Between coming and going there’s sometimes a nice vacation.
If you’re lucky.
I suppose between coming and going there could also be a
stop at Home Depot.
But not for Z and me this past loooooooong weekend.
Well, not every
day…that would be just too decadent.
Some days we sipped on Strawberry daiquiris.
Did we miss anything good while we were away?
It was 85 degrees and sunny most of the time.
How was the wdther hdre?
Oooops…sorry for the typos…the glare from my tan makes it a
little hard to see the screen.
Cabo, for those who don’t know—which I didn’t until I was
packing my bags—is an area that includes Cabo San Lucas—where we stayed—located
on the very southern tip of the Baja Peninsula, in Mexico.
So much so that if you step to your left without looking you
could find yourself standing knee deep in the calm Sea of Cortez.
Step to your right and you’re wading into the rough seas of
the nearly South Pacific.
We were fortunate to have been invited to tag along with Z’s
sister K and her husband John for a 6 day 5 night “most expenses” paid
vacation, that John earned through his business dealings, which has something
to do with frozen food.
I’m not sure how it all works, exactly—I think it has
something to do with a meat hook and a walk-in freezer in Chicago—but what I am
sure about is one week ago today I was splashing in the pool and lazing on a
sandy beach, looking out at breathtaking scenery, all thanks to TV dinners and
of course K and John.
I’ll have more to say about our “Cabocentric” adventures in the days ahead, but right now my head’s
still spinning from the traveling, the schizophrenic changes in climate and as
I said, the 600 or so adult beverages, tacos and enchiladas consumed, not to
mention the hip hop bass pounding serenade that has apparently replaced the
traditional Mexican Hat Dance as the pool side musica of choice.
You haven’t lived until you’ve heard “it’s Hard Knock Life”
from Annie done street style.
Not sure it really had anything to do with Mexico other than
the type of “hip-chi-chi” clientele the hotel was hoping to draw to its Jacuzzis. I think they’re trying to cut down on the excess
traffic created around the pool from too many walkers and canes being left
unattended.
The truth is you haven’t lived until you’ve seen an 80 year
old break dance under water.
Or at least what I mistook for break dancing that really
turned out to be an unfortunate incident involving one of the underwater bar
stools, which were in short supply.
What can I say, I was thirsty and can I help it if I’m still
slightly quicker than an 80 year old.
Bygones….
And since Z and I are not the most accomplished of world
travelers, we spend more energy angsting about the getting there that you would
think we were responsible for everything from flying the plane to building the
hotel.
I mean, so what if we forget to pack the ironing board, the
toaster oven and the DVR?
And of course the car service has picked up thousands of
travelers at 6:30 in the morning and doesn’t require a call to the owner at 4
in the morning to remind him…for the most part.
But what could it hurt?
And is it really so wrong to try and find out who the airline pilot is going to be so you can hire a private investigator to follow him the night before to make sure he gets a good night sleep?
Okay, maybe securing his psychological profile was a bit
much, but why take chances?
It’s not like we go on these kinds of trips all the time.
In the end it was worth all the worry and the extensive
planning…especially after we drove the 40 miles back to our house to retrieve
our passports, which may, or may not, have been mistakenly left behind in the
secret lock box, which was purchased for security purposes.
Because as you know…you can’t be too careful….
But we did eventually get up, up and away and on to our
destination.
I’ll have more on that next time.
Right now I need another nap.
Adios, mi Amigos!
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