Hey, aren’t you curious as to what I did on the rest of my trip to Cabo? I forgot to tell you! It’s really exciting stuff! So the second day kind of sucked because of this arch was blocking my view.

  

Jokes. It kind of sucked becuase I had to work all moring, but at least the view was sublime.

I sat at the hotel restaurant, Ledge, and drank coffee after coffee for the tune of four hours. Taking breaks to daydream and enjoy this beautiful light.

This not at all sugar-laden breakfast fortified me for my working remotely. I am 98% a savory breakfast person, but this was too beautiful not to order two day in a row. French toast, perfectly crisp on the outside, chewy on the inside, carmelized bananas, fresh strawberries, toasted almonds, and a drizzle of dulce de leche to complete the picture. There was syrup too, but I detest syrup, plus, I mean, really

I was missing my llittle family of man and beast, but found us all embodied as day of the dead skeletons instead. (We do not have a monkey. Yet).

 Finally, I tossed my laptop into the ocean and settled into a nice lounge chair for reading. This position quickly turned into a seat at the pool bar where I chatted up  my newest best friend, Cesar. I asked him what this structure was, just beyond the bar. I had guessed a mansion or maybe an event space for weddings. Nope! It was a restaurant, cheesily named “The Sunset da Mona Lisa.” Who came up with that? Cesar had never been, but it seemed that I would not get kidnapped just walking next door so I figured I’d better give it a try tonight. Plus, upon a quick Google search, it was toted as the 3rd best restaurant view in the world. (Who decides these things and where do I apply?)

So, I trekked out of the resort and across a parking lot. This must be either really common or not at all becauase one of the bell hops walked me up the driveway and through the employee entrance as a shortcut. Thanks guys.

Here was the view from the top of the restaurant which called itsself a champagne bar. Good call, Mona Lisa, 

because I’m a when in Rome girl til I die, I had to have a glass of Tattinger. The view was phenomenal. A handful of strangers gathered to stare into the sun together and take photos of it, not doing the natural beauty any type of justice when showing loved ones back home.

The restaurant was stunning, all white everything set nearly in the Pacific ocean on the side of a cliff. It was unbelievably romantic. (And windy). Apparently reservations are required, but I asked about getting a table anyway. For one. The host met me mid glass of champagne and told me to find him when I was done. I did just that and he led me to an INCREDIBLE table at the point of one of the cliffs. I was seated, giddy with excitement, and looked back behind me to see tables of couples. The lone lady somehow snagged the loveliest table. I was laughing with delight! Truly eating alone does not bother me, but I was touched when the waiter asked me if I’d like th other chair removed. Awww.

My insanelly perfect dinner view complete with tiny lamp and a bounty of breadsticks. The strong winds made perfect bread eating weather. I had brought a wrap, but each chair also came laden with a colorful blanket which I also wore like a slightly tanned bubushka doll. Caftans and bread forever. Life is too short. #carblife

Oh right, and there was this great fire and couch for canoodling. And a Spanish guitar player. Ok, and MAYBE the table seen below had a better spot than I did, but ONLY them. Fortified with wine, I proceeded to live blog their meal to my best friend. The guy had hired a harpist! There was LOTS of making out and champagne. I was rooting for his engagment throughout the meal and the gorgeous ambience had me considering proposing to my waiter so that someone could make use of this idyllic setting. We had such a strong connection, him worried about my single status and then carving a fish for me! It could be real…..

He brought soup instead of jewels and my balloon popped. Roasted red pepper. It was great!

Always a sucker for a Caprese salad, I had to try the house made buratta. It was smoked and not great. Check out that bread game though. Sorry, I’m not sorry. 

This shortbread cooking looking block was actually my main course – a local snapper, wrapped in a banana leaf then baked in a salt crust. Cool concept. My love, err waiter, carved the whole thing for me tableside. Ironically, the dish was lacking in flavor, particularly salt.

Bland fish and cold boiled potatoes. Not the stuff dreams are made of, but the view was tremendous enough not to care.

Being a dainty lady who ate through a few courses, I didn’t order dessert, but the waiter brought this plank full of sweet nibbles anyway. There was a shot of Mexican hot chocolate, a few cookies, berry granita, and this jelly on a stick. It was the perfect thing to kill my sweet tooth.

Now I had to trek back across the parking lot and it was pitch black and freezing. I was too afraid to use my cell phone’s flashlight for fear of luring out drug lords who were waiting in the bush to kidnap me. My Chap back home would kill me if that happened as he was already not keen on me hanging out in Mexico by my lonesome. So, I stumbled around the gravel driveway and then a parking lot, not knowing how to get back into the hotel since I hadn’t come from the main entrance. At least I’d worn flats. I headed back through the employee entrance just as I’d left and proceeded to work in the hotel so I wouldn’t have to leave. It’s working out nicely.