Leaving LA - Sea Jail

 

That title is supposed to read ‘Cabo San Lucas’. A former tiny fishing village at the tip of Baja California. It used to be that the end of the road was La Paz. When I say road, I mean a dirt track through the desert. Now the end of the road is an international airport. The fishing shack has been replaced by a beach front of miles of all inclusive resorts and the desert, golf courses, at least that is what I’ve read.

I say supposed, because we avoiding bumpy water. Only about half of the passengers are stable enough to be able to board a moving tender to go ashore, and that is excluding the Rascal electric scooters and wheelchairs. So an additional day of being locked on a floating prison ship. A nice prison ship, but my movement is certainly restricted and that sounds like jail to me.

I last wrote when we were ‘Straight Outta LA.’ and dinner was approaching. I decided to try one of the other ‘Specialty’ restaurants, Ocean blue. After the previous day’s Paella I was curious if the restaurant the was exclusively Fruit De Mer was any better than the one dish tastes the same as all the rest, dining room.

Dinner was one of the better ones so far. A nice pile of chopped up Ahi Tuna Tartar with the right amount of soy and sesame oil. I don’t think the staff knew how to work around my table. The iPad takes over the table setting and the food works around it. I know this flummoxed their well oiled service machine, but I insist. The main was a bowl of Cioppino and some very very garlic, bread. As if it was possible to have more garlic than bread, they were very close to accomplishing it. The serving was smaller than I had anticipated, but at least there were no broken shells and I didn’t end up with an angry Italian man screaming at me like the last time I ate it in Italy.

Frangelico for dessert and then off to the bar that I have been calling home since Seattle. A great Latin trio had the dance floor packed I was nervous that someone had snagged my stool on the end of the bar. My concern was warranted, I had to take a seat, in the absolute center. Not the place for an antisocial introvert. M.J. Behind the bar was shaking Mojitos, pouring wine and concocting tasty looking beverages. In between I caught out the side of my eye M.J. He was worrying a paper napkin into a ball. He didn’t strike me as the nervous sort, and I went back to watching the dancers and listening to that Latin beat. A small Cordial glass appeared on the bar next to me and in it is a perfect white paper napkin Rose. It was a darned piece of art. Thank you so much M.J.

Had a drink, said good might to the bar and to Malcolm (Mr. Malbec) and hit the room.

Morning arrived and all the usual things happened. In room Starbucks, shower, attire decisions, refueling and then the slaves to the needle group. Cross stitch, embroidery, knitting and crochet all are welcome. I pushed and pulled until I couldn’t determine where the next hole was supposed to be placed. The bulk of the image I am attempting to create is a cute, 60’s pop-art blonde. She now has one or two unplanned zits. Unplanned yes, but I guess no one says “It’s Thursday. Think I’ll have a zit on Saturday. Oh, and please make it right on the tip of my nose.”

The afternoon was wasted on a deck outside watching the never changing sea pass.

On boarding I had made several reservations for various activities. One of those was admission to the main musical production on the big stage. It was unexpectedly great. Great enough that I went back to see the show for the 930 performance as well. Four boys, four girls, dancing, three vocalists and while the stage did not change, the background was all digital and did change. Each of the dancers had a few minutes to solo their steps besides their group sets. I think I enjoyed it more the second time than the first.

I went back to my bar for a nightcap and Malcolm beckoned. I made the usual small talk. That did you do today? What did you eat? Then he started talking. His wife had died in 2023 and he was still recovering from it. Aortic aneurysm. She wasn’t feeling well and they were cuddling on the couch, she grasped his arm said “I love you” and passed away. I am pretty good at interrupting people when they are talking, this was one of the few times that my brain told my mouth, ‘Just shut the Hell up and listen.’ Glistening eyes he finished and moved on to the good times. The good times sounded pretty good.

The house lights rose signifying it was time to find a different bar. I bid Malcolm Adieu and made the long walk back to my room.

This morning, was wash, rinse, repeat of yesterday and all other sea days.

Breakfast the same as yesterday. I noticed three couples a the tables near to me having their breakfast. Other than ‘What are you having?’ Honestly not a single other word was muttered by any of the three couples. I found that sad that on vacation the only conversation you have with your spouse is their culinary choices in the morning.

As I left the man at the next table glanced my way. I said ‘See ya’ (I thought I had a smile in my voice) he acted as if I had handed him a Watchtower pamphlet and asked him if he had accepted Jesus Christ as his personal savior. I think some people are just too perfect in their own eyes.

Needle group at 10 and when my eyes crossed I moved location and knocked this bit of self promotion.

Maybe I’ll be back later.