Back the truck up- -let's end that vacay, shall we?

I'm such a tool. I always end up having this great idea to do a blog, and then I don't complete it. Sorry folks.

The next day, we went for a LONG walk in the morning, which was great fun because we got to see some of the incredible tee boxes on the Jack Nicolas golf course on the Casa Del Sol property. It was lovely! Then, we swam and read until the taxi came to pick us up to go...

ZIPLINING! SO much fun. Thank goodness we took the advice not to drive out there, but to go via taxi. To drive out there, you're heading into the middle of the desert on a dirt road, up winding cliffs... it's bizzare. Let the local drive it, he knows what the hell he's doing. And when the suspension goes on his van, we're not liable to the rental agency.

We get harnessed up, complete with water bottle clip, helmet, gloves, and our new 'best friend', the metal wheel trolly that we used to fly down the lines. We go down mini zipline to test out if you're a chicken shit, or if you're actually going to complete all 8 of these lines that are scooting across this desert canyon. Well, that was freakin' FUN. Off to the next one, senor!

What they don't tell you, is that after you've ziplined all the damned way over to the next huge peak, you have to hike up a bastard mountain to get to the next one... and the next one... and the next one... it was a helluva workout. I mean, we're all in pretty darned good shape, but after a huge walk in the morning, and now we're hiking with an extra 20lbs of harnesses and 'best friends' and water attached to us in the blazing Mexican sun... sweet bloody merciful hezus, it's not exactly easy. But the adrenaline from each line is what keeps you going, it's SO MUCH FUN! We got to go down a few tandum, then got to go solo forwards, backwards, tandem 4 person... it was a bloody riot. One of the lines was 1/4 mile long, and you blast down it at approx 50mph.... You can't help but giggle your face off!

So after that fun and adventure, we hung out at the house, caught the last slivers of sun we could, had a great dinner, and had a wonderfully fun night.

The next morning, we were off to the airport to head home. BOO... Nothing of much importance happened there, except that we got there a few hours early, because we were warned about the whole return of the rental, the huge lineup, the Mexican frisking and bag searches, etc etc etc.... we thought we had the wrong terminal, because the only people there aside from us were 2 people at the boarding counter, and a few security guards. No frisking, no checking, I don't even think most of them were awake yet. Easiest. Airport. Check-In and Security. Ever. LOVED IT. A little disappointed by the lack of frisking though.

Then back in Calgary, after coming home to a dead battery and Phil spending time on the phone with Visa after a bunch of problems in Mexico, we finally got reservations at The Living Room for an incredible wine-paired 5 course dinner for Valentine's Day.

So to wrap up,

I did not die in Mexico, in fact, I met some fabulous people, I had an amazing experience, made incredible memories, and loved every minute of it!!!

Lost and Found

Alrighty, it's been a few days, so here's a recap.

The night that I wrote the post regarding the incredible supper, incredible day, etc etc, I omitted a few things that I deemed unimportant due to the lack of foresight as to how it would be interesting to anyone but Phil and myself, and me wanting to wrap up the first blahg because I was tired, drunk and done. So here's more info.

Our dinner on the marina was at Ruth's Chris Steak House, Phil had made reservations previously. We were treated incredibly well, and the dinner was incredible. Lobster bisque, steak with blue cheese crust, grilled lobster tail, creme brulee, an unbelievable bottle of Amerone, etc etc. We were specifically sat at a table right overlooking the marina. But the highlight of the dinner was that, at the table next to us, sat a Mexican couple on their anniversary, complete with pre-arranged heart-shaped rosepetals on the table and sprinkled (yes, they waited for her to sit down, and then physically sprinkled) heart-shaped red and silver glitter on the centerpiece. Since both of our reservations were at nearly the same time, our meal times were nearly identical. This gave us lots of time to chat and get to know each other. Their names are Isreal and Daniella, and they are the shit-bomb-biggity. They're from Cabo. Daniella doesn't speak much English, but Isreal speaks fluently so he translated between us, which was wicked-cool. So we find out that Isreal works at a restaurant called Edith's, only a few blocks from where we are. Anyways, we have an incredible meal, awesome conversation, and part ways. Phil and I walked the Marina until we ran into our friends at Barometro, and had a few drinks there, walked the marina again until we decided that we had seen enough of the clubs (the Pink Pussycat was my favorite).

The next day, on Isreal and Daniella's recommendation, we take our rental car to Todos Santos, which is about an hour up the Pacific side of the Baja from Los Cabos. There, we had lunch at Hotel California, visited an artisan market, had a wonderfully great time. (Yes, I KNOW that 'Hotel California' in the Eagles hit is a metaphor. But it's beautiful, I had the most gigantic plate of nachos I've ever seen in my life, and got to play with a chihuahua. Typical Fucking Mexico. It was brilliant.) The drive was fun, Mexicans drive like crazy fucks, Phil tried to do the same but was out-crazied by the locals (which is for the best, considering that IT'S A RENTAL, PHIL...), and there was road construction nearly the entire way. It was great to experience Mexico in that kind of rawness.)

Then yesterday, we drove to San Jose, walked the streets, had tacos at a small bakery, went to the Mega for all of the groceries to make dinner. It was a great little jaunt. Spent the rest of the day by the pool reading, made stir-fry, and had a great evening in. Then we played, "What's Your Stripper Name?". I found out that I am in great company with Turk Dover, Toby Lark, and Buster Styles. That is FUCKING GREAT. (I'm Candy Collins BTW. We don't need to go anywhere to see the Pink Pussycat. We live in it.)

TODAY however.

Phil and I start our day out by deciding that we want to see Land's End, which is a hole-in-the-rock at the very end tip of the Baja. The only way to get there is via boat. So we drive into Cabos, however, our usual route to the parkade was blocked off. Because APPARANTLY every Sunday, they block off one side of the major traffic artery, so that kids can rollerblade and skateboard, and everyone can ride their bikes and walk their dogs and be leisurely. GREAT for them. Not so great for tourists. We drive and drive, until we're hopelessly lost. We keep driving. And get EVEN MORE HOPELESSLY LOST. We are officially lost in Mexico.

Amber (before going to Mexico): "GAWD! THE ONLY PEOPLE WHO GET STABBED AND RAPED AND MUGGED IN MEXICO ARE FUCKING STUPID BECAUSE THEY JUST AIMLESSLY GO INTO STUPID AREAS THAT AREN'T SAFE!".

Ahem. Well.... yeah.

We drive until we're at the mud-house end of Colonia Lomos Del Sol, and finally turn around and say, "FUCK JUST DRIVE TOWARD THE OCEAN!! THE OCEAN!! IT'S RIGHT THERE! BIG OL' BLUE! GO TO THE BLUE!! BLUUUUUEEE!!!" and finally realize where we are and where we're going. :) So we take a back route to our favorite little parkade, and stop at Barometro for a beer to get our wits about us after our adventure. During this time, we have an intersting chat with the bartender, and meet Poncho the local sea lion that hangs out in the harbour, and see a bazillion pelicans. More tacos at another place on the marina, meet a great couple from Oregon who work in the importation of natural foods industry.

Amber: "Gee, that job sounds.... interesting..."
Oregon Guy: "Yeah, it's great, they give me palates of free food sometimes."
Amber: "OH! Well, can't go wrong with that, eh?"
Oregon Guy: "Yeah, well, a palate of chocolate covered kale chips isn't exactly what I would call good. In fact, they're downright terrible."
Amber: "Ah."

After lunch, Phil and I make our way down to Medano beach, and rent a JETSKI. Because life wasn't exciting enough that day, and a boat to Land's End just didn't sound fun enough. We take off on our jetski, go to Land's End, dodge sea lions in the big ol' blue ocean (who are ALL OVER THE PLACE!!), scoot around the Cabo San Lucas Bay, all the way from Land's End to Villa del Palmar. FUN. FUN. FUN. After an hour, we go home to shower the ridiculous amount of salt off of us ("That's why the water is salty. From the fucking whale sperm" - Snooki, Jersey Shore.) Then, undecided on what to do for dinner, but wanting to do something nice, we decide, "HEY! Let's head into Cabo and see if we can get a table at that place Isreal works at!!"

So, WARNING. NEXT PART OF BLOG, I'M GONNA GET SERIOUS AND DESCRIPTIVE. BECAUSE I NEED YOU ALL TO ENVISION WHAT I EXPERIENCED THIS EVENING. We pull up in front of Edith's Restaurant. Valet Parking. Woah. I'm impressed. We are greeted by the nicest people, we ask to sit in Isreal's section, much to their surprise (I don't think they get a lot of people in there who know the waiters by name). We get led through this incredible open air restaurant with candle lights, intriguing beautiful hanging lights, and multiple palapas. The thatched palm leaf roofs and bright colorful tablesettings, palm trees, flowers, and fountains just create the most perfect atmosphere. The well dressed waiters are like a ballet of ants, creating a symphony of service I've never seen before. There is not one waiter helping you to your table. One has led you there, one has greeted you, one has your chair pulled out and is assisting you, one has placed your napkin on your lap, one has hung your coat up, one has placed a menu in your hands... it was so fluid and synchronized that you would swear that it was rehearsed a million times. Fuck, we can barely get a chorus to march to the same goddamned beat on the same foot sometimes in musical theatre (*CoughSouthPacificCough*). Anyways, needless to say, Isreal was over the moon to see us there, so we were introduced to his brother, his cousins (all who work there), his boss, his friends... we were well taken care of. The menu was incredibly extensive and very flexible. They come to your table and physically show you exactly what cuts of meat, fillets of fish, lobster, shrimp, etc your meal can begin with. Deciding that champagne was enough for an appetizer, we both ordered Wally's Special. Mine featured the catch of the day fillet, grilled lobster tail and shrimp scampi, and Phil's had filet mignon, grilled lobster tail and shrimp stuffed with cheese and jalapeno wrapped with bacon. Holy mouth-watering, no-talking, culinary genius Batman. Accompanied by the mariachi band, our dinner was exquisite. Then flaming banana which Isreal's cousin prepared for us at the table, espresso, some liquour that was divine...

I have eaten at restaurants in 7 different countries. 5 star, 4 star... no star. THIS. Beat the living SHIT out of every other dining experience I have ever had in my life. Meal, atmosphere, service... EVERYTHING WAS PERFECTION. I cannot describe it. (And a beautiful touch was when I asked "¿Dónde está el baño?", I was not given instructions, I was led by the arm to the washroom by the first waiter I asked. THAT was super-cute.). Can't say enough about it, I would go to Cabo again, just to eat there. Amazing.

So yeah. Long and short.... I'm having a horrible time and can't wait to come home??? <------- LIES!!!!

In Mexico We Lie

Well, it's been a while. Because Crackbook prevents me from the blogging shit and encourages me to make point-form accounts of my life that are easier for me to manage. But, again, being urged to do this blog shit, here I go.

I'm in Mexico. Cabo San Lucas, to be more specific. Los Cabos, for those who want to be a dick about it. It's pretty much amazing. No resort, it's a private house that a friend has exclusive rights to because he spends an exorbitant amount of money with them and can choose the casa he prefers. This, my friends, is a gooder.

Anyways, to backtrack. Because the only hopeless fools that will likely be reading this shit is my family, and... well.... yeah. So, to you German/Ukrainian peeps, here we go. And to Phil you're pretty much obligated to proofread this shit, so, to you, as well.

Calgary... I met my future brother and mother-in-law. *Hint Hint*. They are both people I would welcome into my casa with open arms and hearts. No bullshitting, they're acutally really awesome people, despite what Phil says. (He's probably going to edit this part out. FYI. If he didn't... win for Amber. Or he fell asleep before I finished and posted. Either way, SURPRISE!! Win for Amber.)

Flight.... uneventful. Food- -no such thing. Company- -old people and an engaged couple that didn't put their goddamn seats in their upright and locked positions. They were probably American. Or from Quebec. Or Conservatives.

Cabo.... AWERSOME! Was picked up by Max and taken to Villa de Amor in Cabo Del Sol. BEAUTIFUL. Our friends were waiting for us, and let me tell you, this place is incredible. Main floor- -pool, hottub, bar, loungers, fully stocked kitchen, tv, laundry, etc etc etc. PHIL AND I'S PRIVATE FLOOR: Our own pool w/waterfall, deck area, bed with panorama windows, living room area, computer I'm at right now, vacant bunk beds, shower, etc etc etc.

We have had a great time. Relaxing, reading, working out... thankfully, our host friends are just as much into clean eating and exercise as we are, and we have been eating clean and healthy for (almost) EVERY meal, working out every day, and having fun! For example, today, we started by having a half an hour walk to the hotel, overlooking the beach for Zumba at 9:00am (which was fucking stupid hot because of the morning sun in our faces, but STUPID FUN NONETHELESS!), followed by pool aerobics at 10:00am (Phil and I were the youngest ones in the water... it was geriatric soup), and then sunning ourselves, Coronas, Phil and I's excursion to the ocean where we watched the whales jump, played with crabs, and got coated in sand and salt water. The boys then went into town for lattes, and the ladies stayed by the pool for reading and sun and drinking and next-to-topless-sunbathing. (boys are stupid, and we should throw rocks at them. You know that logic we learned at the age of 7? Hasn't changed.) The ladies and I listened to a bunch of New Jersey and Nebraska people chat about how this was the worst. vacation. ever. ("Oh. My. Gawd... and THEN we complained about the clanging noise from our rooms... and THEN we were moved...get this.... at THREE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING to another room because we had been complaining for the last 30 hours... and THEN the room was smaller... and THEN we had to make reservations.... RESERVATIONS at the resteraunt for SuperBowl... and THEN they sat us in the balcony in front of NO TV'S... AND THEN THEY RAN OUT OF FOOD.. AND THEN... AND THEN... AND THEN...") Americans.... living up to our standards since... forever.

AND THEN.... we went to dinner at the most beautiful (and expensive) resteraunt in Cabo on the harbour where we met the most incredibly lovely couple on their anniversary dinner, walked the harbour, and had an incredibly amazing night.

So... I have avoided elevators, NOT avoided high powered hand dryers... (pictures to follow once I figure out this machine), and enjoyed us to the point of silly (pictures to follow. :).

Cabo.... never send me home. I beg you. But you can send the Americans home ANY TIME YOU WOULD LIKE. :)