Breakfast at Girasoles

Breakfast at Girasoles
Originally uploaded by aries327.

The two of us in Mexico at the Hacienda Del Mar. Click on the picture and it'll take you to my photostream, which includes more photos from the trip. At the Hacienda Del Mar they called me Mrs. White. Crazy! All I can think of when I hear that name applied to me, is the board game, Clue.

Anyway, it was great. Did I mention that we pulled the wedding off without a hitch? We did. I didn't fall down the stairs, although the sandals I wore were completely flat (in other words, flats), so my dress dragged and of course there was no one carrying my train (because I didn't have one). The hem of the dress kept catching on my feet and I almost tripped myself. One hand carried the bouquet and the other was around my step-dad's arm so I couldn't lift the front of my dress. I was helpless and could only take teeny, tiny baby steps to avoid falling over myself. But apparently I was beautiful. That was good. At least I didn't end up being a ghoulish, ugly bride -- thanks to my genius sisters (mostly Kelly) who actually give a crap about make-up and doing hair. I don't know how it is that we come from the same mother*.

The whole thing is mostly a blur. I remember saying "I do" and I remember that Stoker said "I do." Those are the most important things about the night. So at least I won't go back on that promise and pretend like I didn't say "I do."

After the wedding we stayed in Salt Lake at the Hotel Monaco. We told them it was our honeymoon and so they upgraded us to a suite! They had leopard-print robes in the rooms, in case you forgot yours. So of course we posed in them, though I normally don't wear a robe. What a bother a robe is! You put it on, only to take it off almost immediately. I'd rather just go naked. Teasing, but seriously. Robe shmobe. Well anyway, that night we were too tired for anything but sleep (in case you pervert/voyeurs were wondering), though we still had the strength to pose in the leopard print robes for a few pictures (not in my photo-stream) and for Stoker to walk around saying stuff like, "My good man" because that's the kind of phrase a robe like that brings out in a person. I found it hilarious.

The next day we flew to Dallas and from Dallas to Los Cabos (it was about $1000 cheaper to do it that way). We got there at 8:30 pm, just as the sun set. At the airport, you exit onto the tarmac and walk into the airport that way. While some might find that annoying and cheap, I found it charming. After a million hours going through immigration and customs, we went to the car-rental agency. Apparently, and this is for any international travelers (but most specifically to Mexico), you have to buy insurance and also have $3000 available (cash or credit) to back up the car. That's in case you crash it and jump the border, I guess. So we said to them, "Go to hell," and didn't rent a car.

Providence was on our side and we were able to catch a ride right to our hotel (about 40 minutes away) with another, older couple (older = more credit). Ken and Barbara from Denver have been visiting Cabo San Lucas for about 3000 years. No really, 15 or 20 years, and they know it well. We had a nice chat on the way and they shared valuable bits of information with us, like that it's okay to drink the water at the hotel and restaurants, and that Poncho's has great food. We drank the water, but didn't end up going to Poncho's.

Our hotel, Sheraton Hacienda Del Mar, is on the corridor between San Jose and San Lucas, situated snugly on the beach. We didn't swim in the water because the brain-bashing waves break right on shore and it wouldn't surprise me at all if they could crush a skull on some hidden shelf of rock. Besides, the jelly-fish parts washing ashore made me nervous. What if my foot got tangled in a mass of jelly tentacles? Not even worth it. Especially with the great pools available at the resort. Pools with thatch-roofed outdoor bars and underwater barstools.

Booking web-sites such as travelocity.com and expedia.com list the Sheraton resort as a 4-star joint. But the Sheraton has a plaque hanging behind the front desk that calls them a 5-star resort. As far as I could tell (and I'm not a connoisseur by any means) they were a 5-star place. My only complaint, and I figure this goes for most of Mexico, is that whole Mexican-minute thing. They can really live up to it. Before you jump all over me, calling me racist or something, I'd never even heard that reference until one of the Mexican waiters said it to me, as a joke. And it's rather true. A few times a waiter would come ask us if everything was okay and we'd ask for some more water or something. They'd never bring it. Another waiter would come ask us if everything was okay and we'd ask for some more water. They have this system down there, at the hotel anyway, where a few waiters cover your table. For example, Carlos would come introduce himself and say he and Jorge would be our waiters. Sometimes it worked. Other times it wouldn't. When you're paying a veritable arm and a leg for meals there, it should always work.

More on the honeymoon later.

*A joke. I really do know.