I had a business trip scheduled to Yuma, AZ today and I promised a fellow Hombre that I would check out the scene and mongering at San Luis MX, which is about 30 minutes south of Yuma.
I never got there.
In talking to a number of folks in the Yuma area (including several Marines) I learned that San Luis is dying and that the small town of Algodones is growing like crazy. Every single person I spoke with told me to go to Algodones rather than San Luis. So I went.
Actually, we went. My travelling companion, whom I refer to as UIC (See my Nogales trip report for an explaination) rode shotgun. We were both a bit cash-strapped, but felt that it was a good time (noon) to get a feel for the town.
To get there from Yuma, you jump back on I-8 heading for California. One or two exits there is a sign that mentions Algodones and you turn off there and head south. Within a matter of minutes you are atthe border. There is a fairly new, and quite extensive parking area there. The fee is $3.00. It is run by one of the local Indian tribes and it closes at 8 p.m.
After we alighted from our vehicle, with bottles of cold water in hand, we walked through the border. There was a small sign explaining that they were using the red light/green light system for inspections, similar to the one that rarely works in Nogales. Yet, as we walked through, we didn't see a single individual minding the border. Why, we could have stolen the entire country (or at least the entry booth) and no one would have noticed.
As you walk into the downtown part of the town, which does not seem much larger then Zona Roja in TJ, you are on Calle Premera. The first thing you will notice is the overabundance optical shops. The darned things are evrywhere. (Progressives, $60, two hour wait, free eye exam. Single vision $40. Frames included on both deals.) There are more optical shops in Algodones than there are plaster donkeys in TJ.
This street curves 90-degrees to the left. There are shops on both side for about 3 blocks and for a full block to either side. The first street you cross is Calle Segunda. There is a street sign on the corner that identified Calle Premera as "2DA" and Calle Segunda as "A". Don't ask, I haven't a clue.
Before I go any futher, it is relevant to note that there is a major construction boom going on there. The intersection of 2DA and A is completely torn up and decorative paving stones are being put in the intersection. a multistory department store is under construction right as you cross the border. Everywhere things were being built, and the construction quality looked very good.
Now, after you cross straight through this intersection, on the left hand side of the street, hidden by the merchant stalls, are a pair of green doors. Go through the double-double doors and you are in the local hooker bar, Bar Olympica.
When we walked in the first time, I used the pretext of looking for my phantom friend. I was greeted by an English-speaking waiter/pimp who asked me to sit down, but I told him my cover story and looked around for a few minutes.
The club has a bar on the left when you walk in, with lots of pictures of the revolutionary Che on the wall. To the right is a dance floor (about 8x10 with a pole in the center) and there are probably 15-20 tables. there is a room in the back with two pool tables.
During my first entry, there were probably half a dozen women in there, all of whom looked up and tried to make eye contact.
I did my quick survey and we left (since we had more territory to explore). We wandered around in 100 degree heat, but found nothing else that looked like a night club. We may have missed one, but I don't think so.
Now, if you go there and cannot find the club, just go to the police station -- it is directly across the street.
So, after working up a sweat, we went back in. Now there were even more women (1 p.m.). In general I would rate the women in the 3-6 scale. Every one of them was overweight.
Well, we sat down and UIC tried to convince me that I was wrong about it being a hooker bar. He pointed out that some of the women were sitting in pairs at tables, talking with each other. Some were sitting at tables eating. I told UIC that he was terribly misguided and I apologized for failing to educate him properly. He asked when I first thought it was a hooker bar and I told him "during the first visit when we were 3 steps in the door." "How," he asked? "Simple, grashopper," I explained. "It is a bar with no front-facing windows, there is an English-speaking waiter/pimp stationed at the front door, the place is full of women, all of whom tried to make eye-contact when we came in, plus the pole in the center of the dance floor is a good indicator." He still had his doubts, until an overweight woman came to our table, pulled up a chair, sat down, grabbed me by the crotch and asked me to buy her a drink.
Sure, my little head said, and she asked for a beer. My $5 bought a small bottle of Corona and a plastic drinking cup. Aqua Mineral was $1.50 a glass. I watch as the waiter handed her $2 when he brought back my change.
We sat there for about 10 minutes while she rubbed my crotch, and tried to get me to go to her room. $40 for massage, blow job and sex.
I turned to UIC and explained, "she is so ugly I wouldn't poke her with yours". On that note, we left. It was 2 p.m, there was absolutely no one I would have poked there -- but, the place definitely has possibilities. The drive time is about hte same from Phoenix as Nogales. No booths, no six-minute man scenarios. In that regard it is much like TJ. Not sure if the $40 is negotiable and not sure if there is also a hotel fee. The hotel is out the front door to the left, one or two doors down.
Now, here is the killer. I mentioned that the parking lot closes at 8, well, the border corssing itself closes at 10. Miss that and you are stuck there overnight. Not sure what happens to your car after 8 p.m.
I'll definitely come back when I can stay longer and when I have more liquidity. I saw no reason to bring a car across, you can walk through the entire town in 10 minutes (and probably get a pair of glasses made at the same time).
Still, it tickled my imagination.