For this bike ride, I headed east across the Tijuana River and into the hills near Otay Mesa. I’m not sure what the colonia I found is called, but the people who live there hold an open-air market every Sunday.
My favorite moment? It’s a close tie between being honked at and called “wera” about seven times and seeing a little girl in the open market sticking both her hands deep inside a pile of uncooked pinto beans.
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