Doctor south of the border

SAN FELIPE, Baja California -- None of my fancy book learnin' served me all that well this weekend in San Felipe, partially because I've never pushed past Tijuana into Mexico's interior, so I didn't have experience to be my guide. One waitress made fun of my Castillian accent (which it didn't even occur to me to drop until I got called out on it) and I had no idea that they call tires llantas in Mexico (they're neumáticos in Spain).

Vocabulary and ceceo aside, my trip to San Felipe was a great introduction to Mexico. I learned that:

• I am, indeed, addicted to caffeine, but tea is not readily available in San Felipe, nor enticing when it's 95 degrees out. But in Mexico the Coke is made with actual sugar!
• Refried beans would not have been my first choice for breakfast, but chilaquiles are ridiculously tasty.
• Baja California is named as such because California used to be Alta California when it was still a part of Mexico. Judging by the proliferation of CA-plated pimpmobiles and ATVs in San Felipe over the weekend, you wouldn't be faulted for thinking that the tables have turned.
• "Liability" doesn't seem to mean a whole lot to the throngs at the beach in San Felipe, what with 8-year-olds driving ATVs and some guy with a golf cart with wings flying over our heads. Then again, living away from the strong arm of U.S. rules and regulations for a few days was freeing. All that came to an abrupt halt at the sweltering border, where we were asked where we were born and if we had $1000 stashed in the trunk. Even though someone in the car didn't actually give an accurate answer to the first question (will she ever live it down?), we were allowed back into our native, sedate, and regulated land.
  
• When trail mix is driven through the desert in a car with no air conditioning it becomes sludge: