I’ve been dreaming of a lot of things lately. The luxury of summer’s free time is conducive to that. Perhaps most extravagantly though, I’ve been dreaming of a tropical vacation. It all started innocently with a quick Google Maps search to see what warm, beach location in California, that would still be warm on my winter break in December, would be within driving distance for us. Turns out the closest one is pretty much in Mexico, thus rendering it no longer drive-able for us. As I explored the many, many Chamber of Commerce websites for small, California coast towns, none of them could begin to compare to the glory that is Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. Since I determined that (and so it shall be), I’ve been lurking around Trip Advisor reading about what attractions are worth paying for (Submarine trip? Yes.), what hotels are the best combination of bargain and extravagance, and which restaurants are not to be missed. Husband has been doing what he’s good at and indulging me; he dutifully looks at the photos I send him, half-listens and full-nods when I describe the details of other people’s trips and recommendations, and pretends to not be shocked when I tell him the current ticket prices via Orbitz, Travelocity, and Priceline.
That trip isn’t going to happen anytime soon. The closest I’m going to get to tropical is the kiddie pool in the front yard of the undergraduates’ house a couple of streets over. They’ve even decorated with tiki torches and empty liquor bottles, making it my kind of place.
To quell some of the wander- and beach-lust, I made a packing collage of the essentials I’d take with me, not that I could ever pack this lightly, but still.
And where I’d be wearing all of this: