I know…enough with the travelogue…enough with our little
trip to Cabo.
After a couple of posts, it begins to feel like sitting in your neighbor’s rumpus room for 3 hours oohing and awwwing over his 1,500 slides of the Eisenhower locks.
So I’m gonna wrap it
all up today…I promise.
Sort of….
Besides there's some sort of a major snow storm approaching
that may or may not dump as much as 1,000 feet of snow on the Northeast, so I’m
gonna start shoveling as soon as I finish up...even before it starts
And I’m sure none of you are in the mood to hear about how incredible it is to bask in the warm glow of summer sun, while you’re back here freezing.
So I won’t mention it…I promise…again.
Sort of….
Last summer I
wrote that every vacation develops a rhythm of its own choosing. The sooner you
discover that rhythm and step in time to its particular beat, the
sooner you’re able to let yourself go wherever the music wants to take you.
Well, for wary,
greenhorn international travelers like Z and me, on the first day of this vacation
we danced to a very slow, dirge like beat, characterized more by a waltz that a
ch-cha.
Once we settled
in our room and slipped into our shorts and T’s, we met up with K and John by
the pool bar and immediately proceeded to confuse the entire staff with our
instructions as to what we needed charged to our credit cards and what went to our
rooms.
But it was
necessary…and it served us well…I think.
And since Cabo
is a resort town, everyone took it in stride. In fact, for the rest of the week
the staff referred to us as “Turistas locos gringos”, which I think translates loosely to “Cool Guys”.
So that was nice.
After catching up over a couple of Margaritas and a heaping
plate of Nachos Grande, we decided to pick up the tempo of this vacation
salsa and bravely headed out for a stroll around the Marina, which harbored some interesting characters, along with a few
yachts, slightly larger than our hotel.
This little “pleasure vessel”, in particular, which was available for a week’s charter at the low, low price of 750,000 Euros or 1,016,025 US Dollars, boasted its own helicopter pad and, of course, helicopter.
Unfortunately our stay consisted of only 6
days and 5 nights, so we had to take a pass.
Not that we didn’t have plenty of opportunity
to sail the deep blue seas, as our walk along the promenade elicited at least
several dozen invitations to go fishing from a bunch of nice folks eager to
help out a group of eager new arrivals.
It was almost as convenient as shopping on Amazon…and everything, we were told, was a really great deal!
As the week progressed, so did the rhythm
with every sunrise over the prominent mountain in view of our balcony. In view of just about everywhere we went,
actually.
It also helped that our particular Mexican Conga was aided by the friendly wait staff that serviced the pool, and somehow knew
exactly when it was time to haul out the Piña Coladas and Strawberry Daiquiris.
We were 2 hours behind US Eastern time so we
felt absolutely no guilt over starting by 11 AM…or even 10.
After all, it was noon somewhere.
Of course we also
ventured out to the beach most afternoons, as well, which was about a 20 minute
walk around the harbor. Oddly enough, “beaching it” did not seem to be a prime
Cabo activity, I guess because in January, the water is only 75 degrees and
considered “muy frio” by the locals.
Of course it
was far from “frio” for this
caballero and I wasn’t coming all the way to Mexico without splashing around in
the Pacific for a while…with or without the threat of water taxis potentially
introducing me to the bow of their little boats.
Apparently in
Cabo, waving your hand over your head, in any manner, whether on land or sea
indicates that you are in need of a cab.
It’s not that I
minded almost becoming a figurehead for the Gaucho II, but I found it
unnecessary for Z to tip the guy on top of it.
But I have to
admit, taking the water taxis is a good way to get around to the various
beaches and points of interest in Cabo…as long as you’re actually sitting in
the boat.
They’ll even
drop you off at a remote beach for a couple of hours of fun in the sun, and
come back to pick you up…eventually.
Of course, you
have to take into consideration that this kind of aquatic transportation
requires you to get your feet wet—literally—in order to get in and out of the
boat, once you reach your destination…that is, when you can actually catch up
to the boat, which is rising and falling with the ocean swell, even just a foot or
two from the shore line.
Of course being
an industrious group, we didn’t have too much trouble in that department as Z
knocked me to my knees and volunteered my back as a stepping stool for the
rest.
Not that I
minded, but I thought they could have told the water cabbie that I was supposed
to get on the boat too.
But not to
worry, I somehow channeled my old 25 year old self, ran through the waves and
managed to propel myself up and over, twist around and plop firmly onto the
bow…much to the relief of my fellow Cabo Cruisers.
Well, I assume
it was relief, since they had their backs to me, taking in the last of the
sights.
Throw in all the nightly dinners under the stars, complete with a moon rise over the dark ocean
horizon and you pretty much have the gist of our Cavorting in Cabo.
Before we knew
it, a few days later, the car service was dropping us off at our frigid front door around Midnight,
and our summer in January was officially a memory.
A distant
memory, even now, but something to keep us warm the rest of this winter season.
Which reminds
me, I better go get the snow shovel out.
I think I see a few flakes….
take the same picture tomorrow morning, brian!
ReplyDeleteI'm being optimistic....
Deletewe are gathering some food and beer... essentials.
DeleteOh, such a pleasure to read all about your stay in Cabo. Thanks for that treat. Now I am listening to the town plow pushing snow into my driveway. I was out there earlier and complained about that practice, only to be told that there is nowhere else to put it. (Why not someone else's driveway?) I didn't say that as it might be thought of as very un-PC. But - I'm the only shoveler who lives here.
ReplyDeleteMaybe charge them a storage fee. Stay warm and hire a kid to shovel! I'd do it myself but you know, I live much too far a way. Otherwise....
DeleteWell thanks. I guess. Kids can't be hired; they are all inside their houses playing video games. I shoveled a place for Angel just outside the porch door, but he wouldn't do anything. He waits for me to take him for a walk. Unfortunately, the snow is over my boots, and totally, really, really over Angel.
ReplyDeleteGreat photos! It looks like you really enjoyed your trip. There's a ton of other great options when it comes to lodging Cabo San Lucas style!
ReplyDelete