I was decently drunk when I shot my one perfect moment in Mexico. We were at Rosarito Beach for the weekend, one night in fact, staying at what can only be described as a questionable hotel.
|Papas and Beer. Lots of beer in fact|
It was 2004 and I was still shooting film. My fear of having gear nicked was so great I spent every waking moment of the trip with my whole kit awkwardly strapped to me in a backpack.
|Beautiful sunset, very dirty beach|
A bucket of beers was twenty dollars, and at a dollar a beer in that climate what are you going to do? I drank a lot of Sol, danced badly to doof-doof music, rode a mechanical bull and even licked a margarita off the chest of a friend (who shall remain nameless) for a dare.
Good times! You didn't need to go far beyond the edges of the tourist resorts to see the seedy, tatty side of Mexico. The desperation of the locals is almost visible bubbling under the surface of their impoverished smiles as they force trinkets on you in the street, or even right on the beach as you stepped outside the confines of your resort.
|Hawkers sell paratrooper kites on the beach|
I stayed away from this, putting up some mental barn doors so I could light up only the beautiful elements of the landscape around me.
One of the best of these elements was the sun setting over the Pacific Ocean, a foreign experience for an Australian east-coaster like myself. Here I was so focused on the ‘Fingers of God’ streaming down through the clouds (read: drunk) I didn't notice the diving cormorant until I had the film developed.
And yes, there are pictures of me riding the mechanical bull. And that will be a no, you're never going to see them :).