.


 

We arrived at his house in Ensenada. It was his parents’ house in pretty much the nicest neighborhood in the city. On top of the hill, overlooking downtown with views of the ocean and the port. I couldn’t see much from the outside but it seemed like a pretty big house.

 

Where were his parents? “Don’t worry about it, they won’t be back,” he said.


 

The house was locked.

 

He had no key.

 


 

So he called every locksmith in town to figure out a way to get in. But to do this, he had dropped me off at the Ensenada Beer Fest.


 

He left me at the mercy of some girl. I’m sorry that I don’t remember her name. She was cool. I want to guess “Rosa,” but I’m really not sure.

 

Rosa had extra tickets for the beer fest, so I joined her. And with the 300 pesos I had left, I got as much beer as I could. They were selling at 10 to 20 pesos the 4 oz samplers. Plus, they were giving a lot free tasters. It was a lot of fucking beer.


 

The only bad memory I had about that day was at the Donkey Punch Brewery stand. They offered me a beer. Like literally offered me a beer without saying I was buying. They served me two glasses… It was clearly an indication of free beer. The festival was ending and this dude was serving everyone.

 

Then he charged me.

 

Fuck that shit.

 

My final pesos gone.


 

I didn’t hear from my neighbor. I never saw him at the Beer Fest.


 

Rosa took me to a nearby bar. Red Lion. They have that shit in Tijuana (yep, the same as the first bar I went to). It’s a nice looking bar but fucking generic and boring. Beers are cheap. 


 

Rosa bought me a big beer (they serve draft beer in 1-liter bottles of Oso Negro Vodka). There were other friends of hers there. I was tired and drunk and had no idea where I was going to sleep.

 

I knew I had some money on my debit card so I was thinking of getting a hotel for the night. $30-40 hotel if possible. I knew I had at least $100 in the bank.


 

Just as I was looking at the possibility of the hotel, Rosa tells me that my neighbor called and that we should come to the house.


 

Apparently, I went in and told everyone I felt like I was in an episode of House Hunters International. The house opened up to a beautiful living room with huge windows and a huge balcony with views of fucking everything. It was truly astonishing. There were bottles of wine on the counter. The usual Tijuana celebrities were there. 

 

I drank wine and mingled. But I don’t remember much.


 

I think I passed out on the couch.

 

I did.


 

I woke up at 6:00 a.m. in a bedroom by myself. 

 

I walked into this huge bathroom to drink from the sink and cool my head down. 

 

The fucking towels were wrapped like fucking geese as if it was a fucking hotel room.


 

I walked out to the balcony and saw the huge looming house above me. I had no idea where the fuck I was. All I thought was… sleep some more… It will all get clear if you sleep some more.


 

I slept a bit more and then I got woken up by my neighbor who was tapping my forehead with a cold can of Coors Light.

 

He was drinking one already.

 

“Let’s go to my Grandma’s and have brunch,” he said.


 

Before figuring that out… we drank a bit and played Wii U as other people that crashed in the house were figuring out what to do as well. 

 

That was the first time I played Wii U…

 

On the couch, in the living room, there was a black, white, and gold cushion that read “My Other House is in Paris.”

 

“Where are your parents?” I asked.

 

“In Paris,” was the obvious reply.


 

His grandma’s house was also a beautiful villa. Not as huge as the house overlooking Ensenada, but more of a traditional Mexican house with a nice patio with fruit-bearing trees.

 

His grandma not only treated us to a traditional and amazing grandma brunch she brought out caguamas.

 

So we drank beers with the abuelita while she told some horror stories that happened recently in the family. A horrible robbery that happened. It killed the mood a bit.

 

Fucking Ensenada.

 

But they were all fine still alive and healthy. So the mood lightened up and we drank more and ate more.


 

Later that night we met with more of his Ensenada friends. We were supposed to go back to Tijuana, but we ended up in the huge house with people drinking wine and smoking weed looking at the sunset in the magnificent fucking balcony.


 

That was my first time in Ensenada. Ever since… I’ve had plenty of good times down there.

 

The latest comes next.

 

Now I have to get ready for the tour. It’s going to be a long one. I’m not totally ready. I do not want to do this.


 

I might retire soon. It’s not the first time I’ve said that. But I’m burnt out. Tours take a toll.


If you enjoyed this, please support me at: https://www.patreon.com/Matingas

 

 

Valle Part 2 – Las Hijas de la Tiznada and La Cocina de Doña Esthela

Valle Part 2:

First of all, I forgot to give special thanks to Joe Moon for taking me to Valle in the first place. Otherwise, I would have never gone.


You see, my brother forgot to tell me that his friends had arrived and that they were going to Valle already… he told me when they were already on the way and said “but join us later.”

Luckily, Joe was going to Ensenada the following morning. After having some bomb ass enchilados from Los Compadres, we made our way to Ensenada. Except, I didn’t know where I was going.

Joe was cool enough to drop me off at the actual awesome Airbnb.

Truly appreciate that.


For those who don’t know the ultimate enchilado, it has been my favorite spicy shrimp taco for a long time. Here’s a gallery:

https://imgur.com/gallery/NswFV


On the last post I talked about Península en el Valle on a Saturday afternoon. Really great food in a very lovely day.

Sunday morning wasn’t as pretty.


At around noon time, the gang headed to La Cocina de Doña Esthela, widely popular and known as the very cheap for amazing quality.

Before even getting there, I noticed it was PACKED as fuck. One large bus for at least 40 people was parked outside. At least 4 vans for 12-18 people each were parked inside. Another 30+ cars were parked in and outside the place. We parked outside and walked in… to see hundreds of people packed waiting to be served.

At least one or two hours… TO FUCKING REGISTER to wait.

Yeah. Fuck that.

Before even entering I told my brother “fuck this, if we are waiting, somehow I’m going somewhere else.” He got mad for not sticking to the plan… but after figuring out that the wait was going to be massive, we left.

Where?!

WHERE?!?!

That was the question.


I messaged our trusty chef from our previous night to suggest something.

He recommended Tizne, two friends of him opened the place and he said it was great.


It was a bit difficult to find. It’s also called Hijas de la Tiznada not only Tizne. Google Maps wasn’t accurate, it also said they opened at noon… they weren’t.


It’s inside Viña Emiliana, which was open but not really… it was weird and we were lost.

When we finally found a spot that seemed to be the place, they were unprepared and having a staff meeting. I asked if it was the right place, they said it was. I asked if they were open, and though they said they weren’t they promptly said but we will soon if you guys wait for a second.

So we did.


The scenery of Viña Emiliana was lovely, but it was also closed, so there was no wine to taste or anything to do but just sit for a while and enjoy the breeze in the hot day. After a while, they received us in the outside restaurant.

Tizne means smoke or charred (fire spots). I didn’t know that until now. Interesting.

I usually don’t like burnt food but I do enjoy smokey flavors.


For the menu, just like Península en el Valle, no drinks, but worse. They had no beer, no wine, just Pellegrino sodas and some stuff that got ignored.

And for the food menu, only a handful of options. I asked the chef… and from those handful of options, only 2 were actually available, and the other were meat cuts at a hefty price (regular price for Valle).

BUT IT WAS BREAKFAST or Brunch time. There were no really options for that. We all got the same thing that was on the special menu.

From the actual menu, there were no options except a ceviche. They didn’t have octopus (which is what I wanted) and they didn’t have much else…

So we all got the risottos, a couple of sopes (which were tiny), and a ceviche in the middle.

Table!

The black little spots is the Tizne. You can never go wrong with ceviche and add the tizne touch to make it extra good.

That was the risotto with braised beef ribs topped with tomatillos.

Marc’s risotto looked prettier than mine.

It was good, but not exactly what I desired for breakfast. I felt like I was forced to eat something I didn’t really want just because of the lack of options. It would have been a nice appetizer in a small plate and continue to something bigger.

The tiny tiny sopes with shrimp. Again, really good, but not exactly what I would want or order. The black sauce was delicious.

The best thing they brought us was the bread at the beginning with some tizne sauce they had. I didn’t take a picture of that because I didn’t know it was going to be the best thing… And they only brought us one bread and one sauce (despite officially being two tables). If we wanted more, it was going to cost us. I would have just eaten a bunch of that bread and sauce, get some cheeses, and sip on some wine…

BUT, those weren’t the choices.


Conclusion: We weren’t prepared for Tizne, Tizne was not at all prepared for us.

With so many restaurants to try, I probably won’t go back, but who knows! I really want to go to Valle more and I am confident that Tizne can be way better.

If Tizne is your thing, then by all means, hunt this place down and try it. If you are not fan of Tizne, then there are many more restaurants to try.


After that, we went to a local tiendita and bought everything to not leave the Airbnb. Beers, meatsies, frutsis, spices, snacks, tortillas, salsas, and more beers!


We didn’t leave the Airbnb that night or the day after.

That was my attempt at Astrophotography while chugging a beer. Problem is, the Airbnb had bright lights on either side of the house that ruined my attempts.

A winery nearby has an awesome statue that would make it DOPE as fuck to get some astro there. I want to get the same Airbnb and hit up the winery to let me in at midnight to take pictures (and then sell them the pictures!) Something like that…


Monday in Valle was all pool and beer drinking while grilling meatsies.


We left Tuesday morning and this time we did go to La Cocina de Doña Esthela.

It wasn’t packed anymore, but it was 3/4s full. The waiter acted as if it was packed though. He kept getting the orders wrong (after asking it several times) and kept rushing between tables looking nervous…

But anyway, there we all basically got the machaca de borrego.

The order comes with tortillas and beans, the waiter forgot them, then brought the tortillas and forgot the beans.

We asked for 5 coffees (2 regular, 3 de olla), a round of waters, and two diet cokes. He brought 4 coffees (all de olla), two waters, and an orange juice we didn’t ask for…

It took him almost until we were leaving to bring the beans and the regular coffee I had ask for. He also only brought one diet coke eventually, but oh well. The bill was all over the place….


As for the food, I wasn’t feeling very hungry, and again, not what I wanted for breakfast. The menu had a lot of breakfast items, but they all seem fair standard and the machaca de borrego seemed to be the strong plate. It was ok for me.

I got it in a box to go, threw in a tortilla, mixed all the machaca with the broth and some beans, and left it on my counter at home for a few hours.

I came back to it when I was hungry, AND IT WAS WAY BETTER!

The broth marinating the meat with a bunch of beans truly brought out the flavor… Or maybe I was feeling hungrier. I am not sure, I just know that it was WAY better that way than when I was having it at the restaurant.