A REAL TIJUANA HANGOVER

Drug Violence Seems to Have Chased Most Tourists From the Former
Party Mecca, Leaving Businesses That Cater to Them High and Dry.

TIJUANA -- Marcos Rojas, a waiter at Mr. Tequila Restaurant, roams
the Plaza Viva Tijuana, eager to pour double shots for partying
tourists. This downtown gateway used to be crowded with Southern
California day-trippers, Midwestern families and busloads of German
and Japanese tourists.

But empty bars and shuttered businesses now outnumber people mingling
near the broken fountain. Rojas, who earns tips by making a show of
slamming tequila shots on the table and pouring them down customers'
throats, says it's been a week since he performed one of his
signature tricks, twirling a tourist on his shoulders.

"Look around, it's dead," he said.

In the sleepy plaza, down the lonely pedestrian promenade leading to
the heart of the tourist district on Avenida Revolucion, bored
waiters and strip club hawkers compete for the trickle of customers,
while old-time merchants wax nostalgic about the days when a downtown
dotted with attractions drew millions of visitors, including the
occasional Hollywood star.

Tijuana's recent wave of violence appears to have driven another nail
into the coffin of a tourism industry already hobbled by its
reputation for tacky tourist traps and rowdy bars and by long waits
at the U.S.-Mexico border crossing.

Visits are down 90% since 2005, when an estimated 4.5 million came to
the area, according to the downtown merchants association. On an
average day now, only about 150 tourists show up, the association
says. Some encounter the latest Tijuana spectacle: convoys full of
heavily armed soldiers rumbling down Avenida Revolucion.

Grant Bourne, a 23-year-old tourist from Australia, took a break from
visiting San Diego's beaches to spend a recent afternoon in Tijuana,
where he marveled at the striking contrasts between the two cities.

The odd sight of soldiers next to the mariachi-filled Plaza Santa
Cecilia enriched his visit in a culture-clash sort of way, he said,
and the military presence certainly made him feel safe. But he
planned to stay downtown, he said, because "I was told not to stray
too far off this street."

The tourism collapse is especially sad, many merchants and tourists
say, because people may not be aware that recent beautification
projects and police crackdowns have left the area safer and spiffier
than it has been in years.

Tree-lined promenades feature repaved sidewalks and roadways. Police
sweeps have cleared out the drug addicts. Gone too are most of the
beggars and hookers. At the balcony bars, club owners have turned
down the ear-splitting volume.

Many stores showcase high-quality products: silver from Taxco,
Talavera pottery from Michoacan, handcrafted stained-glass and
leather products. The Cuban cigars at the business
association-approved stores are authentic, and tourists can get
custom-made furniture and pinatas at the historic arts and crafts market.

"That's what really represents downtown Tijuana," said Andres Mendez
Martinez, coordinator of the merchants association. "Quality products
and traditional goods from all over Mexico."

Still, they acknowledge, that's not what Tijuana is famous for these
days. It's the bloody battles between police and organized crime that
make the headlines.

Since Jan. 1, more than 50 people have been killed across the city,
some in wild shootouts that terrified bystanders. Last month, police
discovered an organized-crime hide-out near downtown that they said
included a training center for hit men complete with a soundproofed
basement shooting range.

Recently, the upscale restaurant Hacienda Cien Anos, which once drew
tourists, was identified by U.S. authorities as a front for money laundering.

Downtown has been flooded with police and has been largely free of
the violence. No bystanders have been killed in the shootouts. A
crackdown on corrupt transit cops has resulted in fewer reports of
extortion, and merchants immediately report officers who stop
tourists without reason, according to police.

Still, the negative image hangs over the city. "In reality, the
violence isn't targeting tourists. It's between drug traffickers,
criminals and police. But the tourist doesn't know the difference,"
said Victor Clark Alfaro, director of Tijuana's Bi-National Center
for Human Rights.

Meanwhile, merchants say even some of those who haven't been scared
off by crime reports may be reluctant to visit because of new,
stricter requirements for Americans reentering the U.S. from Mexico
- -- and fears that the rules will make crossing the border slower.
U.S. citizens used to get by at the border crossings with oral
declarations of citizenship. Now they need to show proof both of
citizenship and identity.

"Americans had 9/11; we had 1/31," said Rojas, the waiter, referring
to the date the new rules went into effect.

Aiming to ease the transition to stricter requirements, Baja
California tourism officials recently announced a new program called
"Get Your Passport" that offers discounts at certain hotels and
restaurants to people with U.S. passports.

In the early days of Tijuana tourism, in the 1920s and 1930s, the
economy grew fast by catering to Americans' appetites for vice, and
the city's tourism fortunes have long risen and fallen with the
changing social mores and economy north of the border.

The fabled Agua Caliente casino and racetrack thrived during
Prohibition and attracted such Hollywood stars as Charlie Chaplin and
Gary Cooper.

In the postwar era, San Diego's growth as a U.S. Navy port provided a
steady stream of thrill-seeking sailors.

Tourist flows peaked in the 1970s, say experts and longtime
merchants, but the end of horse racing and the closure of the jai
alai arena in the early 1990s started a steady decline. Along Avenida
Revolucion, bars and nightclubs offering a warm welcome to underage
drinkers opened to take up the slack.

Only glimmers of the past remain.

At the historic Caesar's Restaurant, which calls itself the
"officially certified" home of the Caesar salad, a picture of Paul
McCartney sipping a margarita hangs over the bar. A bartender,
engrossed in a chess game with the lone customer, dismissed questions
about the ex-Beatle's visit.

Meanwhile, a waiter was busy hanging up a sign on the railing outside
- -- for Caesar's Men's Club. At night, the former banquet hall in the
back of the restaurant becomes a strip club. "Come by later," said a
waiter. "The lap dances are only $20."

Farther down Avenida Revolucion, pushy shoeshine boys and loud
barkers compete for visitors' attention, tossing out such lines as
"Got a Mexican minute, mister?"

Many bars offer all-you-can-drink deals. Locals pack the Caliente
casino, with its 10-cent slots.

Young men urge passersby to saddle up for pictures on the Tijuana
zebras, the donkeys painted white with black stripes that epitomize
Tijuana tackiness.

It was all too much for James Osborne, a 25-year-old visitor from
Iowa. Standing under a "Come Back Soon Amigos" sign, he said his
15-minute visit with a friend was too long.

"We've had enough," Osborne said. "Everybody's trying to hustle you."

Keith and Diane Heuser, hospital administration professionals from
Iowa, had a different experience.

The couple and their friends bought a $180 leather jacket and a
silver necklace, ate chiles rellenos and drank margaritas.

"We're having a great time. It's tacky but entertaining," said Keith
Heuser, while smoking a Cuban cigar on a stroll down lonely Avenida Revolucion.

It used to seem as if Tijuana could attract an endless supply of
tourists like the Heusers.

"We never imagined that tourists would stop coming," said Clark
Alfaro of the Bi-National Center for Human Rights. "It's a shame."