More stories from Cabo?
Here you go.
You would think they would have rice water in Mexico, wouldn’t you? Ron loves the stuff. But we didn’t see it anywhere in the vast reaches of the Dining Hall at the luxury hotel. So Ron asked a waiter for some “horchata,” as it’s called around here by the Mexican-Americans in our town (who obviously hail from a different part of Mexico than our Baja waiter, as you will see in a minute). The waiter didn’t speak much English, but his eyes lit up and he ran off, returning moments later with a fork (horqulla?). Ron never did find any horchata.
If there was no horchata, there sure was pork. We wonder if pigs thrive in areas covered in cactus. Cabo was a pork haven. I never saw so many versions of pork as they had at the Cabo Dining Hall. They provided sandwich fixings for lunch every day, but rather than offering a variety of lunch meats, they offered a variety of pork. Ham. Honey Ham. Smoked Ham. Canadian Bacon. Bacon. Ham that tastes like turkey. Ham that tastes like tuna fish. Ham that tastes like tofu. Ham pressed into the shape of cauliflower. No wonder the staff at the luxury hotel are all young. Everyone down there dies of a ham heart attack before they hit 40 from eating all that pig.