Day Three: Cabo San Lucas

Raised the porthole covering, drew back the glass door covers, the mountains loomed in front with the sun slowly rising behind. Land (and yes, birds!). Bennett had calculated it before we picked our suite and he was on target. The port side is best on this eastward cruise. Down the west coast of Mexico and Central America and back up the east, we will see the land features and the sun rise (and then set) over them.

The mountains first, then Cabo San Lucas (or Cape St. Luke if y'all are gringos, eh?). We moored there where the Sea of Cortes and the Pacific Ocean meet to Jacques Costeau's apparent expressed delight. The huges rocks, the edifices peering off the mountainside, the shore beckoning. So on to a tender we go - it's a fancy lifeboat and fun to board while bobbing up and down on the open sea- and head in. We meet the sweetest little Mexican tour guide whose English is just lovely as can be. And now picture all those things people say as we trek off the docks, littel girls hawking whistles, men beckoning: "amigo, foto?" with whatever reptile he is holding, more amigos with silver that the tour guide says will blacken your skin tomorrow.

With Rosy (say "rossi"), we see the Iglesia de Cabo San Lucas. The tree, the bell, and the cross are still from 1733 when the Jesuits started the church. I took a photo of the Black Mary and Black Jesus for Natalie. Apparently, once Cortes found no silver and only some pearls in the 1500s, he said enough is enough and left the area to the Jesuits who established the southern outpost of the missions that run up a trail from there through our California. We saw the other highlights of this very small town, a whale skeleton, a Museo de Historia Natural, and for Bennett a homemade popsicle (from purified water the tour guide tells us) flavored mango con chile. That is his special memory.

After four morning hours in the sun (ah, sun!) and streets, we tendered back to the Infinity. Scrumptious lunch (pasta of my own concoction, salad likewise) and then laze, laze, laze on our veranda as we watched the landscape (and slept too).

In the evening, a show of songs by Jordan Bennett, I guess a B-grade Broadway performer. But certainly fun on board as he sang songs from musicals in the terrific theater. Then a stop in the Martini Bar and a nearly private dinner in a beautiful dining room away from the main dining hubbub.

"American time" keeps changing on me. (That is the expression our tour book said Mexicans use only occasionally and only when they mean it; sure enough our guide told us to be back at the square "at 12:20 American time.") We began our journey on Eastern time, then went to Pacific time, then to Mountain time, and now we are on Central time. So I must sign off for morning stretch; it is a terrific way to begin the day. I will come back and edit/proof/revise so forgive if you are reading this first draft and it's a mess.

And yes, Glynne-bee, the exercising is a vacation for me. Stretch before the land tour yesterday and then aerobics in the late afternoon. Not too bad when you can follow with another trip to the Persian baths . . . . We don't gamble. Very few youngsters on board. And best of all, Peter is our very own butler. All cruise, at our beck and call, tux in the day, tails in the evening hours. What do we need, what do we want . . . it's ours.