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- A Little History
- Birds, birds, birds
- Morning Activities
- Our Dinner with Guillermo
- Celebrity Amenties
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Cabo San Lucas: Our Dinner with Guillermo
So, Our Dinner with Guillermo. The only similarity to "My Dinner with Andre" being that the major character really likes to talk. Well, and both of them are reasonably witty. We met Guillermo at the Playa Grande when Bea and I attended the "owners' breakfast." This is the time when they ply you with fruity drinks and great food, ostensibly to update the owners on the improvements made recently, and/or any problems the members of the trust need to deal with. Actually, this is an opportunity for them to try to sell you something. We thought we were immune: we like the unit, it's paid for, we can trade out for a different part of the world whenever we want for not very much money. Ah, but we had figured without their new programs and without Guillermo.
Guillermo (the English equivalent is William) is a handsome and charming Mexican national with just a trace of an accent. He squired us around nicely and let us linger as long as we wanted looking at the units and the views in the new part of the development, "The Ridge." If you're staying here, you're *almost* as high up as the celebrities on the point at Pedregal. (There _are_ a few rentals up there. If you think you're in the market for something that goes for a $1000 a night, check this out.) The Ridge has a similar set of impressive views, both the Pacific and the Sea of Cortez AND the town and harbor below. Very picturesque. And it seems stations above the college kids and families at the pools, restaurants and bars just below. If we bought the upgrade package, Guillermo said, we could choose at any time The Ridge OR the new place, The Ranch, being built on the Pacific side, in the location where "Troy" was filmed.
Guillermo was very accommodating about everything. At one point in our tour, I told him that I wanted to know if the fruit of a certain hedge shrub that looks sort of like what we call a Mexican Orange was edible. He said, "Oh, that plant does not have a fruit." and I said, "Well, yes, look here." A round green fruit about the size and appearance of a key lime. Hmm. Immediately, Guillermo leaped into action to find us an answer. Consulting a gardener, who spoke no English, but was delighted to search out the ripe fruits for us to taste. A deep red-orange-blushed fruit, carefully polished on his apron and offered with a wide and encouraging smile. I had a bite, then Guillermo (Bea took a pass). I think it would be good as jam, but as a breakfast fruit, not so much. Remember Creamsicles? Orange and vanilla. This was like a cranberry version of that. Pretty tart, but with the mitigating creamy taste. I was interested in knowing if the locals did things with it, but Guillermo was only tolerant of so much in side-issues when he was trying to make a sale. He did say that it was called a Chinese plum. Maybe it's what the Chinese make plum sauce out of.
On to the sales pitch. If you have never been subjected to one of these, you will not appreciate that Guillermo was the quintessential salesman. He did not use any of the horrible techniques that are so prevalent. Mostly he chatted us up until he knew what we liked--a step-in shower, we're getting older; more flexibility in dates, we're getting tired of Spring Break Week; less cost to "bank" some time, so we can stay two weeks or even three--and said we could have it. When we said, "Oh, we don't want to upgrade to a one-bedroom, we like the studio just fine," he said "Okay." and changed it to a studio. Then later, he said he could get us the one-bedroom for the same price as the studio so we might as well take it. What a guy. But we did get a very good deal that will be more fun and more flexibility and more vacation time, so eventually we (by we, I mean Bea) signed up. THEN we got Champagne. Pretty decent stuff too. AND Guillermo said he would take us to dinner at the Sea Queen.
The Sea Queen is owned by the Playa Grande folks, but is down close to the harbor. The food and service were excellent. And I don't think it was because we were with Guillermo, although he did a fair amount of greeting and hugging. First we had sushi and wine, then we all had shrimp, mine was made in a Damiana sauce, which is the liqueur that makes their margaritas so wonderful (in the high end places, not the let's-get-drunk-on-Spring-Break places.) Here's a little bit about Damiana. See the bottle is a little damiana figure? It's quite excellent in a sauce for shrimp, too.
Guillermo was a great story-teller and translated all the love songs that the entertainer sang, embellishing a bit I'm sure. One song was about an important building (I think) that was created merely because of the smile of a woman. Another was about a woman's eyebrows. That led to a discussion of Diego Rivera, the great Mexican muralist and his (second, much younger) wife, Frida Kahlo, of the famous eyebrows and surrealistic paintings. A fascinating story that we learn a little bit more about every time we're in Mexico. But if you look at some of the photos in the Wikipedia story linked above, you'll see her actual eyebrows (as opposed to the amazing self-portrait ones) were really quite lovely. Even great artists have self-image problems, I guess.
When we were perusing the menu, Guillermo noted that the beef was from Argentina and was the very best. Argentines consider all of their products and indeed themselves to be the very best in the world, he said. They maintain that Argentina is the original Eden. Their egotism is illustrated by the story of an Argentine who had his driver take him to the top of a nearby mountain because, he said, "I want to see how the city looks without me." No self-image problems in Argentina.
The other story that I remember came about later in the evening when we were thinking about a little more wine. Guillermo told the story of three young fathers, each bragging about his son. "Ah," said the first, "I know my son is going to grow up to be an architect, or maybe an engineer. All day long, he plays with his blocks, building, building, building." "Mine," said the second. "My son is going to be a doctor, I'm sure of it. He's always tending to his stuffed animals, putting band-aids on them, listening to their chests. Yes, a doctor for sure." "Hm," said the third. "Well, I think my son is going to be a waiter--because every time I look for him, I can't find him!" Ba-da-bing! And we didn't get any more wine, either.
Guillermo predicted that the dinner would signify the beginning of a great friendship (after showing us photos of his gorgeous red-headed wife and two gorgeous red-headed daughters who live in Texas.) We thought so too. I agreed to help Guillermo get a domain-based e-mail address and did the initial research while we were there. But alas, when we got back to the states, his existing hotmail address has not produced any response from him at all. We will keep trying, but we may have to go back to further the friendship.
Not much left to tell, so it shouldn't take me long to write it up, maybe tomorrow, maybe later.
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