Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Departing

I’m sitting on an American Airlines plane, seat 18A, heading for Cabo San Lucas to do a site inspection of a swanky hotel (Esperanza) and attend an industry conference at a slightly less swanky property (Secrets). We’re still at the gate. The Captain just announced for the second time that he’s waiting for his First Officer to arrive. He (or she) better have a good excuse! Getting stuck in traffic is not one of them. I can only imagine the string of events that happens to an airline schedule when one person shows up late . . .

I notice that I think different when I’m traveling. Changing up my routine – which I do quite often – is healthy and invigorating for my imagination and creativity.

A woman hollers from several rows behind me, “Woo hoo! Free drinks!” The flight attendants are not swayed. There will be no free drinks on this flight.

 

Thinking Ahead

In five months, I’ll be sixty. How did THAT happen? Once upon a time, I thought 60 was “old.” Not anymore. Don’t look it, don’t feel it.

But I’m not one to ignore an opportunity to celebrate a milestone event with something special . . . so I’ve been considering the possibilities about how to celebrate sixty.

1. Party. I love to throw parties at my home, which is a great place to entertain. It would be the weekend before Halloween. Could be a sixties theme. Could be an early Halloween theme. Could be a Halloween in the sixties theme. Would love to book my favorite entertainer, Andrew Johns. Would love to hire a food truck. Could solicit donations for Dining for Women in lieu of gifts. However, they’re predicting an El Nino year, and we don’t have a rain backup. Still . . . a party is a possibility.

2. Travel to celebrate. It would be fun to have a “destination birthday.” Pick a place and invite friends to join me there. Someplace not too far away. Someplace that I don’t know too well, but a place on my “list.” San Miguel de Allende. Taos or Santa Fe. Jackson Hole. Carmel or Big Sur. Yosemite. Maybe rent a big home or villa with a bunch of bedrooms, which would be more intimate and fun than a hotel. Maybe go for longer than the weekend and do some writing, or painting, or meditation or yoga . . .

3. Travel for vacation. Although I am leaving for Cuba on the 31^st, I could conceivably schedule a trip for the prior week. Japan? (when is Golden Week?) Tahiti? (Paul Gauguin cruise would be simple). Papua New Guinea? Fiji? Chile?

Arriving

I haven’t been to Cabo in probably a dozen years. Like everything and every place, it’s changed. New airport. New highway. New hotels. LOTS of new hotels. On the landscaped highway from the airport to the Corridor, which could rightly be called “Hotel Row,” there are sparkling new dealerships for Cadillac, Mercedes and Audi.

I’m welcomed at Esperanza like a VIP – several hotel staff await my arrival, my bags are whisked away, I’m offered a cold towel and welcome drink (choice of alcoholic or non). I’m escorted to my 925-sq-ft ocean-view suite, with my own infinity-edge hot tub on the terrace.  On the table, along with a welcome note from the General Manager, there’s a beautiful presentation of homemade gaucamole and salsa fresca. A handsome young butler is standing by to mix me a margarita as my Personal Concierge shows me the features of the room.

The window wall opens to the ocean view and the sound of waves crashing on the shore. There’s a comfy sofa on the terrace. Note to self: I’m sure the bed is wonderful, but I will sleep outdoors tonight.

On my walk-through of the property I’m shown the suite where Obama stayed during the G20 Summit in 2012. Later in the afternoon, I swim a few laps in the infinity pool. I spend some time on the beach – watching and photographing the waves. After dinner I light some candles and soak in the hot tub. Then I retire to the sofa on the terrace, and fall asleep under the stars to the soothing music of the sea.

I may stay here forever. Ahhhhh . . . . .

 

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

7:45 AM – Yoga. Ahhhhh . . . . .

Why don’t I do this regularly? The stretches are therapeutic and healthy. Grateful that I’m still pretty limber for 59+. The experience transports me to a zen-like state of mind.

As the session concludes, the yoga teacher mentions that today is the start of a new moon. “This is an auspicious day to start something new,” she said. Maybe I’ll start a yoga practice?

9:00 AM – Sauna. Ahhhhhh . . . . .

I want one of these. Never had experienced a sauna until I moved into my first California apartment – on Sherman Way in Reseda. There were very few frills in my building, but I discovered a tiny cedar-lined sauna tucked away in the ground-level parking area. I was the only person who ever used it. I’d sit in there for a long, long time soaking in the heat and sweating out the toxins. I swore I would have one in my home some day.

It’s decided: This year, I will have a dry-heat sauna. My husband, Scott, is a talented builder/craftsman – and we have a perfect place in our backyard. It will have an outdoor shower, too.

11:00 AM – Breakfast.

They serve me water with a small pitcher of chlorophyll. Refreshingly healthy.

I order waffles. Not healthy. (But oh, so delicious!)

I look out at the ocean, stretching to infinity, as wave after wave after wave swells and crashes onto the rocks. I have a strange, (possibly yoga-induced?) thought. The ocean is vast, but therein are billions and billions of single drops. I wonder if each individual drop of seawater, after traveling for months (or years) from somewhere in the south Pacific, gets excited to have finally arrived somewhere? To have someplace solid to crash against?

Or, do the same drops hang around here indefinitely – crashing over and over and over again against the same rocks? If they do cycle back out, how long does each drop get to stay in Cabo before it gets swept back to sea on the undertow?

But I digress. It’s time to pack up from this piece of Paradise and move to another property, Secrets Puerto Los Cabos, where the Incentive Research Foundation event is taking place over the next four days. An opportunity to meet and mingle with some of the best and brightest minds in my industry.

As my swanky white Escalade taxi traverses along the landscaped highway toward my next hotel in San Jose del Cabo, I see a sign pointing toward Todos Santos.

That’s it!

Todos Santos … a place I’ve heard of but don’t know much about. I’ve always wanted to go there. Sleepy (I think), quaint (I hope), artsy, colonial, not too far away,  reasonably undiscovered . . . MY kind of place.

Decision made. THAT’s where I’ll celebrate my birthday.

p.s.   You’re invited!

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