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Baja California: A Dream Fulfilled
Nine years in Baja California are not merely a measure of time but form the deepest geology of my soul.
Here, in the austere embrace of the desert and the rhythmic song of the sea, memories do not fade into the folds of the past: they crystallise into something eternal. Even now, these fragments live in my thoughts, as my daily life is split between the desert and the Raccordo Anulare, suspended between Italy and Mexico.
The first memory that surfaces is of the dawn when I arrived in La Paz, after spending a melancholic month in Veracruz waiting for the slow customs process.
I crossed Mexico to Los Mochis with my loyal travel companions, Pablo and my Toyota.
Finally, I was there—the dream of years and the hopes I had nurtured had found their destination.
I step out of the car, Pablo wags his tail happily, I take a deep breath, look up, and what appears before me is an inscription on an arch, inviting me to reflect…
After the first shiver, I thought, no, everything will be fine. In my life, I always had an angel protecting me from disasters, so why would that stop now? No… everything will be fine…
Maybe my angel didn’t speak Spanish, or maybe my angel missed the connections to La Paz… whatever the reason, things didn’t go smoothly. It was a tough migration, full of challenges.
But even in that first year, when doubts about having bitten off more than I could chew overwhelmed me, every time I saw the blue sea, I would answer myself… this is why I’m here!
The early days in Baja felt like scheduling a meeting with all my deepest fears. That long-nurtured dream of living here quickly revealed itself to be an inner journey through every unresolved knot waiting for me at the crossroads. Each day, I faced my insecurities, as if the very land of Baja invited me to confront them head-on, to stop avoiding them.
Time passed, but the frenzy within me didn’t slow down. Accustomed to the urgency and efficiency that had always defined my Roman spirit, I clashed with the ancient, philosophical slowness of Mexico.
Here, the HERE AND NOW is law, almost an ancestral dogma: nothing is truly urgent, everything can be postponed until tomorrow, or maybe the day after. I, on the other hand, was consumed by my personal “Impatience Hysteria,” driven by the need to do everything immediately, convinced that speed was always the answer.
This, I quickly realised, was my greatest mistake. My Roman ego—born of two thousand years of history, empires, and conquests—found itself battling against the universal principle of “No pasa nada,” that subtle philosophy governing life in Mexico, and in Baja more than anywhere else.
It was an epic clash of inner worlds and cultures, a battle that tested me like few things in life, a battle I barely survived.
And yet, throughout this time, another reality thrived alongside the challenges: the fulfilment of my deepest dream, that of living the true adventure of Baja.
It was painted in the vibrant hues of sunrises over deserted beaches, where the salty scent of the ocean greeted me the moment I stepped out of my tent.
I truly lived my own western frontier, experiencing the same wonder I felt as a child clutching my Junior Woodchucks Guidebook
Those moments existed, vivid and real, and they are etched forever in my memory.
Thank you, Baja.