with the purchase of a very unusual off-road vehicle — at least by Quebec standards. No oversized Winnebago or heavy truck camper. Just the simple idea of being able to drive anywhere without worrying about getting stuck, and having a vehicle capable of pulling itself out of a sandpit without a headache. Most importantly, we wanted something reliable and rust-free. None other than the legendary 1999 Toyota Land Cruiser Series 70, imported directly from Japan.
My boyfriend, Karl, and I (Erika) have been living in Gaspésie for the past few years. As passionate snowboarders, we've spent countless days riding with huge smiles on our faces, but if we're being honest, the last few winters have left us wanting more. Mother Nature has been playing tricks on us! So, for winter 2026, we decided to trade powder snow and salty ocean air for tacos, sunshine, and waves.
A $60 sheet of plywood (Select plywood, of course) and a complete suspension rebuild ($4,000) later, we're READY TO GO!
Our goal for the winter: learn how to surf down south (you know... in a bikini)! Since I was already a big fan of SUP surfing and used to riding in the freezing waters of the Gaspé Peninsula with a wetsuit, I wanted to challenge myself by stepping out of my comfort zone and bringing only a surfboard — no SUP this time. So we hit the road with TAIGA BOARD's Malibu 7'2" Surfboard and the Classic Longboard 8'4", and headed south.
The plan was simple: reach mainland Mexico by crossing Baja California as quickly as possible. But you know how it goes, travel plans rarely stay the same.
We hit the road on January 8, 2026. We've always liked the number 8; we like to think it brings good luck. With temperatures sitting at -25°C back home in Quebec and gear that's much better suited for cool Baja nights than a North American winter, we wanted to spend as little time as possible in the United States—mostly because everything is so expensive.
First stop: Florida. From there, we crossed the country from east to west before making our way to the Mexican border in Southern California. We quickly learned the hard way that January isn't always warm in the southern United States. Nights dropped to -4°C while sleeping in our rooftop tent. As much as we love winter, it's a lot less enjoyable when you're not properly equipped!
Along the way, we stopped at Big Bend National Park in Texas and White Sands National Park in New Mexico, two incredible places that are absolutely worth the detour. Endless desert landscapes, tiny cacti stretching as far as the eye can see, and dry, rugged terrain… Put on a Spaghetti Western playlist while you're driving, and you'll feel like you've stepped straight into a Clint Eastwood movie.
We finally arrived in Baja two weeks later. Up north, the nights were still pretty chilly, but compared to the -25°C back in Montreal, the choice was an easy one!
Next stop: the famous Seven Sisters, traveling from north to south. But first, we had to stock up both on food and diesel. As we reached the last village before what would become the longest off-road section of our entire trip (170 km of rocks, brutal washboard roads, steep angles, dust, potholes, deep ruts, and cacti...), we realized there wasn't a gas station after all.
After a bit of searching and a lot of luck, we managed to find a couple of jerry cans of diesel. A local siphoned the fuel straight into our truck, with a mouthful of diesel and the biggest smile on his face!
We shared this stretch of the journey with two other vehicles: Thom, driving his Toyota Hilux Surf, and a Swiss-German couple embarking on the BIG adventure all the way to Tierra del Fuego in their classic Defender.
3 to 4 days later, we finally reached the beginning of the Seven Sisters, but the swell wasn't expected to arrive until the following day. The area was packed with Californians, all kinds of camper setups, and everyone was eagerly waiting for the waves to show up. Let's just say the past few weeks hadn't been very rewarding. And us? We couldn't wait to get in the water either! When morning finally came, the conditions weren't exactly ideal for learning, but they were absolutely breathtaking to watch.
We eventually settled down for a few days (finally!) in the village of Santa Rosalillita, where we found ourselves completely alone on a beach with perfect point break waves. These well-deserved rest days gave us the chance to learn how to surf, catch up on some reading, and finally soak up the sun.
It's almost impossible to describe the feeling of being so far away on this remote desert peninsula. This tiny village offers two surf breaks, including one at the southern end and one at the northern end. A 4x4 is highly recommended... and so is a wetsuit! And don't forget to stop by El Cactus Café!
Next stop on the map: El Conejo, in Baja Sur. A friend had highly recommended this wave to us, saying it was still one he dreamed about. He wasn't wrong, it was an absolutely beautiful place. Unfortunately, there were still plenty of surfers waiting for the swell to arrive, and the wind wasn't on our side.
After a few sessions in the water, we eventually looked at each other and said, "Well... the warmth of mainland Mexico is calling!"
Just before leaving, while Karl was chopping wood with his brand-new knives, the blade slipped and he cut his hand pretty deeply. Thankfully, no stitches were needed, but surfing was off the table for at least two weeks while it healed.
So we made the most of it by driving to La Paz, enjoying a REAL American-style coffee, and stuffing ourselves with tacos from a stand along the Malecón, complete with an incredible hot sauce bar, just as the famous La Paz Carnival was getting underway.
From there, we boarded the cargo ferry to Mazatlán, where we ended up parked in what felt like the last two square feet of deck space. With no fresh air, we spent the night breathing in diesel fumes from the truckers who left their engines running the entire trip. A healthy dose of lung cancer... definitely a change from the salty ocean air!
As soon as we set foot in mainland Mexico, everything changed. We went from the dry desert landscapes of Baja to a humid tropical climate, lush forests, and endless agricultural fields. It was nothing like what we had just experienced. Colorful cities, dusty villages, and real poverty—we finally got to experience THE Mexico we had been looking for, especially since we chose to stick to the free roads instead of the toll highways. That's where you really get to see the country.
Being the ocean lovers that we are, we quickly started searching for places to camp along the Pacific coast. One evening, we stumbled upon a point with Playa Tortugas on one side, a crocodile-filled marsh on the other, and towering palm trees all around. We looked at each other and thought, "Let's go"! Driving along the beach at sunset, we suddenly found ourselves in a completely different world: Willy Wonka-style beachfront villas built for millionaires looking to escape for a week each year. At least, we figured we were in a pretty safe place to spend the night!
We continued heading south and spent another night on the beach beside an old abandoned resort that had completely fallen apart. Imagine the contrast... a paradise beach, restaurants right on the sand... but NOT A SINGLE SOUL in sight. We went to bed with a tiny fear that we might not wake up the next morning... haha!
Next stop: La Ticla, a small village in the state of Michoacán. Located on Indigenous land, this place remains largely untouched by development, which is exactly what makes it so special: a warm, welcoming vibe, a simple beachfront campground just steps from the waves, and authentic local restaurants where you can share quesadillas, tacos, and unforgettable sunsets. This is where our journey finally slows down—we've found our spot.
The routine we'd been dreaming about is finally within reach: surf in the morning, coffee, an afternoon nap in the hammock, and another surf session before sunset...
But, of course, life wasn't quite done with Erika yet. All I wanted was to finally jump in the water wearing nothing but a bikini. A small infection had started a few days earlier, and by the time we reached La Ticla, my body had completely given up on me. I ended up taking antibiotics to fight the infection, only to be knocked down by an unknown virus for another seven days. My tan definitely fell behind schedule... and so did my surfing skills!
Back on my feet instead of lying flat in bed, we finally began the long learning curve of what is probably one of the hardest sports to master. For ten days, we learned how to read the waves, understand the local wind patterns, and listened carefully as our amazing friends coached us along the way. We caught a few waves, had plenty of fun, and yes... shed a few tears too.
Between tropical paletas, homemade coconut yogurt, tamales, stretching sessions, endless tropical fruit, and afternoon hammock naps because the heat turns you into a complete couch potato, we formed genuine friendships with people chasing the very same dream. It was all about getting back to the simple things, soaking in the energy of the ocean, and letting go of a million unnecessary thoughts.
In the end, this entire adventure was really about ten unforgettable days of surfing... before our bank account gently reminded us it was time to head home.
This is definitely not the kind of trip you should approach with expectations, it's one you should embrace with an open mind. The smells, the flavours, the discomforts, the exhaustion of life on the road, and all the realities of van life and a setup like ours constantly reminded us just how much we missed the fresh air of Gaspésie. In the end, it's a whole lot easier to throw on a wetsuit and head down to the beach back home!
All jokes aside, Mexico is an incredible country with so much to discover, but we simply didn't have the time or the opportunity to experience it to its fullest. We're beyond grateful to have surfed the Pacific, and now it's time to point our compass toward the Atlantic.
