by Karen Misuraca
Escaping a chillier clime and the stresses and strains of the holidays
at home, I had run away from home to Los Cabos, to play in the sun and
the sea, to fish for a striped marlin, and to play golf on the new
courses that are attracting world-wide acclaim. In the land of the jet
ski and the motor yacht, the disco and beach club, I sought a warm
Baja-style Christmas spirit, finding it in the towns, the marketplaces,
and even at the resort hotels.
Hoping to rekindle memories of Christmases past on the mainland of
Mexico, I headed for the least crowded, most truly Mexican community on
the Cape (as the bulging southern tip of Baja is called) the
250-year-old village of San José del Cabo, whose narrow streets are
shaded with ancient palms, jacaranda and mango trees. Colorfully painted
18th and 19th century buildings surround the Plaza Mijares, the town
square, where wrought-iron benches and leafy paths lie beneath
blossoming orange trees. Across the street is the beating heart of town,
the Iglesia de San José, built in 1734, one of the first in the chain of
California missions. This humble, twin-steepled church, and all the
churches in Mexico, are decorated whimsically at Christmastime, with
gold and silver tinsel, paper garlands and flowers.
A few blocks away, the Mercado Municipal is redolent of fresh produce,
fresh Dorado and tuna from the Sea of Cortez, and spicy smells from the
taco stands. Piles of oranges and mandarinas, foot-long papayas, and
sweet finger bananas are a tropical rainbow during the holidays. Baskets
of little wooden and plastic toys and wrapped candies are for the
pinatas, eagerly anticipated by every Mexican child. On sale are
firecrackers and sparklers for Ano Nuevo (New Year's Day), Barbie dolls,
the latest rock and salsa tapes, and even a few piñon branches from high
in the Sierra de la Laguna range, the monumental mountain barrier which
looms above the desert landscape of the Cape.
On a secluded beach behind Land's End, on the southern-most, last bit of
sand before the Pacific Ocean meets the Sea of Cortez, I was submerged
up to my elbows in the swimming pool, a Margarita in my hand, gazing
across the pounding surf as a red sun slid into an azure sea. A subtle
reminder that it was the Christmas season, a few strands of silvery
tinsel fluttered in a river of bougainvillea, startling magenta against
white stucco walls. I believed at that moment that the pool at the
Solmar Suites was the world's best vantage point from which to watch a
sunset, and I contemplated my good fortune to be spending Christmas and
New Year's in Baja.