The wanderlust got the best of me. We’d come back from Mexico in March, the day the borders were closing. We’d hunkered down, stayed safe, and saw almost no one for months. I’d been okay with that. We’d had a couple of travel opportunities over the summer, weighed the options, and opted out. We did a driving trip over Labor Day to states that had much more lax covid rules than Massachusetts, and had negative covid tests when we returned. That travel was not as much fun as a pre-pandemic trip; there were no touristy stops along the way, no nice restaurants after a day of driving, and a weird sense that we had to bleach every surface of every hotel room.  But we did have some semblance of control, being in our own vehicle and bringing coolers with food. So how comfortable would an airplane be? 

My brother-from-another-mother Mark had to cancel his March week with us in Cabo San Lucas. His airline supply business was in turmoil after the pandemic struck; it was not a good time to abandon his troops and take a vacation. He rescheduled his week in Cabo to the end of September, and asked if we’d like to come along. At that time we had no idea what the situation would be. Could we fly in and out of Mexico? Would there be a vaccine by then? Therapeutics? Would cases be rising or falling by then? We booked refundable tickets and waited it out. 

We FaceTimed with Mark and Jan a few weeks before the trip. Jan and I agree; nothing is scarier to us than not being able to breathe, so we’d all been really careful. They’d actually done some outdoor dining; we hadn’t been to a restaurant since, well, we’d left Cabo in March. Mark asked how I felt about going to restaurants in Cabo once we were there. I told him I wouldn’t risk my life at a restaurant in New Bedford, but I’d risk my life at Nicksan and Flora Farms. Plus it would be nice to get away.

The scariest parts of the trip were actually the airplanes. You couldn’t have gotten another person on any of our flights with a shoehorn. We were masked and had face shields. The pre-flight announcement now included a threat that if they had to tell you twice to put your mask on so it covered your nose AND mouth you’d be blacklisted from the airline. Contact tracing information was required along with customs and immigration forms. But once we were in Cabo San Lucas it was like another world.

EVERYONE wore masks. Temperatures were taken before entry into ANY establishment. Shoes were disinfected at entrances and some restaurants even required a stop in an ozone chamber prior to entry. Cabo has its act together. Our resort was at 50% occupancy, and the pools had plenty of space to spread out. I was more comfortable there than in public places in Tennessee or West Virginia. 

I knew we’d have to quarantine once back in Massachusetts, so I enjoyed every restaurant meal at all of our favorites; the afore mentioned Nicksan (twice!) and Flora Farms, and Chamuyo, 7 Seas, and Mi Casa (complete with mariachi band).  

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We’re home now, had some groceries delivered, and got a (negative) covid test 5 days later to be on the safe side. And I’m looking at Viking Cruise catalogs and bucket list trips for the out years. 

And hoping for a vaccine. 

Deborah