The joys of non-revving (airline employee travel)!
07/01/1997 - 07/05/1997 90 °F
El Arco, Cabo San Lucas' trademark site
We landed in Cabo San Lucas Friday afternoon. My first impression was: "Ye Gads, it's hot!" And more humid than I remembered Baja Mexico being! The only breeze I felt in the terminal was myself whisking through Immigration and customs. The officials were a bit wiser when it came to Allen and Sharon. They inspected their luggage, leaving mine untouched. The face of innocence is unmistakable. That of guilt is equally so.
We caught a cab to our hotel, which was a windy 40 minutes away from the airport. I was encouraged that the countryside didn't look as poor as it did the last time I was there. I hope some of the tourist dollars are reaching the ordinary people. We arrived at the hotel, which seemed to have trouble finding our rooms. As a matter of fact, the room they gave me was occupied! Imagine my (and the senorita's) surprise as I attempted to enter the room!
A trip to Mexico's Cabo San Lucas is hardly complete with plopping down on a strip of sand
The La Finisterra Hotel was gorgeous, though, with nice views of the Pacific's waves crashing down onto the beach directly below us. Our pool area was a blue and straw fantasyland, with swim-up bar. We headed to the Whale Watcher bar for our free "Welcome" margaritas. After a couple rounds of drinks, we decided to set off into town. This proved to be our big party night. Lynda had margaritas in all the cool places -- a killer one at the Giggling Marlin (where Allen cruelly forced me to have a Tequila slammer), and a special, huge "Waborita" at Van Halen's Cabo Wabo bar. I think that was where Lynda (and Sharon), officially became "slammed."
The heat in all but the air-conditioned Cabo Wabo was oppressive. We danced and drank anyway. Allen and Lynda absconded back to the hotel slightly earlier than Sharon and I. Allen, an evil man, made poor Lynda climb "the hill" to our hotel (it is so steep they have a shuttle which runs just from the top to the bottom for guests). Meanwhile, I dragged Sharon off to grab something to eat, we danced a little more, then headed home. Like a paragon of gentlemanly virtue (unlike Allen), I paid for a cab for our journey home.
The next morning we did the obligatory Time Share spiel (not really, but you got $70 credit in food and drink for suffering through it). We listened politely, said No, collected our credit, and proclaimed "Pool Time!" It was great, floating away in the pool, without a care in the world (A cliche? Ah, well -- I'm relaxing! Writing's tough work!). As noon neared, we started in on the drinks. Lunch at our Whale Watcher Bar/Restaurant followed, naps, then back into the town. This time for shopping more than drinks.
Sunday proved to be a disappointment as the sea was too rough for the snorkeling trip we'd planned. So, it was back to the pool. Life was, indeed, rough. Basically, it was a repeat of Saturday.
Looking back at the town of Cabo San Lucas from our boat trip to the arch
On the day we left, we took a morning boat trip to the arches of Land's End. The sea was less rough that day. However, "rough seas" are a relative term. When we neared El Arco, where the calmer Sea of Cortes meets the Pacific Ocean, there were some pretty massive swells for our tiny glass-bottomed boat. Normally packed Lover's Beach was deserted (too choppy to land) and the sea-lion colony was hiding out elsewhere. Still, the scenery is really neat around there and we got some decent pictures.