A laborer scopes the desolate San Diego beach on the other side of the border wall ending mere yards away in the Pacific Ocean, where it is low tide just now. The border-patrol van usually lying in wait beyond the bars is strangely absent, and the man presses in for a better look amid murals of deported-from-the-U.S. migrants. If he could have squeezed through the poles, I think he would have. Was he gazing longingly or just merely curious? Where the storied wall abruptly full-stops, locals claim several border-jumpers have died, swept to sea by a powerful current. Purposefully a no man’s land on the American side, Playas de Tijuana offers a bright and breezy boardwalk stroll of restaurants and coffeehouses just steps away. Omitted from guidebooks, where the wall either begins or finally ends (depending on how you see things) and the locals’ relationship to it is arguably one of the border city’s most important sights.
