Cabo San Lucas. Home of...hell if I know, but what a place! The cerveza flowed freely, Pesos were the name of the game and the cost of taxi rides to the exact same place every day, changed...every day.
I missed Sammy Hagar by ONE day. Son of a bitch.
My innards are now completely acclimated to Mexican fare and I can NOT stop eating food that lights me on fire. I did, however, cease injesting the grilled serrano peppers served as a side at nearly every taco stand. After three days of living with blisters and sores all over the inside of my mouth, I determined that I should forgo those little devils for the rest of the trip. It was a necessary sacrifice. My mouth was in full revolt.
As a cure, I flung myself in a beach chair, in the sun...for six hours. It's quite possible the sun had damaged my brain.
In all likelihood, I singlehandedly consumed five pounds of guacamole. Of the five nights I was in Cabo, I ate dinner exactly one night. The rest of the time my meals consisted of splitting gaucamole and various appetizers between the five of us...and beer. Ahhhh....Mexico.
- Mango juice
- Frozen strawberry daquiri mix
- Avocados (More guacamole, please!)
- Cilantro (Sad, sad looking cilantro)
- Tomatoes (Sad...SAD looking tomatoes)
- Tortilla chips
- Six diet Cokes (not a damn diet Dr. Pepper in the whole flippin' place)