One hour of extra air time past San Diego brings you across the Tropic of Cancer to Cabo San Lucas, where the ocean is a good 10 to 15 degrees warmer than SoCal’s coast, the water clear enough to count your toes, and the sunset so breathtaking it melts your cares away. Well, that and the margarita you’re sipping.
Notice a sudden surge in out-of-towners dropping cash in Union Square on your lunch breaks? It’s not your imagination, nor is it a spontaneous SF obsession sweeping the nation. It’s the good ol’ swine flu (a.k.a. the H1N1, a.k.a. That Other Name No One Uses) at it again! A fleet of cruise ships has docked at our fair piers, rerouting South of the border-bound travelers to a decidedly less exotic climate. Health authorities put the brakes on all nonessential travel to Mexico, fearing any more swine-related disease be transmitted back to the states.
Bad news for eager, pale vacationers; good news for the city’s economy.
just got back from a trip to Mexico. We spent half of the time in Mexico City (smoggy in air but very cool in spirit, especially if you stay in the lovely Condesa neighborhood at my new favorite bed and breakfast, The Red Tree House) and half of the time in Isla Mujeres (that, while beautiful, was a little too full of Hotel California-loving tourists for my taste).
Beyond getting away from it all, I think the main reason to travel is for the revelatory, a-ha moments it can provide. In the case of Mexican cuisine, I had this one: Mexican food is only as good as its salsa.