Despite all the talk of border fences, drug cartels, and gang warfare, Bill and I decided our adventure to Tombstone, AZ, (about which I will write next week) warranted a stop in Old Mexico — a mere hour’s drive away — to check out, well, drugs.
Oh, don’t look at me like that. We weren’t interested in heroin or cocaine. But we had heard how easy and inexpensive — and how perfectly legal — it was to get prescriptions from the Mexican border towns. We thought we would check out the cost of some of our various and sundry medications. Money doesn’t grow on trees you know.
I won’t lie. I was substantially uneasy as we made the absolutely beautiful drive down to Nogales, AZ, where we planned on parking our car and walking across the border into Nogales, Mexico. We had talked to people who did exactly that on a routine basis, and were told it couldn’t be simpler.
We found a parking lot in Nogales, AZ, and began the very short walk across the much- talked-about border, through the opening in the enormous metal border wall. We were accompanied not by villains and thugs, but by other senior citizens on the same mission as we. It was quite amusing, actually.
In about a minute, Bill told me we were in Mexico. No one had said a word to us, so I was taken by surprise. I don’t know what I was expecting, really. A strip search? A shake down? A mariachi band? What we got instead was an immediate barrage of Mexican businessmen and women inviting us to buy buy buy drugs from their pharmacy. We stopped at literally the first pharmacy in Mexico, learned that they didn’t carry the only one of Bill’s medications that is expensive, and our shopping was complete.
Oh, being in Mexico and all, we did walk through some of the shops selling cigars that may or may not have been Cuban, tried on “Ray Ban” sunglasses that fit crookedly on our noses, and watched the hustle bustle of the busy city. And then we headed to cross the border back into the United States, uncertain of what to expect.
At some point I realized that I had forgotten to take my morning pills which I had stuck in my pocket. I was ridiculously convinced I would end up in a Mexican prison for trying to sneak in a glucosamine and calcium tablet, and a probiotic. I wasn’t.
In fact, though it’s true that we at least had to show a border guard our passports (which we didn’t have to do going into Mexico), he barely looked at them and seemed more interested in what he was going to eat for lunch. While there might be a demographic that incites interest in border guards, apparently this isn’t it….
And that’s my Thursday thought for today. Adios.
This post linked to Grand Social.