There are holidays where something memorable happens every day, or you visit one or more jaw-droppingly gorgeous sites each day. This past week wasn't like that.
This was our fourth trip to Cabo San Lucas, so we've already seen and done everything there is to see and do. And it's not a classy place. It's too close to America for that, and that proximity makes it more of a central American Benidorm, albeit somewhat hotter and spicier.
This trip was all about relaxing - avoiding anything work- or stress-related, and hanging with my honey.
Did I just write that? "Hanging with my honey?" Pavey won't mind being called "my honey", but Ivor Davies, my grammar school English tutor, would turn in his grave. They probably buried him with the blackboard eraser he used to throw at us Somerset bumpkins whenever we lapsed into our local accents, or used colloquialisms.
After 15 years' of living in the USA, I worry less and less about Americanization (see, I even use Zs automatically). But every now and then something slips out that has me re-focusing on my English for the following few days.
Anyhow, back to Cabo. It was ridiculously hot. Neither of us lay out in the sun once, but splashed around in the pool or hot tub, and read in the shade. The biggest effort of the day was expended debating where to go for lunch or dinner.
The picture is from the courtyard in a restaurant in Todos Santos, about 40 miles north of Cabo san Lucas, on the Pacific coast.
That review reads like the drivel you'd put on a postcard. Does anyone send postcards any more?
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