This is a blog about my fifth trip to Tanzania, scheduled for March 2 through June 1. That's June 1, 2010. I actually stayed on into June, 2011. But I've been back in the U.S. for months, so this is now a blog about other stuff. If you'd like to read about Tanzania, check out the archives for February, 2010 through July, 2011. If you'd like to read about what I'm doing now, dive right in...
So did "K" and I make it to Cabo San Lucas for our Mexican beach vacation? Yes! Yes, we did. And who is this mysterious "K", really? hot rod power tour Tami! "K" is my long time friend, Tami, and now her mother knows she's been to Mexico and come home safe, so no more need for fake initials.
If you have no idea what I'm going on about, you can click here to read about our misadventures in planning this vacation. A series of events (sketchy timeshare sales company, too-short flight layovers in Dallas, break-away seats in American Airlines planes, threatened pilots' strike, monster-from-the-deep oarfish, and Hurricane Paul) conspired hot rod power tour to make us ask the question, "Is this vacation doomed?"
Our travel on American Airlines was smooth. The seats stayed firmly bolted to the floor. We survived the gauntlet of time share salesmen in the San Jose del Cabo airport trying to sell us discounted shuttle rides to the hotel, if only we would attend a sales presentation the next day.
Just one little glitch at Mexican hot rod power tour immigration.... The young agent who checked my passport kept looking back and forth from my passport to his computer screen. Meantime, Tami had breezed through at the next counter and was waiting for me. The agent asked me if it was my first time "here." I told him I'd been in Cabo in 1996. He just kept looking at the computer and at me and at my passport. Tami was still waiting, and looking hot rod power tour a little nervous. hot rod power tour So then I thought maybe "here" was the bigger "here" of all of Mexico. So I told him I'd been in Vera Cruz in 2009. And Oaxaca in 2004. Or maybe it was 2005? And LaPaz, and Puerto Vallarta, and Mexico City. Oh, and I was in Nogales for one day a few weeks ago. Finally, hot rod power tour I asked, "Is something wrong?" He said the computer was calling for a "second review," and walked away with my passport. He returned with a supervisor, who beckoned me into an office away from the line. Tami followed us over. Thanks, Tami! If I got arrested, at least someone would know about it. And she could get right on it after her week at the beach! The supervisor spoke perfect English and was very polite to me. He sat me down next to his desk and looked at the computer and at my passport and at me. He asked me if this was my first time "here." But after only a few minutes, he decided that they were looking for someone else with a similar hot rod power tour name and let me through. Ay yi yi!
We loaded ourselves into one of the 8-passenger taxi vans and settled in for the 45-minute ride. As we approached Cabo San Lucas, an American man sitting behind me started a long cell phone call, in which he and another group of tourists were trying to find each other based on proximity to landmarks such as Costco and Walmart. "No, we already passed Costco. Where are you? No, we already passed Walmart. hot rod power tour No, I don't know where the Holiday hot rod power tour Inn is." Just before we reached the road to our resort, traffic slowed to a crawl. No problem for our driver...
After only a couple of minutes, we saw the resort hot rod power tour ahead of us. The man behind me said into the cell phone, hot rod power tour "Oh, there's a hotel. Heh-heh, I thought we were being kidnaped for a minute there. Heh-heh." Ay yi yi!
We stayed at Pueblo Bonito Blanco in Cabo San Lucas. It's a time share resort, so time share salespeople approached us. But they always let us go easily. My guess is they calculate that two single women will each have half of the money that one married couple has. (Or maybe 38.5%, which is one half of the 77% of men's earnings that women earn back in the U.S.) Whatever hot rod power tour the calculation, it worked in our favor and we did not attend any "presentation" hot rod power tour during our week of vacation.
The salesmen promise a big prize for attending only a 90-minute presentation. From past experience, and talk around the pool, I know that most of the "90-minute presentations" run about 4 hours, hot rod power tour and you have to fight through multiple levels of sales people and their supervisors to get out of the room.
We spent our first day wandering the resort, and the resort next door, which is Pueblo Bonito Rose . It's newer and bigger (but not as charming). Rose and Blanco (and about a dozen other Pueblo Bonitos scattered all around the Cabo region) are sister resorts, so as guests of one, we could hang out in any of them. Some of the resort features that caught our attention...
hot rod power tour Several nights while we were there, the resort staged special dinner events around hot rod power tour the pool, like this Mexican fiesta, complete with folk dances and mariachi music. But every event was priced at $55 per person. Ay-yi-yi!
Luxury does not come cheap at Pueblo Bonito. But the junior executive suite does come with a kitchenette tucked in behind the front door. So we headed to Walmart to stock up on coffee hot rod power tour and oatmeal hot rod power tour and fruit so we could eat cheap for breakfast.
I know what you're thinking. "Walmart? Really?" I know! I always swore I'd never go into a Mexican Walmart. But when we asked Yair, our favorite reception clerk, where we could buy some groceries, hot rod power tour he said Walmart. Tami was ready to go. I wanted to argue first. hot rod power tour I pleaded for a local super mercado. I remembered one from that previous visit back in....1996. hot rod power tour Apparently, it's gone. I asked Yair where the locals shop for groceries. He told me, "Mexicans need low prices, too." Actually, it was an interesting shopping experience. And the store was full of middle class Mexican shoppers.
Lunch and dinner were expensive inside the resort, too, so we made an effort to eat as many meals as possible in town, a 15-minute walk or an eight-dollar taxi ride away. We never did take a taxi--it would have cut into the savings on the meal. But on the third day, as we walked down the hill feeling really tired, a bicycle taxi was waiting for us. Actually, the driver was looping around the intersection hot rod power tour waiting to nab the next tourist that walked hot rod power tour by. It was cheaper than a taxi, after I bartered a bit in my horrible, but serviceable, Spanish. Tami briefly made some objection about feeling guilty about the driver working so hard to pull us into town. I quickly countered with support for small business opportunities in the local economy to make up for shopping in Walmart.
We found several restaurants we liked, and a couple that we returned to multiple times. There was a little place selling fish tacos for $4.00 apiece. Of course by the time we ordered two tacos and a drink and some chips and guacamole, it went higher, but still not as high as Pueblo Bonito!
We ate at the Crazy Lobster, where they have a time share salesman with a desk right inside the door, and a funny bartender roams the tables trying to convince you to down tequila shots. We didn't sign up for a sales presentation, nor did we do any shots. But when Tami looked up to see the waiter standing behind her shoulder, she jumped, then looked away, then looked back, and her eyes got big. After we ordered our food and the waiter left, Tami said, "He looks exactly like my ex-husband when he was 23 and I first met him." Ay-yi-yi! The waiter's name was Alejandro, but after that we referred to him as Young Mexican Bill. We weren't thinking clearly, and we left the Crazy Lobster without asking Alejandro to pose for a photo with Tami.
The owner has placed Spanish Bible verses on the tables and on the waiters' shirts. I wondered if our waiter, Mauro, might preach to us while we ate, but that never happened. The owner, who is from Puebla, stopped by our table on two different nights and chatted with us about his family hot rod power tour and business. They serve incredible food from different regions of Mexico.
We came back a second night, because I had to have more mole, and because Tami had made the mistake of not ordering mole the first time. Which she knew was a mistake because I let her taste a bite of my dinner. hot rod power tour When we pulled up outside the open front of the restaurant in the bicycle hot rod power tour taxi, Mauro was eating dinner with several other staff just inside. When he saw us, he raised his arms into the air and shouted out, " Amigas!"
Although he wasn't working that evening, we sent the other waiter hot rod power tour to ask Mauro to pose for a photo with us. Everybody hot rod power tour else at the staff table erupted into jokes in Spanish and loud laughter. I don't know the Spanish for "cougar," but I think that's what they were saying to him. I should have called out, " Somos las tias!" I think that would have meant we are his aunties. But I didn't think of it at the time. And Mauro was pleased to pose with us.
We came back a third night. I kind of wanted to eat mole again. But there were so many other interesting choices. I had Yucatan-style tamales steamed in banana leaves. Also totally to die for. If you are ever in Cabo, you have to eat La Mesa Poblano.
That night, Mauro waited on us again. Things were slow, so we spent some time chatting with him, with me translating between English and Spanish so Mauro and Tami could talk, too. That limited us to a pretty simple conversation. hot rod power tour Mauro asked if either of us were married. We said divorciados. Then he asked if either of us had children. Neither of us do, and he looked so sad for us! He is 18, and is from Acapulco. He moved to Cabo looking for work, and to escape the drug cartel violence in Acapulco. We looked sad for him. Mauro was one of three young men we spoke with during the week who had moved away from their homes in Acapulco and in the state of Michoacan in order to escape the horrible violence. Two of them had their whole familes with them. Mauro's family was still in Acapulco, but his aunt had accompanied him.
It was also slow across the street at the Crazy Lobster. I could see they had no customers at all. So, as we finished our dinner, I
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