Don't think you can miss the place. Indescribably tacky billboards announce its approach for over 60 miles in either direction (picture a giant 3-D wiener with the phrase "You never sausage a place" and you will get the idea), and the skyline is indelibly blighted by the Sombrero Tower, dubbed by some as the "Eiffel Tower of the South".
"Pedro", the mascot of "S. O. B.", would have you believe you have arrived in little Mexico (Tijuana comes to mind, sort of, in a very bizarre Dixie kind of way). In fact, it's a wonderland of fun if you like pseudo-Mexican kitsch, terrible puns, carnival rides at Pedroland, giant fiberglass animals and shop after shop of cheap molded plastic garbage masquerading as toys, clothing and dinnerware. Let's just say that we wondered quietly why human rights groups haven't lobbied to shut the place down, and we weren't terrifically surprised that we didn't see a single person that looked remotely Mexican for miles in any direction. Perhaps they prefer not to shop at "El Drug Store".
Still, we were looking to stretch our legs, use the restroom and get a bite to eat, and South of the Border turned out to be a great place for the former, an adequate place for the second, and a regrettable place for the latter, despite our decidedly low standards at that point in our journey.
This most interesting locale proved to be a rather accurate caricature of what many Americans think of when they think border-town Mexico. That is a fact I find mildly embarrassing, having spent about 3 months of my life in Mexico over the years. To quote a caricature of American culture, "Aye Caramba!" Rather than attempting further description, I think I will let my camera do the t
alking.
