All right, I’m feeling less murderous now. For those of you who mentioned that you’re never going to Mexico after hearing about our trip, consider that most of this could have happened anywhere. Mexico is gorgeous, and I don’t want you to skip it just because we had a run of bad luck. Plus, the water in Cabo produced no ill effects, despite many a blended drink. We only had problems when we were drinking spring/well water in a non-populous area. Seriously guys, they serve bowls of melted cheese in Mexico. You don’t want to miss that shit.
Though we didn’t have camera battery chargers, which meant I couldn’t use my fancy camera, my iPhone camera worked great. Also, the point-and-shoot battery kept chugging for almost the entire trip (nice!). The photos look like we had an entirely different vacation, which means that I can now begin to lie about our time in Mexico until I’ve effectively blocked out reality. Excellent.
Every place we stayed was amazing (water issues and double bookings notwithstanding). The hotel where we stayed for a single night due to the double booking was so good that I would consider going back.
What? I would!
Every single interaction we had was friendly. The woman at the Mexican Inn even called the airport and argued vehemently with them about our “lost” luggage.
Bryan and Libby are not complainers, so no one talked about the disaster unfolding until we were on the way home. This made everything oddly bearable.
The weather was balmy and perfect, and I got to wear sundresses and hunt for seashells in January. Dreamy.
Mexico did not run out of tequila while we were there.
Hank had a blast. He got to play in water every day, watched more movies than he’s usually allowed (due to the midnight wakeups), and had our undivided attention for a week, as he was the most entertaining thing for miles. Plus! There were roosters! Hank loves him some chickens.
We had guacamole every single day.
The night when we had to stay at a hotel because of the house booking issues, we had dinner by the water while Hank slept in his stroller. We woke to a sweeping view of the sea. Hank spent the next day floating his rubber duckie in the pool, while Libby and I gossiped over Margaritas with chips and salsa, and Bryan rented an ATV.
When Bryan collapsed in Cabo on New Year’s Eve, Libby and I abandoned him and hit the town. We eventually landed at a nearly empty Karaoke bar with a loyal clientele of serious singers. We drunkenly screeched our way through “Like a Virgin” as the other patrons studiously avoided eye contact. The DJ fell in lust with Libby (surprise), poured his drink into a plastic cup and tried to drag us back out on the town. When Libby demurred, he told us where the good “Mexican Parties” were, i.e., places where you didn’t have to pay a $60 cover. We took his advice and Salsa danced into the early morning hours wearing feathered party hats.
The next day we had a bowl of melted cheese for lunch.
See now? That wasn’t so bad after all.