After being deprived of international travel for a few years, I was enticed by and, in fact, eager for a type of trip I normally would avoid: an all-inclusive resort. Although I had only been to such a resort only one other time in my life, I suspected this sojourn wouldn't be entirely up my alley.
I headed to
One Big Holiday with a group, but for a variety of reasons, we all arrived in Cancun, Mexico, at different times, leaving each of us to fend for ourselves in finding our shuttle bus to
Moon Palace Cancun. Wading through the fray at the crowded airport public-transportation port was the most authentic interaction we had with locals for the duration of the trip, which we spent sequestered in the grounds of the resort, where most of the natives we saw were of the iguana variety (left). That sweaty scrum was a great contrast to the orderly arrival in Los Cabos, Mexico, in 2012, when my boss at the U.S. Consulate in Tijuana asked me to work the
G20 summit for 10 days, despite
my absolute cluelessness. Back then, when I saw a sign for the "sherpas' meeting" (right), I thought I might run into some people who had scaled Mount Everest; in actuality, these sherpas were the governmental staff members who negotiate agreements in advance on behalf of country leaders, who then reject or accept them during the event. Get it? They help lead the officials to the summit, see? With this lack of understanding, it was no surprise that I was assigned to the more simple tasks of copying, laminating, stapling, and so on.In terms of accommodations, both the Moon Palace and Hotel Barceló have enviable oceanside locations (top left). In Cabo, the ocean is dangerous to swim in, what with its prevalent riptides, and in Cancun, the danger comes from sharks and jet-ski gunmen, so they both have extensive pools that are the center of the action (top right). Even during my work trip, I had some time to spend by the pool, even if I was sometimes interrupted by a phone call to run an errand. Somehow, I also managed to squeeze in dinners at three of Hotel Barceló's reservations-only restaurants: the Spanish El Cortijo, the Japanese Lotus, and the steakhouse La Hacienda. At Moon Palace, we hit up the Indian Agra and the Asian Teppanyaki Momo (bottom).
Ten years ago and this year, our favorite place to relax was the adult pool, preferably with a swim-up bar. In Cabo, this pool happened to be right next to the clothing-optional Desire Resort (top left). Despite my best efforts to scrounge up some scandal, I never did hear the kind of offensive noises that, according to legend, reverberated across the high walls during the Secretary of State's visit earlier in 2012. The sounds and views from my room were quite a bit better, especially during sunrise (top right). But even that didn't compare to our room in Cancun (bottom left), from which we could not only spy the ocean but also enjoy the melodies of the seaside stage (bottom right) -- with everyone around us fully clothed (well, mostly clothed).
For many others in my group, the main draw of the Cancun trip was the music festival, named after
a song by its headliner,
My Morning Jacket. Jim James and the crew played three of the four nights of the festival (left), but there were also plenty of opening acts worth watching (right). I, for one, was partial to
Lord Huron, whose bassist did a DJ session for a pool party one day.
But a girl can only spend so much time poolside, drinking slushy, fruity drinks, so we tried some of the activities on offer at Moon Palace: mini-golfing, renting bikes, playing pool, and even running a 3K one morning. In Cabo, I was more easily able to get off resort grounds, so I used some of my free time to play tourist. One morning, I walked to nearby San José del Cabo, which has a historic district built around a pleasant plaza complete with fountain, flagpole, gazebo, and church (left). Within site of the church is the town's art district, which hosts an art walk every Thursday during high season (right). I went on a Sunday morning, when the shops were still shuttered.
Another day I made the nearly one-hour trek to Cabo San Lucas, which is worlds away from San José del Cabo in terms of atmosphere. I had the taxi drop me off at the well-known Cabo Wabo Cantina, then I promptly walked away from it. I'm sure the tequila there is great, but if you're no connoisseur, just about every other restaurant around the marina (left) will give you a free shot with your lunch or dinner. Classy, huh? To redeem the outing, I headed to Baja Brewing Company; in San José del Cabo, the brewpub is adorned with a beautiful patio tucked amid the art district, and in Cabo San Lucas, it is located in a mall next to a Johnny Rockets. The ambiance was nearly unpalatable, but at least the Cactus Wheat on tap was refreshing (right). In Cancun, the local craft brewery that set up a stand at the Moon Palace offered a much less refined wheat beer (since most of its offerings weren't much better than the only beer on tap, Corona, I won't name-shame it here). The best beer I got at the festival was by means of a craft-beer exchange. With no checked luggage, I didn't bring any bottles myself, but luckily, someone in my group let me mooch off his contribution to get some tastes in trade.
Perhaps my trip to Cabo would've been better had I taken the obligatory boat trip to
El Arco, a natural stone landmark where you can walk from the Pacific Ocean to the Sea of Cortez. You can also walk from Lover's Beach, with its calm, swimmable waves, to Divorce Beach, with its strong, crashing currents. I was able to see the craggy peninsula from the
Hotel Riu, where other staffers from the U.S. delegation were staying. From one perspective, the rocks were a serene outpost (left), but with a wider view, you could see that they were invaded by boaters, waverunners, parasailers, and even the Mexican navy, which patrolled the cape as part of G20 security (right).
Seeing the Mexican military in the ocean was about as close as I got to seeing anyone of consequence at the G20 summit in 2012. I mostly worked at the
Esperanza Resort, where President Obama stayed during the meetings, but not during the times when his motorcade arrived or departed. I tried to at least feel important, though, by dining at the resort's
Cocina del Mar restaurant, where the menus are illuminated iPad-style (top left) and where we had a table on the bluff (top right), which made my oyster & caviar, Baja lobster risotto, and chocolate mousse that much more delectable. The atmosphere in Cancun was a bit more, well, whimsical, with its piñata-colored art installations (bottom left). The food wasn't as gourmet either: Shack-like stalls with street food and picnic tables encircled a Seuss-like pathway to a festival-themed sand sculpture and the stage (bottom right). Among the many offerings, I chose empanadas, fried rice, and tacos, but I also ate some crow for suggesting the trip was a compromise of my travel style. I doubt I will plan a similar vacation any time in the near future, but in 2022, it was exactly the respite I required.
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Harney, Connor. International Journal of Cuban Studies, vol. 13, no. 1, 2021, pp. 161–63, https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.13169/intejcubastud.13.1.0161. Accessed 13 May 2022.
