Thanks, Mexico

Last night Robert and I took our walk along the boulevard.It was a particularly beautiful night. We saw a shooting star. When we reached the hotel we pulled two chaise loungers to the water's edge and reclined under the stars listening to the Sea of Cortez lap the shore. There's no surf like in the Pacific, it's more like a lakeshore--gentle, watery surges.


On the way home we caught a ride with a hotel security employee in his electric cart. He could only take us to the end of the resort property, which lessened our walk by about 300 yards. Soon after, we flagged down the patrolling policia and hopped on the truckbed with Oscar the police dog. Riding home in this manner, the wind whipping my hair, my legs dangling off the tailgate, I felt like a wild kid who'd snuck out of the house, something I've never done in my life. Thanks, Mexico.