You may recall a solemn vow made in a blog post a couple years back in which I swore to never again leave the easy-breezy green paradise for the allure of La Paz. Burned once, literally, by the blazing inferno by the sea, I had all but written off one of Baja’s most popular tourist destinations. However, since we became nomads displaced from Casa Bentley by a wedding party, we dared to venture back into the shades of hell on the promise of an air-conditioned room, pool and three days of water sports. I fully expected the trip to present some adventure – pleasant or otherwise – but I would not have expected that we’d leave La Paz having come to love the town.
Arriving at the surprisingly lush and beautifully appointed Club El Moro at the far end of La Paz’s famed Malecón promenade, the desk clerk abashedly apologized for the cool temperatures. Indeed, the ocean breeze which kept the palm frond canopy in constant sway was near perfection. It took Celia only a moment to appraise the azure blue waters of the figur eight shaped pool which could be transversed by a rope and plank bridge. My eyes spanned beyond the pool to the cabana bar. For a whopping $90 a night, this would do nicely.
Our first night in town we ventured out, as tourists do, for Chinese food. Tipped off by Bob, we chirped “Donde?” until we found ourselves ordering Pollo al Limon and Arroz Fritas in a second story corner restaurant that afforded us an excellent vantage point for people watching. Since we are well past tourist season, the passersby were largely locals – and I do mean largely. Cultural norms aside, aye carumba, lay off the carbs! I decide to forego the rice and stick with the chicken for dinner.
We decided to make it an early night since we’d need to wake at the ungodly hour of 7:00 am for the next leg of our adventure. I drifted off to sleep with a silent prayer to the universe to keep the breezes blowing.