Okay, where was I . . .
Oh yes, the morning of Day 2. (Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Day 2? How can it just be Day 2? Well, Saturday didn't really count because we ended up in Houston, not Cabo, remember? And it practically took us ALL day to get to Cabo on Sunday, which technically should have been Day 1, had we not had the slight detour. So, I guess that is right . . . Day 2) Once again, we were not in a hurry to get out of our cozy beds. No agendas, no working cell phones (except Samantha's did ring in but she couldn't call out), no laundry or errands to run, no work or routine, no hurry, no worry . . . we were finally settling in to life in Mexico. I believe someone moving very slow at the airport warned us that nothing happens fast in Mexico! We were adapting nicely.
Once the cobwebs were shaken off, coffee was made and enjoyed on our veranda, we decided to venture into town to see the sights. This would be our only, somewhat organized mission, as we still wanted to just lay around in the sun for the most part.
We also decided we would wear our bathing suits because we wanted to venture over to the beach that was protected by a lagoon. It was the only safe place to swim in the ocean. (Okay, we weren't going to be swimming, but a quick dip might be nice. We just wanted to be prepared) I guess I failed to mention that our resort's beachfront was desolate because swimming or entering the water at all, was strictly prohibited. The waves were enormous and the rip tide, lethal. The three of us love the ocean so we had to visit this protected lagoon beach in town.
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| Our beach - 10 + foot waves and undertow |
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| Lagoon next to downtown Cabo |
We were not prepared for all the locals: men, women and even children, trying desperately to sell their wares to any and all warm bodies that looked like tourists. We were probably spotted a mile away. Yep, we wore big floppy hats, cameras, our matching signature flip-flops, bathing suits (with coverups of course), carried an incidentals bag and looked lost . . . like we had just stepped off a tour bus in the Magic Kingdom and couldn't find Cinderella's castle. We were in the moment and in character. (Our movie namesakes would have been so proud!) Just to be clear, we weren't lost, but we probably looked lost. We had our map out, with the list of places we had to check off, and we were hungry and thirsty! After wandering around for a very short period of time, we headed to the first official stop . . . The Office On The Beach . . . known by the locals as The Office. It was a restaurant literally on the beach, steps away from the surf. It consisted of what looked like 100 or so beach umbrellas, all set up so close together that they formed a ceiling. Tables and chairs were positioned under these umbrellas in the sand. We walked right up from the water's edge and were seated a few tables back. There were fans set up to move the air around and make you feel like there was a bit of a breeze. We were handed menus, addressed first in Spanish, then English. Our drink orders were taken (priority #1) and we sat amazed at this exceptional find.
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| The Office On The Beach, Cabo |
First order of business, stave off dehydration with, again, a little HOTD . . . hair of the dog . . . I know, HOTD is what got us dehydrated in the first place but HOTD it was! We rolled the dice and Samantha and I ordered serious Mexican margaritas while Charlotte played it safe and ordered Mexican beer. In the end, that was the best choice because the cocktails were a little too much HOTD for us to take, so we followed Charlotte's wisdom . . . Sorry, I digress . . . our waiter's name was Dr. Hangover, which seemed incredibly appropriate. He wore a lab coat and stethoscope and stayed in character while he served us. He acted more like a stand-up-comedian or singer in Las Vegas, than a waiter. He kept us laughing the entire time and seemed to feed off our accents and demeanor. Lunch was great and while we ate we were serenaded by the in-house mariachi band. Again, everyone seemed to treat us like royalty. By the time we left, we were stuffed and sore from laughing, but ready to shop for touristy trinkets to take back to family and friends and do some more exploring.
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| Dr. Hangover and the Mariachi band |
Where will we go next? Keep following to find out . . . and where has Anne been all this time?
To be continued . . .
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| Don't forget about me! |
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