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A Lyrical Paradise
"There's a sleepy town, south of border, if you go there once, you'll be there twice."
These enticing lyrics from Van Halen's "Cabo Wabo" on their "QU812" album piqued my curiosity. Visa commercials gave me drive to seek Cabo quest. With tenth wedding anniversary at hand. it seemed a perfect excuse to search for holy vacation grail (and blow a thousand bucks).
"Land''s end, you'd have to see it, ain't no picture ever say it right."
LAND'S END
Cabo San Lucas, tip of Baja Peninsula, where West Coast trendies seek sand and seclusion. Home of Marlin Alley, where legendary Americans such as Bing Crosby and Duke Wayne first discovered unbelievable angling. (The marlins are said to outnumber people.
Cabo is a mere seven hour journey, from locking door in Las Vegas, to not unlocking door at elegant Hotel Cabo San Lucas.
No keys, no hassles, no worries, just lush landscaping, spectacular beaches and free welcoming Margaritas. After a 45 minute hop to Phoenix and a short layover where we should've overcome temptation to buy jizzy, cheap bottled Margaritas, we arrived at pleasant Cabo International Aeropuerto. (Airport code SJD.
Hotel Cabo San Lucas We weren't aware of Hotel Cabo San Lucas' complimentary transportation from Aeropuerto, thus subjecting ourselves to ninety's version of Montezuma's revenge: "Timeshare Salesmen." The encounter was brief and painless; cervesa was muy frio making 20-minute journey in "cab" more enjoyable. (Ford Econoline vans equipped with a special Mexican air-conditioning package. The AC controls on dash board just move windows up and down.
We were greeted at hotel with Margaritas by congenial Oscar Flores, who then showed us to our luxurious and spectacular ocean view suite. (All rooms at HCSL have ocean views, assured Oscar.
Cabo San Lucas offers parasailing, horseback riding on beach, sunset cruises, day long ATV rides into isolated Indian country that still practices witchcraft.
"We drink Mescal right from bottle. Salt shaker, little lick of lime, Ohhh!"
Searching for CABO WABO Continuing with our 10 year tradition of bad luck and lousy timing, it was time to checkout downtown Cabo. Not us though. Not willing to waste a precious minute waiting for free transportation provided by hotel we hopped a $15 "cab" to town. We hammered Calles looking for peso shopping action. Even devalued black market gringo dinero isn't valuable during Siesta time. (Only stupid gringos go shopping during Siesta.
And plenty of nightlife. The best of times are found at Van Halen's "Cabo Wabo" cantina, where LA bands jam almost every week and Ed, Sammy and rest of Van Halens used to frequently sit in
El Sol is fizzling. We stumble into "Cabo Wabo" cantina just in time for happy hour. Greeting us is our new bartender friend and Mexican host, Luis. Luis breaks language barrier with a couple of mean Margaritas. Through bad Spanish, malo English, and many "two for one" Margaritas, communications opened up with our Tequila-slinging compadre. "Cabo Wabo holds over 200 caballeros indoors", says Luis. "As many as 800 pour into streets of Cabo on party nights.