meanwhile, back at room 2053 . . .

So, where has Anne been these last few days? Well, we didn't want her to be too worried about all the earlier delays. She got a kick out of the Houston hotel and the eventual arrival at the resort. (I think she felt kind of sorry for Carrie, the travel agent) She pretty much stayed to herself while we got settled in and decided not to go investigate the sky infinity pool with us, which as you already know was a great decision. She did enjoy our room service that first night, but has a 2 (or 3 when no one's counting) glass of wine a night limit, so she turned in early. She enjoyed our tales about the resort security guard and laughed while we chose hair-of-the-dog the next morning. She doesn't really care for the sun much, so she curled up with a good book while we lounged poolside that first day. All in all, I think she was content being the anchor, back at the ranch. She changed her mind at the last minute about joining us at Sunset Da Mona Lisa, (a decision I think she still regrets) to stay home and take it easy. We kept a place set for her and later tried to convey how windy it was, so it truly might have been rather dangerous for her to be there. Anne was our constant reminder of what we were really doing . . . spending precious time with each other. The fact that we were in paradise was just icing on the cake!

Too Anne! Cheers!

When you come right down to it, Anne, the honorary member of Group Therapy, was a focal point of everything we did. She was with us virtually or in spirit, and was always an inspiration. She was kind of tired when we decided to go in to town . . . not feeling like being a tourist or Miranda. But we set a place for anyway at The Office, just like normal, and we had tons to tell her about when we arrived safely back to room 2053. Look for Anne to get out a little more the second half of our trip.

To be continued . . . 

much better!

Don't get me wrong, I love technology, but this is much better. Mobile posting saved for emergencies.


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.

Our beach - 10 + foot waves and undertow 

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. 

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.

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 . . .

Don't forget about me!

mobile group therapy

Trying out a new App on my iPhone . . . Will allow me to post without the laptop. Sorry for my negligence these last few days! Very busy week in real-life. Consider this a test BLOG. I'll continue our saga a little later today . . . Thanks for keeping up with Group Therapy.




Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone - Group Therapy!

Sunset Da Mona Lisa . . .

We were here . . . 

Take a look at this fabulous venue published on YouTube . . .

Here was our point of view . . .

On our way to the BIG Birthday celebration!

THE VIEWS

Cosmo in Cabo

A little windy but Best table in the house! (or outside the house)

Creme Brûlée, Sunset Da Mona Lisa, del Cabo

Hate to leave . . .

At the end of the day, our first full day in paradise, we had a wonderful birthday celebration for Samantha and the three of us, enjoyed ALL that this fabulous restaurant had to offer, were treated like royalty by being seated at the best table available and made it back to our veranda safely, for what would become our nightly ritual . . . a dip in our very own hot tub . . . NO PICTURES ALLOWED!

To be continued . . .

hair of the dog

Did you know that if you google (it actually pains me to use that as a verb) the phrase "hair of the dog" you will discover there is an American celtic folk/rock band and a brewing company, both named Hair of the Dog? In case you are interested, follow these links, but PLEASE COME BACK!

Band: http://www.hair-of-the-dog.com/      

Brewing company: http://www.hairofthedog.com/

Now, when I googled "hair of the dog" I was looking for an illustration of the old hangover cure. What I found confirmed what I already knew; a lot of hangover remedies have been tried but there's not much evidence they help.


Back to our story


We were in NO rush to rise the following morning. There were two queen sizes 

beds, so each night, I would take turns sleeping with either Samantha or Charlotte. I can't remember why I was the token rover, but I was. 

If you have never woken up after a night of one too many cocktails, lucky you! I don't recommend it! Let's just say, as we tried to come to life, we decided that investigating the theory, "hair of the dog" was well worth the effort. Oh sure, we had each experimented with this theory with various levels of success in the past.  We weren't in that much pain, but if you have ever woken up feeling good after a night of one too many cocktails, you are either still drunk and the worse is yet to come or you need to call the Betty Ford Center immediately. (I don't have that number . . . sorry)
I think it is safe and accurate to say that we, Group Therapy, were somewhere in between feeling good and knowing that it was probably going to get worse. Hair of the dog was born out of that survival instinct that kicks in when you want to prevent something bad or threatening. We only had 4 more days of paradise left and not a moment could be wasted. So what did we do? We started early! But we paced ourselves, ate plenty, drank lots of water, and managed to keep the dreaded hangover at bay. We also needed to face our shame from the night before and experience to "sky infinity pool" during the daylight hours. Samantha packed our little pink cooler, we slathered on plenty of sunscreen, grabbed some snacks and hiked back up the hill to the top of the world.


We hadn't even made it up the first hill when we had to stop and rest. Not only had the alcohol from the night before made us bullet-proof,  it had also given us stamina that we were sorely lacking this morning. OMG was uttered more than once as we scaled what felt like a mountain. By the time we made it to the OPEN gate, we were exhausted! We barely found three chase lounges together. (not the ones from the night before because they were taken . . . as were all of the good lounges . . . apparently most of the other guests visiting the sky infinity pool had behaved themselves last night and had ventured out in time to secure the choice chases) Our leftover spot was on the upper deck around the baby pool. No worries; we stretched out on our matching, monogramed (of course!) beach towels and bravely started sipping on a Modelo Light. Sadly, they tasted pretty darn good. 


It didn't take long for one of the cabana boys, serving drinks from the cool swim-up-bar, to notice our little pink cooler. You guessed it, not at the resort 24 hours and we have already broken another rule. He kindly pointed out the NO COOLER ALLOWED sign that was clearly displayed, in english, at the pool deck entrance. Stike two . . .


Did breaking yet another rule slow us down? Nope! We stashed the cooler under one of our chairs, apologized profusely, and ordered the biggest, fruitiest, bluest tropical drink on the menu. He seemed satisfied and scurried off to retrieve our order. We were trying to be mindful of just how much fun we could have during the day today because we had reservations at what we believed was a fabulous restaurant that night, in honor of Samantha's birthday. So we sat back, relaxed and waited for the cabana boy to return.

To be continued . . .