Raul Gomez

This post begins at Half Moon Bay and ends up somewhere in the Bay Area. Pardon me if I say some things I've already said...

I think it was last Wednesday when the English blokes picked me up and took me 20 or 30 miles to Half Moon Bay. From Half Moon Bay I began walking along Route 92 toward San Mateo, unexpectedly climbing a mountain on the way.

About halfway down the mountain a motorist pulled off on the other side of the road to ask me if I wanted a ride. It took a few minutes for me to cross the road and speak to him because there is nearly constant traffic each way. Once I was finally able to cross the road, I spoke to the man for a minute and then hopped into Raul Gomez's Chrysler minivan. Once we got going I knew Raul was going to San Jose, but I was still unsure of where he'd be dropping me off.

Raul is a baker at Safeway in Half Moon Bay. I informed him that I had bought some food at his store a little earlier. (Not that you care.) Having a Spanish accent, I asked Raul where he was from. He said Fiji. Not the response I expected. I eventually found out that he is of Mexican lineage.

I could tell right away that Raul was a very friendly guy. He enjoyed telling me about the area, like how the clouds always hover over the mountains west of the Bay Area while the part of the Bay Area we'd entered usually stays sunny and nice. He said he wanted to show me Redwood City before taking me to the 101, so there we went.

As we approached Redwood City, Raul informed me he'd be treating me to lunch. He then drove to his favorite torta joint, La Casita Chilanga. La Casita Chilanga is a tiny little place--probably less than 500 square feet--with a counter, a small kitchen, and a small dining area.

I'd never had a torta before, nor did I even know what a torta was. If you don't know, a torta is a sandwich made on a large round piece of bread sliced horizontally through the middle. Raul ordered La Cubana for both of us. I can't tell you for sure what all was on La Cubana, but there was ham, chorizo, breaded beef, tomatoes, avocados, jalopenos, onions, a couple different sauces or dressings, and then probably a few more things. This sandwich was HUGE and it was so exotic (and a little scary) to me, but I ate it without picking things off. (OK, I did end up picking off the onions, but I left everything else there.)

The sandwich was really good. I've always been a very picky eater, but I am eating tons of new foods now. TONS of new foods that I just would not have dared eat a year ago. I'm not saying I like everything new I try, but I did like the torta.

Thanks, Raul.

Raul dropped me off near 101 and Marsh, but I didn't stay long because it just didn't feel like the kind of place where people will stop. I've been wanting to say this for a while: I still have not gotten a ride from a California native. Interestingly, my first three rides in California were all from natives of New York City. Each of those rides originated from on-ramps. My other two rides were from primarily Spanish-speaking men who stopped to ask me if I needed a ride when they saw me walking. I am not including Travis here (the trucker who brought me to California) because that ride began in Iowa.

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