Adios Los Cabos! Sayonara! Hasta La Vista!
I spent a lovely lazy morning reading and drinking coffee, occasionally gloating about the weather to those back home kind enough to humour me.
After tidying and packing we set off to find the Aquila Bus Station and confirmed two facts: exerting oneself in the slightest, (even when overcast), in Cabo is a sweaty affair and one should ALWAYS watch where they’re walking.
This merely skinned knee does not begin to convey the impressive tumble I took onto the sidewalk. I managed to skin both my knees, rough up my palms and bruise my forehead.
The bus ride was lovely. Deserts are all so different! (Obvi, I know I know). But! Seriously. The desert of northern Chile and northwestern Bolivia was so brown, a rich brown, with small explosions of bright green and everything was.. soft? somehow. Here it’s a dull dusty brown, covered in plants that are a dull dusty green or grey twigs without any foliage left (because of death or season I’m not sure). And neither resembles the descriptions of the Australian desert I’m reading of from Bill Bryson.
Between the mesquite bushes and the king cacti it’s all quite tall as well.. my bus photos don’t do it justice. I found it beautiful.
Meanwhile, inside the bus, Batman vs Superman was playing. This particular version was DC Comic’s contribution to the Spanglish Rosetta Stone. The film switched between English and Spanish, seemingly at random, and had Spanish subtitles intermittently. Odd, to say the least.
Todos Santos is lovely. There are two paved roads, all the side streets are dirt, (have no fear Saskatchewan friends, I am being meticulous with my nomenclature), and the houses are … Mexican. That is to say, cinder block and open, with defensively fenced yards and varying degrees of tidiness. We eventually found the hostel, tucked outside of the central part of town.
We ventured out to find food and ended up at La Catrina Cantina… in a town that is known for its foodie cuisine, it was probably not on the exceptional end. But the food was good, with excellent portions and a fair price. Abysmal music though.
Two, maybe three things:
I was choked to realize I will not be able to make THIS fantastic-looking show. Votes on whether Fun-kulele or Funk-ulele was intended? Mine is with Funk.
Noticed THIS on the back of my Sol bottle:
This WOULD be genius … if Arabic and Spanish didn’t use different alphabets.. *palm forehead*
Third: there was a fantastic buxom skeleton, (Catrina I presume), out front with whom I have a selfie date sometime in the future. In the meantime, my ceviche:
When we got back to the hostel I hooked in with a Boston-born gentleman named Dan who was walking over to Punta Lobos – the exact place I’ve been gearing up to investigate! Kari opted for the hammock, (of which this lovely hostel has several!), and so Dan and I set off for adventure. There was some hitch hiking, lots of whales, a science fiction trilogy and the investigation of a set of abandoned buildings! … alas admittedly no fish-type adventures this time.
Where do those stairs go, you ask? To the basement. Where it smells unfortunate, (though curiously, not like rotting or urine), and there are bats.
Later, after a safe arrival home and failure to entice Kari with wine or left over ceviche, I visited with a Dutch woman, Irene. We are venturing out tomorrow morning to a beach called Las Palmas. She’s never been, though she has been to the beach at the halfway mark, the Old Port. It sounds like it’s a three hour hike into the mountains and I am stoked to get outside and into the desert!
*waves sombrero wildly*