Winding Down Our Pescadero Days

 About the time we went to La Paz, Bruce noticed the most preferred flights out of Cabo to home were disappearing quickly, so we booked our homeward flight for March 10.  Although our remaining days in Pescadero are numbered (we leave here on Thursday), we look forward to 4 days in El Sargento visiting friends Cindy and Vince before making our way back to Hotel Aereopuerto in San Jose del Cabo.  We won't see Pescadero again until our next (fingers crossed) trip to Baja.

As I look forward to our return to family, friends and good coffee, I try to pay special attention to what I'll miss down here, like having the Pacific Ocean in our backyard.

The wonderful weather, the music of spoken Spanish and the morning birdsong are the big obvious things, but it's often the little everyday things I miss.  So I'm trying not to take them for granted.  Things like taking my morning coffee on the porch, and watching the fountain to see which birds stop by:

Our outdoor reading/living room:

Listening to the wind chimes which seem tuned to play "I don't need no diamond ring...."

 

The easy presence of little green limes just the right size for the squeezer and offering just the right tang to our drinks:

Sunsets on the ocean:

Sharing laughs with friends on the "sunset bench:"

Let's face it; I'll just miss our simple barefoot, toes-in-the-sand lifestyle down here.

Thursday we head to El Sargento for more adventures and friends. To read about our first trip there via public transportation read Journey to El Sargento from March 2014.  We're very happy to have a ride from La Paz this year!  To see what kind of adventures Cindy and Vince found for us those first years read Lively Fishing on the Sea of Cortez and Camping on the Beach also from March 2014.

Love Carnaval en La Paz!

Well heck, I just love La Paz.  I never want to spend all our time down here in the city, but I do like to visit the colorful capitol of Baja California Sur.  This year we only stayed a couple of days, but those two days were rich with Carnaval. Our arrival date coincided with the first parade day.  This year they would have three days of parade during the week-long celebration.

I love walking out of the bus station and into the beauty of the Malecon and the Sea Of Cortez.  The Malecon is a three mile stretch of wide sidewalk along the shore anchored by a marina at each end. This year our hotel is near the marina on the east end.  The bus station sits about in the middle.  We'd taken the early bus from Pescadero and so had the major part of the day to sample the Malecon before checking onto our hotel. 

View from the tourist wharf off the Malecon

Our first order of business upon arrival was to find a sunny patio near the Malecon where we could get a meal.  After weeks of our repetitive menu in Pescadero, we were looking forward to restaurant meals.  The place we settled upon even had expresso and I slurped my pretty coffee down before Bruce could snap a photo.

At that early hour, the Malecon was already crowded with booths that would open for the evening's festivities.

Tecate beer sells for $2.22 USD

Our next stop was the car rental place.  Bruce wanted to double check the prices he found on the internet, and maybe they'd give him a better deal in person.  While we found no better deals, but we did find two car rental agents who spoke less English than I did Spanish, so we had some fun chatting with them and getting some vocab lessons.  We asked them about the parade, explaining that it is hard to get information about dates and times of Carnaval in the US.  We wondered which direction the parade would go tonight? Which side of the street would offer better viewing?  What time would it start?  That last question brought side glances and giggles as they  named several times, all between 5pm and 7pm.  They answered our confused looks explaining that in Mexico, things don't really happen on time.  (Reminded me of my trips to Montana Indian Reservations with the Livingston schools where we learned about "Indian time.").  We decided to be back on the Malecon by 5pm and see what happened from there.

We'd come quite a ways west from the bus station and decided to head back east toward our hotel.  We were surprised to find five stages set up on the Malecon!  On our last time to Carnaval, there were three.  Throughout the night there would be bands at each stage in addition to the hawkers selling their wares along the street.  The booths mostly sold food and drinks, but there were carnival rides concentrated along one part and then there was The Blanket Man.  Once Carnaval started, he stood high on his own flatbed trailer with mountains of folded blankets surrounding him, and huge blankets hanging from above, giving him a colorful backdrop.  His loud microphone amplified a nonstop sales pitch.  His many helpers folded and unfolded blankets, creating custom piles which the blanket salesmen would then auction off.  He was a show unto himself and commanded a large audience, but at this hour, we couldn't even decide which booth was his!  Most booths, unlike the Tecate booth, still had their sales "windows" closed tightly with plain tarps.

We got lucky as we passed the main stage.  A large band had taken the stage and was playing and singing.  We decided it must have been a pre-performance sound check, as the singers and band members were in street clothes, not in performers' attire. We did enjoy a sample of their music.

If you can zoom in just right of center on the above photo you'll see some traditional instruments. With their music in my ears we began our long walk to our hotel.  I was excited about the Mexican culture we'd already sampled.  I imagined that I could soak up the culture these two days much like the sand at Pescadero soaks up the seawater delivered by the big waves and my joy would burble forth like the miniature geysers made by the sand crabs at high tide.

We made it to the hotel by check-in time, but having seen the ice machine, we were puzzled to find no ice bucket.  Lacking that bit of vocabulary, I used the words I had and asked for a box or a bag for ice.  It took a minute for the desk clerk to understand what I needed, but he soon returned with a smile and an ice bucket and the vocab lessons ran both ways.  He put the bucket in my hands saying, "En ingles es boo-get?" (In English it is boo-get?). Yes, yes!  But what is it in Spanish?  He laughed explaining they don't have a word for it.  It is "algo para hielo" which literally translates to "something for ice." We both got a kick out of that.

We decided to try for an Uber back to downtown for the parade and went to a shady place with chairs and tables just outside the front door.  It looked like a public spot occupied by a younger couple.  She was standing behind a seated man, playing with his hair.  I tried to make a little joke rather than surprise them and said, "Oh, is this a barbershop?". They laughed and began a conversation.  The couple resides in La Paz, he is a surgeon and she teaches at university level training future elementary school teachers.  They were waiting for friends staying in the hotel (one was an ER doc he'd met in med school) and all would ride together to the parade.  They said Uber was no longer a dependable ride service in La Paz, not enough drivers.  About then our driver cancelled our ride.  I guess they felt sorry for us, told us the name of a better ride service to use in La Paz and offered to take us in the back of their pickup.  We gladly clamored aboard, figuring we were in good hands with a surgeon and an ER doc in the cab!  They let us out close to the parade route while they drove off to find parking.

The excitement on the Malecon reminded me of Livingston on 2nd of July as people hustle to their favored viewing spot.  We stopped when we found a place with a bit of shade and some cement stumps just big enough to comfortably sit.  The street, blocked off hours ago for the parade hummed with activity.  Street vendors and pedestrians roamed freely.

Although it was well after 5pm when we arrived, we had plenty of time waiting for the parade to begin.  I'd been thinking all day of the delicious roasted corn I'd eaten several years ago from a street vendor.  Served on a stick it came seasoned with all kinds of things: mayonnaise, dried cheeses, chili powder (definitely not on the heart-healthy diet).  This year I was disappointed to see it served only in a cup, but I went ahead and "sinned" and found it just as delicious.

Ricardo serves up elote (corn) in a cup.

Ricardo did a brisk business, so I wasn't the only one who found the corn combo irresistible.

Finally, something happened: police cars and policeman on foot slowly moved down the street ushering people out of the road.  Just as I was thinking how the crowd would surge back out as soon as the police went by, here came another group of policeman followed by the parade:

The parade begins

Bruce noted the time....6:30.  This parade puts all parades to shame and is simply indescribable.  I'll just include our favorites.

Like many things, this one baffled me.  The banner translates as "prevention is the true change.". I thought maybe it was something from the local dentists, but then I noticed the people walking alongside the float were handing out strips of foiled wrapped condoms.  I am still baffled.

Must be every student from the music school on board!

And the parade continued on in an amazing array of lights, beautiful costumes and lots of music.

The vacuum left at parade's end quickly filled with the spectators turned Carnaval participants.  The fun fair was in full swing with rides lit up; people crowded around every food or alcohol booth.  We joined the crowd watching a band at the first stage.  I was happy when those neighboring me could understand what I said and I could understand their answers!  On we went to The Blanket Man now holding court.  The street was so crowded and entertaining, I didn't even think about taking photos.  Such much was happening all around us!

When hunger got the better of us, Bruce opted for a hot dog (really??), but I wasn't sure about eating a taco al pastor offered at the food booths.

Yes, that's thinly sliced pork "grilling" on a rotating spit.  The man in the photo is shaving off the pieces he figures are cooked enough to serve.  Judging from the crowd around the taco booth, this was a popular item at Carnaval.  We walked a little further through the crowd and found a place offering chicken tacos and a place to sit.  I was happy to sit with that dinner while I waited for my phone to download Didi, the new ride app our new friends had told us about.

Turns out, the downloading and subsequent setup took longer than desired, so we decided to now walk toward our hotel while enjoying the Eastern edge of Carnaval.  Soon enough we arrived at the drive to our hotel.  As luck would have it, we arrived just as our doctor friend was heading home.  He stopped while his girlfriend rolled down the window.  They both laughed and they told us they had to park so far away from Carnaval, they had to "Didi" back to their truck!

I had promised Bruce we'd eat a fancy restaurant dinner in La Paz after he agreed to eating "street food" at Carnaval.  So the next night, he picked out a restaurant close to our hotel with an outdoor patio on the marina, and fancy it was! We timed our meal to coincide with sunset and started with shrimp cocktail:

There were well over a dozen shrimp as big as the one on my spoon in a very delicious sauce!  After we ate all the shrimp, I hated to let the sauce go.  I mused aloud to the waitress about if I had a shot of tequila to put in it, I'd drink the sauce.  "You want one?" she asked.  Oh! Twist my arm!

For the main entree, Bruce was happy to see his favorite pasta on the menu and ordered spaghetti.  I went out on a limb and ordered some kind of fish.  All I knew was that it was cooked with garlic and served on a bed of fresh greens.  Sounded perfectly doable.  But when it came, I had to ask the waitress how I should eat it:

The "before" shot

I gotta admit, I was a bit intimidated.  That tilt of my head is apparently an involuntary trait inherited from my dad when I don't understand the situation in front of me.  The kind, tequila temptress, aka waitress, explained the procedure and I'm here to tell you it was the most delicious fish I've ever eaten!  The Mexicans would say, "Muy rico!". I say succulent and moist, lightly infused with the taste of garlic.  A squeeze from the accompanying roasted lemon dressed the greens perfectly.

The "after" shot

I felt like made a pretty good "dent" in my meal.  Bruce nearly licked his plate clean (but declined my offer to share my fish).  All-in-all we had a very successful Carnaval and side trip to La Paz.  The next morning, we did indeed use the Didi app to get a ride back to the bus station and on the ride home savored our memories (while watching a Harry Potter movie in Spanish!).

Just as an end note, I am posting this two days after the killing of El Mencho on the mainland, a week after our La Paz trip. Many of you have kindly expressed concern over our safety with news of the cartel violence on the mainland.  I want you all to know that we neither feel nor see any effects from the killing of El Mencho on Sunday.  We are all safe here on the southern end of Baja and life goes on as normal.  It sounds like things settled down rapidly on the mainland, so life in the most affected areas is returning to normal.

Some Things Change, Others Endure

 A few days back I got disgusted with myself for continuously focusing on how things have changed.  Then I reminded myself of why we continue to return and it's easy to see that many of the things we love about the Baja are still here.

My view from the beach is what gets me started, so I snapped a photo and marked it up to illustrate the changes.  The thing is, the real  changes are not all visible but are things I notice in the changing vibe.  

View from the beach

The new buildings remind me of old gathering spots, replaced by rennovations , form and function.  Much of the building placement on each lot is the same, but the form and function is different.  The red arrow on the right in the above photo points to the now "uninhabitable" 5th wheeler parked on the beach end of our lot.  If you can zoom in on the photo, you might be able to pick out the roofline of our place marked by the orange arrow.  Since the 5th wheeler is empty, we have the place to ourselves, which is just fine.

The yellow circle marks the property next door to us which once held "The Surf Hotel," an odd collection of three cinder block buildings.  One, closest to the 5th wheeler was a self-sufficient little casita closest to the sea. Back toward the road was the main building consisting of a number of little rooms, some with stove and fridge, some with just bed and chair.  Upstairs was a bigger unit where the owner, and later, a manager stayed.  In front of the main building was a smaller one with a couple of apartments.  The lodging was basic and cheap.  Where there is now palapa-covered private pool, there used to be a concrete deck which functioned as a communal gathering area.  It was a favorite amongst visiting surfers and vagabonds alike. We stayed there twice and each time gained new friends and acquaintances, all bonded by the common discovery of life on the Baja. Hurricane Odile of 2014 all but flattened the place.  You can read about the hurricane damage to the Surf Hotel in a post from Feb 26, 2015 entitled "Hurricane Damage and Gifts"

In a post dated Feb 8, 2015 and entitled "Careful Beach Days" you'll find a brief mention of Dr Roberts.  He had what was called "Dr Roberts' Ocean  Oasis.". After the hurricane it was rebuilt as the compound marked by the blue circle in the photo above, although the main building with palapas looks much the same.    We did look at renting a room there once before Odile, but the communal kitchen/dining room in the downstairs of the main building was a deal breaker for us.  What you did get at Dr Roberts', however was a bit of the owner's contagious enthusiasm for the Baja lifestyle.  Indeed, hanging out at Dr Roberts' you couldn't help but notice the communal feel to the place and the people staying there: surfers and vagabonds.

The unmarked place between the Surf Hotel and Dr Roberts' was named "The Osprey" and has always been a non-rental, privately owned.  The wall bearing the name has been repainted and closed with a gate.  It no longer bears the name, so it must have a new owner.  We've never seen or met anyone staying at the place.

The grounds of both the Surf Hotel and Dr. Roberts were always open.  People often stopped in to visit.  Now, both places are walled and gated.  Both are private, non-rentals.  The Surf Hotel property has all new buildings.  Word in the neighborhood is that the owner of the ritzy and exclusive resort down the road, now owns what was the Surf Hotel property.

What has changed is the lack of comradery amongst strangers.  Where once this place was the favorite stomping grounds of travelling folks trying to get by "on the cheap" has become a playground for wealthy people.  There are still a few cheap places to rent (I can count 4, including ours), but now there are more wealthy people buying property and putting up homes that will sit vacant most of the year. (If you are not bored yet, you can read more about the building changes in a blog post from March 15, 2024 entitled "The End is the Beginning" )

We also miss many of the people we knew at the beginning.  Gary (see blog post dated Feb 3, 2014 entitled "Ode to Gary"), Thomas, Big Wave Dave and Chuck are all gone.  Dr Roberts fell victim to dementia and has moved along.  Last year and this we asked some Mexicans if they knew of Lupe, Gary's handyman and what had become of him.  Twice we were told he, too had passed.  I think of him this year whenever we walk the road and I miss running into him. (You can read a bit about Lupe in the blog post from April 16, 2014 entitled "Circle Closure"

What has stayed the same is the wonderful weather and the amazingly vacant beaches.  Even at peak hours of the cool of the morning and sunset we rarely see more than a dozen people on the beach at once.  

The Crowd at Sunset

Well, except on Sundays when many Mexicans have the day off and drive down the arroyo to set up a shade and lunch and spend the day.

During a walk at high tide I couldn't help but celebrate the things I love about this place.  The grandeur of the whales is a constant.  When they are close to shore and I can see 20' of rubbery skin above the surface and know there's another 4 or 5 feet just below the surface, it takes your breath away.  Sometimes we see them 2/3 of the way to the horizon rising mightily from the surface, head first, leaving only their tails in the water.  When the bulk of their body crashes back to the sea, a huge splash visible from miles away marks the place to watch.  Then, after the whale has disappeared from sight, I hear the loud plop of the behemoth returning to water!

At high tide, the ocean often slops over the beach's peak where we lie in the sun reading, watching for whales, smiling at the pelicans.

Our spot on "the peak"

Sometimes, between waves, I think I can hear the sand sucking in the frothy water left behind.  After the wave has dropped down below our peak, I have noticed dozens of little geysers squirting up from beneath the sand under the sea puddle where sand crabs hide.  Sometimes, as the waves lap over the top, they send spray several feet into the air.  One morning I watched a gringo fishing from the peak when one of those spraying waves hit, covering him with sand and water.  The surprise of it left him laughing despite the sand and salt shower.

I like the Spanish language, especially when spoken by a native with the typical lilting cadence.  Our housecleaner and her husband are amazingly patient with my lousy understanding and poor vocabulary.  But they've added three words to my vocab giving me the Spanish words for doll, dustpan and passion fruit.  I love hearing the workers in our neighborhood teasing and joking with each other as they stack new cinder blocks into place.  And always, there's Mexican music blasting from a passing vehicle.

We love waking to 68 degree sunny mornings, warming to mid-seventies by 10.  Bruce walks the beach nearly every day.  I join him on days I don't do yoga.  Sunbathing is always a pleasure to our aging Montana bodies.  (Please, don't mention skin cancer!). Hot afternoons on our shaded porch, wind chimes sing"I don't need no diamond ring" and a burbling fountain contribute to the relaxation of our grown-up Quiet Time.  We live in shorts, t-shirts and bare feet.

I like how sometimes, we glimpse scenes remincent of Old Mexico.  Somedays a group of Mexicans can be seen riding horses on the beach.  Yesterday we saw what Bruce called a one-horse tiller (his is an 8).  Yes, it was a hand tiller pulled by one horse.

By 4pm the palms shade our chairs in the yard.  With a table commandeered from the yard furniture of the 5th wheeler and a fridge full of limes, we're ready for Happy Hour, Baja style.  Sometimes Peter, whose son bought Gary's property comes by for a beer.

We've had a couple of (unusual) cloudy days which make for good days to walk to town.  Lately we punctuate our return trip with a late breakfast/early lunch.  Twice we stopped at a place run by Gary's Mexican friend Roserita and twice we stopped at a place staffed by Mexicans, but subject to what I call The Gringo Factor (designed to appeal to Gringos so the price tag is more like US prices). The food, however, is yummy and healthy and the portions are so big, Bruce and I must split one order.  The passion fruit smoothies there are the most refreshing thing I've tasted.  Perfect way to break up the walk on those warm sunny mornings.

On our most recent walk to town, Bruce and I had a surprise that kept us smiling all day.  (If you haven't  yet stopped to read "Circle Closure", second paragraph, please take a minut now). As a pickup drove toward us, I noticed the Mexican driver smiling at us.  I turned to watch him pass and told Bruce, "I think I just looked into the eyes of Lupe's ghost!". Once it came to a wide spot in the road, the truck pulled over and the driver climbed out.  I watched as he walked toward us and as soon as he got within hollering distance, he covered his heart with his hands and cried out, "Soy Lupe!" I wish I had a video of that happy reunion!

What We Eat

Bean Burritos

 

Bruce's Baja Specialty

Someone asked, after my last blog entry what our daily menu was down here. Since we usually eat at home and spend quite a bit of time thinking about food, getting it into our casita and preparing it, it seemed a fitting subject.

What we eat is bounded by several immutable realities:  I'm devoted to a heart-healthy, cholesterol-reducing diet; our culinary abilities are sadly lacking; and the nearest groceries are two miles away and differ significantly from what is available in the states.  In some of the bigger stores, like those in Cabo, we are starting to see familiar staples like brown rice and pasta.  In fact, this year in Cabo, we even found a Mexican version of cottage cheese and some plain Greek yogurt. 

But here in our little local store, things look a little different. Leche delactosa (milk without lactose) is everywhere, but skim milk cannot be found.  This year, however, I found "leche light!", supposedly bajo en grasa (low-fat). No matter which kind of milk you buy, you'll find it in boxes on the shelf, not refrigerated:

Yes, that expiration date is 6 mos from now!  They use an ultra-pasteurization process, then package it in this air-tight, light resistant box and put it on the shelf.  Once the lid is cracked, however, it needs to be refrigerated just like milk at home.  And boy, does it taste creamy! (Maybe because I'm used to skim?). Bruce, who never puts cream in his coffee, puts this creamy milk in his coffee!  The nutritional label says .4ml sat fat to 100 ml milk, but it feels too much like chem class to convert volume to weight and figure what per centage of fat this milk really is.  I just prefer drinking creamy "light" milk for my calcium to swallowing down mega-sized tablets.

Eggs are eggs, it's just in how they're sold, you'll notice the difference.  In the big Cabo grocery stores they come in cartons like at home.  My theory is that because they are taken from farm to packaging plant to big store in Cabo and, they are not as fresh as what you'd find in local small stores.  The difference is in presentation.  Instead of cartons as we know them,  this is what our local store offers:

One carton (3 doz) for 100 pesos, or $6 USD

Yes, they are at room temp.  To take less than 3 doz home, you need to grab one of those thin plastic produce bags, fill it with your eggs, tie a knot in it (no twisties here) and hope like heck you get your eggs home unbroken.

What is plentiful here and looks like much of what you see at home is the produce.  While lettuce and broccoli are hard to come by, tomatoes, onions and peppers are everywhere, fresh and beautiful. Peppers!  Red, orange, green, yellow, serano, jalapeno, poblano. Onions: red, white and perfect.  Tomatoes, usually Romas, firm, ripe, beautifully red and tasty.  Avocadoes 4 times the size of those at Town and Country, and every one without a blemish.  Oranges to eat and sweet juicy ones to squeeze.  Fresh cilantro that actually lasts a week or so in the fridge. Small limes by the bucket for your margaritas, pico de gallo and guacamole.  And these days, we see specialty items: mushrooms, lemons, apples and green grapes.

Beans, either pinto or black are everywhere and cheap.  Locally made tortillas are sold in stores warm and by the kilo.  Cheeses are interesting.  Local varieties, white and soft from sheep or goat are everywhere.   Cheddar is unheard of; Panela, Chihuahua and Manchego are prevalent.  My devotion to "heart-healthy" puts cheese in the "no-fly" zone, but I do remember sampling it all when we first started coming down here and loving all of it  On our last trip to town, the friendly butcher caught me eyeing his collection of local cheeses.  Wonder if, next trip to town, I could talk him into one little taste?

Next trip to town?  Yes, it's a challenge.  Yesterday I mapped it:

Our walk started on the left of the map, at our casita near the sea.  I turned off my tracker when we reached Rosarita's where we treated ourselves to breakfast (eggs scrambled with loads of fresh veggies, best refritos I've had down here and tortillas for $6 each).  The map shows us just getting to the Transpeninsular Highway.  The grocery store is another couple of blocks east of the highway. The walk there, in the cool of the morning is pleasant.  It's the walk back with groceries on our backs that is the challenge and the reason for all our efforts to "stock up" while we had a car.

Our first few years down here, we rarely found meat in the stores.  The cattle we saw from the bus windows looked emaciated and very short on beefsteaks.  Sometimes, in Pescadero, there was a guy grilling and selling his cooked chicken along the highway and we could buy a whole cooked chicken from him.  We haven't seen him these last few years down here. With Baja's year-round high temps, fish needs to be eaten shortly after capture and very near the dock.  Restaurants and families of fishermen seem to have first dibs as seafood is seldom seen in the stores.  In Cabo we did see packaged frozen fish, but facing an hour drive with no cooler, I was scared to buy it.  In Cabo we did find whole frozen chicken and managed to get one to Pescadero unthawed.  It wasn't until we hit our local store, the day before we turned in our rental car, that I found my staple: frozen, skinless, boneless chicken breasts.  I got to know the friendly butcher when I asked him to bag me up 7 breasts.  He looked at me doubtfully, explaining it was a lot.  I hoped I clarified I wanted 7 pieces (as opposed to 7 kilos or whatever the favored unit of measure is).  When he again looked askance at me I explained that today was the only day we'd have a car.  That seemed to make sense and he wrapped me up a good-sized pile of chicken breasts.

So our meals are centered around what we can get down here.  Breakfast is easy: eggs, potatoes, rice, granola, avocado toast (no bagels).  Lunch is dinner left-overs, yogurt, peanuts, fruit.  Dinner is where we get imaginative, first with our grocery stock and second with our cookware.  It's really kind of minimalist.  With no colander, the vegetable steamer drains our washed veggies, pasta and lettuce (when we have it).  We have plenty of fry pans, but only 3 burners that work.  A fry pan with metal handle serves as our only baking dish.  Witness my enchiladas:

And we don't go all-out buying spices.  my mainstays are cumin, chili powder, fresh garlic and fresh cilantro:

The chili powder says it has lime flavor in it too, but that doesn't explain the bright red color.  It even turns my chicken pink, but I like the flavor it gives my fajitas.

Chicken Fajitas

And so what is available is what determines our menu.  Bruce got creative our first meatless years down here and combined sauteed veggies serving them over rice, potatoes or pasta and garnishing with one of those great cheeses melted atop.  We still eat that often, but sadly, my portion bears no cheese. Pico de Gallo adorns most everything because we like it so much.  I suppose that is why all our meals look so much alike.  At home we like poblano burgers as our one beef meal a week, when we don't have steak.  At home we buy the leanest burger and make mine small.  Here, in the big store in Cabo, Bruce was pretty excited to find frozen "hambergesas" ready for the grill.  We bought a pack of 8 patties and prepared our first two as poblano burgers:

Being composed of pork and soy in addition to a little beef, they mostly taste like cardboard and needed some dressing up.

As I finish typing, I can hear the workers next door singing heartily in Spanish as they tend the landscaping in the unoccupied house next door.  I can smell my next batch of beans simmering on the stove.  And so, another day in the Baja begins.

2026 Hotel Aereopuerto

We've been in Mexico a full week now and that week was full of a variety of experiences.

Our first week in Mexico began with a stay in the luxurious (by Mexican standards) Hotel Aereopuerto.  Visible from the sidewalk outside the "Arrivals Terminal" it stands a tall and proud rectangular building with few architectural details.  It does, however,  have everything we need for our first night in San Jose del Cabo: an airport shuttle, a restaurant, a bar, a swimming pool and nearby car rentals and Oxxo.  After several stays here, we now know some of the ins and outs.  

Hotel Aereopuerto

Our first time staying at Hotel Aereopuerto, we rode the shuttle from the airport.  The next day we rode it back, checked in at the car rental desk, then rode their shuttle to the car lot, right near our hotel!  Nowadays we know the walk to the hotel in the warm Mexican sun feels perfect after hours in airplanes and airports.  Our first year we attempted the walk, we were stopped by fences and a gate separating us from the hotel.  Luckily, a car stopped at the gate and using a remote control, opened the gate.  We scurried through before the gate closed, feeling quite fortunate to have timed our arrival just right.  It was on our way to the car rental that we watched a pedestrian simply push the gate open!  And we discovered that all the car rentals are within a block of the hotel. Another nice walk in Mexican sunshine.

This year we laughed with the woman walking the opposite direction who helped us open the gate about how heavy it was.  Since we were a little early for check-in (no early check-ins here) we stashed our bags and headed for the Oxxo.  What's an Oxxo you ask?  Picture a Town Pump with shelves of tequila behind the register and you'll have it about right.  Yes, they have mix there, too.

At Hotel Aeropuerto they have glass glasses in your room and ceramic coffee mugs.  On the door to the swimming pool, there is no sign forbidding glass in the pool area.  On the gate to the pool from the parking area there is no lock requiring a room key and no warning about slick tiles or lack of lifeguard.  This is life in a society where people don't seem to sue each other.

A trip to the bar after dinner felt like a welcome home.  I first poked my head in to see if there were still a bar and I saw a familiar face "Te recuerdo, " I started to say and the bartender finished my sentence saying,"Del ano pasado." We have fun helping each other with our languages.  I'd looked up the word for retirement (jubliado) because last year he told us he was saving so he could retire and he corrected my pronunciation of my new word.  I like how it looks like jubilant.  Wonder if they share a latin root?

After our free breakfast the next morning, I thought to ask the kitchen guys if they had any cardboard boxes I could take.  One of the "outs" we learned on a previous trip is the lack of bags at the grocery store!  One year we filled our trunk with loose groceries...and I mean filled it!  Another year, I bought a couple of giant garbage bags from a guy in the parking lot selling them for some alcoholic recovery organization.  The cardboard boxes from the kitchen worked much better.

Our load of groceries from San Jose del Cabo

At the car rental place I added another word to my Spanish vocabulary with the help of one of the bilingual guys behind the counter.  I wanted the word for groceries.  He gave me "mandaba" and explained that is a Mexican term referring to not only groceries but also your grocery list. It translates as "command", but in Mexico it means groceries.  It reminds me of how one word can hold part of a culture.

It wasn't until our second day in Mexico, after we'd done our mega grocery run that we made our way from busy San Jose Del Cabo to the quiet beach town of Pescadero.  As we made our final turn to our little bungalow we spotted Canadian friends Peter, Joyce and Beryl on their rooftop deck.  We honked and waved, saw Joyce return a wave, but wondered if they recognized us in our rental car.  The next morning when Peter wandered by and stayed for a coffee that we knew they'd seen us.  Finally, on Thursday night, I got to fall asleep listening to the ocean.  After coffee with Peter Friday morning we drove to town for produce and frozen chicken.  Saturday morning we made the harrowing drive back to Cabo to return the car.  Imagine driving one of the busiest roads in Baja with the usual aggressive Mexican drivers and a passenger reminding you regularly of the speed limit.  Suffice it to say, we were both majorly relieved once all the rental papers were signed and we rode back to Pescadero on the comfortable, air conditioned bus, watching a Richard Gere movie.  The walk from the bus station to our bungalow allowed us time to reacquaint ourselves with the neighborhood.  It feels good to be back in our Mexican digs, ready to slip back into a simple Baja routine.