Can’t Escape the Damn Eagles
So I went with my gracious hosts to the aptly-named Todos Santos over on the Pacific side of Baja, and I found myself visiting this hotel, which allegedly inspired the Eagles song. Which song I’ve been unable to get out of my head for days now, so thanks a lot.
Jimmy Buffet was supposed to have visited the same day I was there, but I must have missed him.
Troubadors aside, Todos Santos is not only a charming village, and reminiscent of the Cabo San Lucas of thirty years ago, but there is a lovely and photogenic surfing beach nearby, just the sort of place for drinking a tall cool beverage while lounging under an umbrella. Another charming town was San Jose del Cabo on the Sea of Cortez side, where we had a very fine meal at El Herradero, which features meals cooked in a molcajete, a stone bowl carved out of basalt. I’ve been in toney Eastern Mexican restaurants where guacamole is made tableside in a molcajete, but the dish I had was seafood, cheese, and a lovely broth baked in the stone bowl, which kept the broth bubbling through the entire meal. The culinary highlight of the trip, as far as I’m concerned.
Unfortunately some of the other trip elements didn’t come together. I had a couple more dives trips planned, one with whale sharks, but high winds resulted in cancellations. High winds also closed the port on the day of my whale watching trip. So except for the one day at sea the research trips didn’t pan out.
My final night’s dinner at Sunset at Mona Lisa, which was labeled by the New York Times as “one of the world’s five most interesting restaurants,” was also canceled. I’d emailed for reservations, which their web site asked me to do, and then never heard from them until a couple hours before my reservation, when I finally called and was told there was no room at the inn.
I thought this was pretty shitty actually. If there was no reservation available, they could have responded to my email to tell me so. Or called. Instead they kept me hanging. The hell with them.
What these cancellations meant was that I had to hang around a five-star resort for several days, which I think pretty well qualifies as a First-World Problem.
(We could see whales from the terrace, since they were very close to shore. So my trip was not entirely cetacean-free.)
I’m back home now, struggling with jet lag and wondering why the weather’s so cold all of a sudden.
So now I get to face another First-World Problem, which is coping with deadlines. Back to the keyboard I go, for while I can check out any time I like, I can never leave. For long, anyway.