Cabo San Lucas

In 2014 Angie’s sister, her husband Lorne and their mum rented a condo in Cabo. Angie and I decided to spend 3 weeks in Cabo at the same time but in a small boutique hotel in the town.

Cabo is situated at the southern end of the Baja Peninsula with the Pacific Ocean on one side and the Bay of Baja on the other.

Getting there is fairly easy. A direct flight from Toronto to Cabo takes about 5 hours. The natives are friendly and it’s quite safe to walk around, even at night. There are challenges in walking around Cabo that I will get to later in this story.

We arrived around 1pm, collected our luggage from the carousel and then went to “play” customs roulette. Certain ports in Mexico allow you in with just a written declaration, but then there is the roulette. As you exit the customs area you must press a button. Lights flash and you get either a green or red light. Red light means you have to go through customs.

We got a green light and entered this great big hall with chest-high desks situated in a horseshoe around the outer edge of the hall. We asked how we can buy tickets for the hotel shuttle and we were pointed to a desk on our left.

“We would like two tickets for the hotel shuttle, please”, I said to the agent behind the desk. “Si senor”, he replied courteously. “How much is it?”, I continued. “Senor that will be $25”. So far so good. “Muchos gracias”, I responded and started to peel off the money. Then it started. “Ah, but Senor, will you be whale watching? Because for another $30 we can include whale watching. This will save you $30.” “No thank you, the tickets are all we want.” “And for $5 more we can include a breakfast.”, he persisted. “No thank you, two tickets are all we want.”, I continued, more firmly. “But senor, you’ve come all this way, don’t you want to go whale watching and get a free breakfast?” “Look, senor, we’ve been up since 4am and all we want is two tickets”. 

I turned and asked another guy where we can buy two tickets for the shuttle. We were directed to another desk and we went through the same craziness. This is insane. At the 3^rd desk with the same nonsense, I finally gave up, slid down the front of the desk to the floor and curled into a fetal position sobbing, “Please, please, I only want to buy two tickets for the bus. I don’t want a time-share, I don’t want to watch whales, I just want to buy two tickets.” Finally, someone took pity on me and explained that you buy the tickets on the bus.

Did I mention my acting career yet? I had a bit part in Escape from Iran and three plays under my belt. I had also been through the Dale Carnegie Course nine times. That’s the course where you learn “How to Win Friends and Influence People”. So I was more than up for the challenge. However, on the ninth occasion and for a change of pace, I took the course backwards. Ended up learning “How to Lose Friends and Alienate People”. Bugger, who knew?

Meanwhile, back at the hacienda. We finally got to the hotel, got to our room and settled in. Our room was actually a kitchenette suite. We had a view overlooking the pool and the restaurant. Noisy but fun.

However, the noise increased tenfold on Sunday. That’s when we found out the building next door was a church full of “holy rollers” singing at the tops of their voices and playing instruments so loud we couldn’t hear each other talk. Drums and trumpets and tambourines. What a racket.

Oh well, it’s only for three weeks.

Cabo is a very pleasant town with basically five types of stores. A massage parlor, a drug store, a bar/restaurant, a jewellery store, and a clothing store.  And they all repeat as you walk along the street. Each store has a person outside trying to lure you in or a sign with deals and bargoons you don’t want to miss. “Senor, it’s time for a massage”, was a very common statement coming from pretty, young ladies. After a while, I started to say to these ladies, “no thanks, I don’t want a massage, but I do want to buy a time-share. Do you have any?” I would get a blank stare and a quizzical, “Time-share, no senor” and eventually they would stop asking me.

One day, as we were walking along, Angie said that Lorne and I should have a men’s night-out. Go for a massage and then to a bar. I said, “Ange do you know how expensive that will be. It’s only $20 for the massage, but then there’s all the extras that they’ll want me to buy and then when we get home there’s all the expense of me having to find another place to live. I think I’ll take a pass on your offer, but thanks anyway”.

Whadda’ yer think, dear reader? Do you think I did the right thing?

One other funny incident occurred when we were sitting on the beach.

A vendor came along selling something that looked like corn chips. I waved him over and asked to see what he was selling. He showed me what they were. I asked him what they were called in Spanish and he told me. I shook my head and waved a finger indicating that the name was wrong. I looked up what I thought was the correct word in English and showed him the Spanish translation. Prepucios Fritos. His laugh echoed off the mountain behind us and I’m sure he is using that name now.

Prepucios Fritos means “Fried Foreskins”.

Coming back from Cabo, we changed planes in Dallas. Going through security I got patted down by a female security agent and I started giggling. The agent asked what was so funny. I replied, “The same pat-down would have cost me $20 in a massage parlor in Cabo and I just got it here for free”. The crowd around started laughing and the agent smiled and said “get outta here!”