For Her, joy is a luxurious Todos Santos getaway…
{get pampered}
{go paddling}
for Him, joy means roughing it »»»
Story & Photos by
Colleen & Craig LIGIBEL
My wife and I enjoy the perfect marriage; we spend at least a month each year doing our own thing. While I brave eight-foot Gulf Stream seas in my 43’ sailboat Wind’s End, she flies firstclass to meet me at our ultimate destination. While I rub some feeling into my frozen toes at the foot of Kilimanjaro’s Furtwangler Glacier, Colleen indulges herself with a hot rock massage at a four-star resort 4,000 miles away. And while I slog through the jungles of Guatemala in search of Mayan ruins, she goes on a shopping spree in Paris in search of jewels of her own. It’s a formula that has worked to perfection for almost 30 years.
TEMPTING FATE, HOWEVER, I
suggested that we try something different
this year. Why not base in Todos Santos?
Colleen could relax in the style to which she
has become accustomed, while I go
kayaking in the nearby Sea of Cortez. It
would be a win-win for both of us.
«WHAT MY HUSBAND CRAIG SAYS
is true…up to a point. I don’t like to sweat
or eat anything out of a can. I like my
bathwater warm and my wine cool.
But I’m not a total wuss. I have slept
in a 16-pole teepee on the banks of
the Missouri River, and there was that
time we almost plunged down a 1,500
foot cliff while hunting mushrooms in
Catalonia. But camping out is definitely
not my thing, so I jumped at the chance to
catch up on my pamper-quotient while my
erstwhile husband goes off on another one
of his testosterone-infused adventures. Let
the pampering begin!»
To handle the logistics of the trip,
we enlisted the help of Todos Santos
outfitter Sergio Jauregui and his
wife Bryan who called upon their
circle of Todos Santos and La Paz
friends to put it all together.
Sergio was more than willing to
turn over the day-to-day operations
of his company, Todos Santos
Eco-Adventures, to his father and
mother while Bryan saw in Colleen a kindred
soul with whom she could share some of her
special Todos Santos relaxation secrets.
Colleen and I had been to Todos Santos
many times before. We were initially lured
to the sleepy oasis by the promise of a
gourmet meal at Ezio and Paula Colombo’s
Café Santa Fe Restaurant, not to mention
the opportunity to escape the hustle and
bustle of touristy Cabo San Lucas, a scant 45
miles south. We’ve come back time and
again just to wander the dusty streets, enjoy
a frosty Pacifico in the signature Hotel California
(contrary to popular legend, the
Eagles never have stayed there) and watch
the spectacle of the gray whales as they
cavort no more than 100 yards off the
sugar-sand beach.
We first met Sergio and Bryan when I
put together a hiking expedition to the top
of Al Picacho, the Sierra de Laguna’s
highest peak, two years ago. But that’s
another story. Since then, we have become
internet friends and have vowed to get
together for more adventure.
«Enough, already. I want to check into
our hotel and line up my massage, facial and
shopping! You boys can drink your tequila
and smoke your cigars under the stars all you
want. Just remember you’ll be crawling into a
hard sleeping bag where your only companions
will be scorpions and snakes! Bryan and
I have a date with the masseuse!»
The “headquarters” for our adventure,
Posada La Poza, is as much a work of art
as it is a boutique hotel. The six-year-old
creation of retired Swiss banker Juerg
Weisendanger and his Czech artist wife,
Libusche, sits on four acres of lush
tropical grounds less than 100 yards from
the pounding Pacific surf. La Poza’s seven
rooms and suites are simply furnished
and reflect Libusche’s impeccable taste.
Each offers a stunning view of the twoacre
lagoon, a freshwater sanctuary for
more than 50 species of birds. Binoculars
and birding books are standard issue.
There are no televisions or phones in the
rooms, although there is internet access in
the spacious lobby. Innkeeper Juerg
explains his philosophy this way: “People
come here to get away. We did have one
guest who left after two days. He just
couldn’t cope with the solitude and peace
of the place.” In the capable hands of
Lenka Heroldora, a 25-year-old hospitality
intern from Prague, we enjoyed a
capable host providing us a fountain of
information about the hotel and the area.
Upon arrival at La Poza, we are offered a
welcoming glass of lemonade and promptly
shown to our well-appointed room on the
second floor of a burnt orange-colored
adobe casita. A classical CD plays softly over
the stereo. The décor is a mixture of
function and traditional Mexican color.
Whimsical chenille “drapes” hang from the
entrance to the bathroom. A bowl of fruit is
served as both a centerpiece on our dresser
and a delicious work of art that we will
devour as our stay lengthens. The minifridge
is ice-cold and well-stocked.
«La Poza is my kind of place. No way
for anybody to bother me here. I unpack
quickly while Craig begins to re-pack his
camping gear. What does a grown man
need with three pairs of shorts, two sets
of long underwear and a Hawaiian shirt
for a two-day kayak trip? You’d think he
was paddling to Panama! He stuffs it all
into three dry-bags, including two bottles
of wine and a fifth of tequila.»
Our adventure together begins with a
couple’s activity, a regional cooking class
hosted by Danny La Mote, the Hotel California’s
acclaimed French-trained chef.
Here is a chance for both of us to pamper
our palate! We climb into Sergio’s 8-
passenger Suburban and make our way
through town into a newly-developed residential
area. The class is hosted in the
home of Sylvia St. Clair, a local architect.
Her house is unique; there isn’t a square
wall in the place and the well-appointed
kitchen opens onto a spacious patio with a
view of the Sierra La Laguna Mountains.
Class is already in session and five pairs of
student chefs slice, sautée and stir a variety of
local ingredients under the watchful eye of Chef
Danny. Colleen and I are assigned the task of
preparing the first course, a salad of blanched
sea scallops, infused with curry oil and nested in
a bowl of grilled zucchini strips. The group is
mostly locals; American ex-pats who have
found nirvana in Todos Santos’ easy lifestyle and
affordable living. We trade banter with our newfound
friends. One is a retired radiologist who is
making a second career out of marketing Hotel
California tequila. Another is a surfer who came
for “weed and waves” in the 60’s and never left.
A couple who had chucked it all in California to
open a small retail store in Todos Santos is
engrossed in preparing their lamb dish. It is an
eclectic mix of ages, attitudes and affectations.
Chef Danny clucks like a mother hen
over each pair of would-be chefs. “Don’t
bruise the scallops…ooops…don’t throw
out that pan…that’s the sauce for the
duck…sauté that lamb for 10 minutes, then
let it simmer for 30 minutes…that sauce
could be overpowering…ease up on the
poblano pepper…watch it…that’s two
ounces of tequila for the sauce…not for
you!” Under his watchful direction, everyone
works hard to please Danny and before we
know it, dinner is served! We conclude the
culinary festivities with shots of Hotel California
tequila accompanied by an avocado
milkshake. Then, it is off into the night and
back to La Poza, where a million stars dance
to the rumble of the waves.
COLLEEN GETS PAMPERED…
Rising slowly and not too early, I curl up
in my robe with a steaming cup of coffee to
watch the day unfold before me. Fed by
several mountain streams, the lagoon is
nearly full and at this point, it has taken
over some of La Poza’s grounds. The last
time I was here, I saw the sand dam
between the lagoon and the beach break
and the whole lagoon emptied in less than
15 minutes. Juerg hopes the same thing will
happen soon. I watch a flock of ducks settle
into the reeds. The surf beats a steady if
somewhat unnerving cadence.
I stroll down for breakfast at half past
nine and find myself alone in the sunlit
dining room. Lenka takes my order and we
talk about my day. My massage is
scheduled for 4:00 PM that afternoon and
before that, I plan to stroll the beach, have
lunch at the hotel, write some postcards
and finish a book I’ve been wrestling with
for a week; a perfect day of relaxation with
nothing too strenuous, capped off with a
late dinner at La Poza.
Poodling at its best!
After breakfast, I pick
my way to the beach,
where the sand is soft but
the surf is dangerous, even
deadly. There are only a few
beaches on the Pacific side
where it is safe to swim. The waves are
intense; the drop-off is steep and the
undertow very strong. Close by, surfing
nirvana can be experienced at the worldclass
surf breaks of Los Cerritos, San Pedrito
and La Pastora. I lose myself in the solitude.
I am alone on the beach and find my toes
pushed into the sand, my spirit luxuriating
in the dichotomy of solitude and surf.
Lenka has anticipated my return for
lunch; there is a cool glass of crisp chardonnay
at my place-setting. I order the famous
tortilla soup. Its rich, creamy texture does
not disappoint. Another glass of chard? Why
not? I deserve it…
My masseuse arrives at
4PM and having two
options for the treatment,
either on the patio of my
room or poolside, I opt for
poolside. La Poza utilizes a
number of massage therapists,
some local, some from as
far away as La Paz. Maria Gallardo
made the 30-mile journey from La Paz
and she begins with a standard massage,
followed by a hot rock massage, body
peeling and exfoliation with red wine. At
$65, I was pleasantly surprised by the cost
for my massage as I had recently experienced
the ultimate in luxury at The One
and Only Palmilla’s Spa. There, basic
massages start at $140 and can go as high
as $250. The cares of the day (what cares?)
floated away as Maria worked the kinks
out of my 50+ year-old-body with her
supple fingers. We all know being
pampered can be hard work.
Before sunset, after
a refreshing dip in the
salt water pool and
a tall glass of
lemonade, I
watch the birds
conduct their
mating rituals
far overhead. A
luxuriating
shower, a short
nap and I’m ready
for dinner. I miss the
sunset, but vow to do
better tomorrow.
Juerg and Libusche have returned
from their brief vacation and both are on
hand to greet me as I stroll into dinner. Two
other couples have arrived and the small
room is alive with chatter. I select the lamb
chops, grilled to perfection. Satiated, I
meander back to my room, pausing to take
in the ambiance of the place; subtle lighting
highlights the foliage and a million stars
provide a brilliant canopy overhead. The
Pacific thunders on in the distance as I put
on my terrycloth robe, select a CD, sip some
herbal tea and become lost in my thoughts.
The next morning I find no reason to
move too quickly. Today is about a short
drive into town, some shopping and lunch.
Having been admirers of this California
artist for several years, I head straight for
Jill Logan’s Studio on Todos Santos’ main
drag. Jill first came to Todos Santos in 1995
alone to paint and write. Within
two weeks she wanted
to go home, but she hung
in and soon it felt like
home. In June 1998,
Jill returned to
Todos Santos to
live permanently
and opened her
gallery, Galería
Logan. Using
acrylic and oil, Jill
depicts European
hillsides, trees,
women as angels, and
still lifes in tropical environments.
She infuses strong
soul energy into her work, expressed
through color and movement. After visiting
with Jill, I end up commissioning an
original painting of three palm trees, very
reminiscent both of my stay in Todos Santos
and of the three palm trees that stand
sentinel over our beach house in Florida.
When completed, Jill will ship the painting
directly to us in Florida.
To celebrate my purchase, I decide on
lunch at the Hotel California bar where I
enjoyed perhaps the most succulent mahimahi
sandwich I have ever had. It was
grilled to perfection with just a touch of
wasabi sauce. I look for Danny to complement
him, but he is working his magic in
the kitchen and cannot be disturbed. Oh,
did I forget to mention that the margaritas
are outstanding? Frothy cold, a hint of salt,
and the rich taste of Hotel California
tequila. Craig, eat your heart out! I’ll have
another, please.
After lunch, it is back to La Poza to get
ready for a drum circle on the beach that
Bryan and her friends set up. One must
pamper the soul as well as the body!
Not rhythmically inclined, I approached
this experience with some trepidation.
Bryan assures me the ritual, started by local
restaurateur and “reformed lawyer”, Iker
Algorri, is all in good fun. Usually, the
group meets at Iker’s restaurant, Café
Brown on Thursdays. Today they plan a
special sunset gathering in my honor. As
we pull out of the hotel’s parking lot, we
see a cloud of dust approaching us from the East. The blur becomes a white
Suburban with a grinning Sergio at the
wheel. Dressed in our drumming finery, we
slow to exchange greetings on the narrow
road. Craig and Sergio appear sunburned
and scrubby, but satisfied. They promise to
clean up as best they can and meet us on the
beach before sunset.
About twenty people, mostly American
ex-pats, join us. Iker has brought a large
pitcher of margaritas, which he sets in the
center of the circle. I’m introduced to
everyone and quickly show my lack of
musical ability as Iker tries to teach me how
to properly strike first a bongo, then a
marimba and then, ultimately, a wood
block. I am a slow learner but I certainly
enjoy the margaritas. Isabel settles into her
beach chair and starts playing. The crowd is
a mixture of old and young drummers, both
experienced and novice. Each has brought
his or her special instrument. Iker plays a
snare drum while three others beat enthusiastically
on large congas. One woman, alone
with her thoughts, dances towards the surf
as if almost in a trance.
Drum circles have a curious history,
going back thousands of years. Many credit
them with healing powers. The modern
drum circle, some say, can be traced to
Grateful Dead percussionist and musicologist
Mickey Hart. There are more than 200
web sites dedicated to drum circles, some
offering drum circle clothing and gear.
Drum circle “chapters” exist all over the
world. With Iker taking the lead, the group
beats a steady rhythm. First slow and then
fast in a melodic, earthy kind of way. The
surf provides an apt counterpoint. A whale
and her calf spout not more than a hundred
yards offshore. The evening breeze pushes
the sweet ocean spray onto our faces. Almost
on cue, a flock of more than 100 pelicans
form a perfect V and fly directly overhead.
The drumming stops and everyone stares in
awe at the spectacle.
Whatever cares anyone brought to the
circle soon dissipated by the combination of
the circle, the elements and, of course, the
margaritas. I am consumed by the circle
when Craig and Sergio finally show up.
Time stands still and I come to the realization
that here, on the beach with these 20
strangers, I have found the ultimate in
spiritual pampering. It is an experience I
will not soon forget.
Dinner is a raucous affair—Sergio and
Bryan join us at El Gusto. Lenka and Juerg
provide impeccable service and the recollections
about our two very different
“adventures” flow as liberally as the wine.
Craig swears that his camp-side dinner with
Sergio and his night under the stars was one
of the ten best things he has ever done,
ringtail cats not withstanding. I counter
with tales of my poolside massage and the
feeling of total relaxation I get every time I
walk the grounds of La Poza. For him, the
chocolate clams are the ultimate, for me, it
was the mahi-mahi sandwich—a culinary
Yin and Yang.
CRAIG GOES PADDLING…
Up with the birds early, I enjoy a
quick
breakfast while Colleen
exercises the inside
of her eyelids.
Sergio shows up promptly at
7:30.
We have about an hour’s drive to
La
Paz, where we pick up our rented
kayaks.
Sergio is a diminutive ball of
Mexican
energy. A former engineer,
Sergio has been
a clown, a kayak guide
and a mountain
expedition leader. His company offers a
number of guided
hiking trips around the
Todos Santos
area. Our trip to the Sea of
Cortez will
provide him a chance to see old
friends
and revisit familiar places. It was on
one
such trip that he met and fell in love
with Bryan, a loquacious Louisiana native
whose business dictates numerous trips to
China each year. Talk about a contrast
in cultures!
Driving through La Paz is somehow
very reassuring. Here is a real Mexican
town with prosperous merchants, clean
open air markets and not many touristas.
Even the waterfront seems refined with
only a few national chains to tempt Spring
Breakers. Not at all like Cabo or Cozumel
and not a beer chugging contest to be
found! La Paz, with a population of about
250,000, is the capital of Baja California Sur
and plays host to a number of local industries,
including eco-tourism, mining,
shipping, agriculture and fishing. During
the 1800’s, La Paz was the black pearl
capital of Mexico.
As we pull up in front of Baja Outdoor
Activities waterfront office, we are warmly
greeted by owner Ben Gillam, an affable,
barrel-chested Welshman who has built
his company into one of La Paz’s most
successful outfitters. Sergio worked for
Ben for six years. Ben and his wife
Alejandro have run Baja Outdoor Adventures
since 1994 and figure they outfit
around 700 clients annually.
“We do the usual to survive around
here…whale watching…snorkeling…halfday
trips…but our bread and butter is the
fully-supported four and eight-day sea
kayaking expeditions,” explains Ben. Costs
range from $625-1,000 USD, depending on
type and length of trip. BOA is unique
among Espíritu Santo outfitters in that
most of their longer trips involve camping
at a different location every night. Other
outfitters find it more convenient to set up
a base camp and have kayakers return to
the same spot each day. We arrange to rent
two single ocean kayaks from Ben and to
utilize one of his pangas to transport us to
a point midway up the rugged Espíritu
Santo coast.
Upon reaching the put-in on the Sea of
Cortez at last, we offload 100 pounds of
gear in short order. The beach at Playa
Tecolote is a mixture of palapas, laid-back
restaurants and pangas. Tourists mingle
with RV’ers who have settled in for the
duration. One of Ben’s captains, Mario,
welcomes us with a 30’ launch. Powered by
two brand-new 200 HP 4-strokes, it glides
over the azure water at 30 MPH. Our destination
is a scant 10 miles away, the beach at
Candelero, one of the almost two dozen
perfectly shaped bays that ring the island
and provide a paddling paradise for novice
and experienced kayakers alike.
All of the islands in the Sea of Cortez
are now under UNESCO protection as part
of the World Heritage Bio-Reserve. The
Espíritu Santo Island group, which borders
the southeastern portion of the Bay of La
Paz, is considered the crown jewels. The
diving, snorkeling, and kayaking are second
to none. The island of Espíritu Santo is a
23,000-acre ecological wonder. It is home to a host of aquatic and animal species,
including the black-tailed jack rabbit and
two species of snakes found nowhere else in
the world. The waters around the island
support coral reefs, resident colonies of sea
lions and 500 species of fish. In 2003, the
Mexican Government acquired the island
from the local cooperative.
At Candelero, we load our kayaks and
paddle south, alone with our thoughts and
the sky blue water. Visibility in the water is
excellent. After an easy hour of paddling
passing over small patches of coral, we pull
into a secluded cove for lunch. Sergio’s little
company is truly a family affair I note as we
feast on cheese quesadillas Sergio’s mother
prepared the night before.
The geology of Espíritu Santo is a
reflection of the region; dramatic volcanic
formations that plunge into the sea and red
and black lava flows frozen in time.
Gigantic boulders litter the ocean floor and
each cove presents a new face of the island.
Manta rays jump far off and a pair of sea
lions swim up to us to play. Flying fish spurt
ahead of our kayaks. An Olive Riddley
turtle pokes his head above the water and
recognizing we pose no threat to him,
swims effortlessly away. We paddle easily
with Sergio forging ahead and me hanging
back to take photos.
In the late afternoon, sliding past a
dramatic rock outcropping, we come
abreast of a dilapidated fisherman’s camp
and arrive at our home for the night, Playa
Corralito. The cove is pristine with small
dunes that provide a windbreak. Wispy
grasses lead to the mountains. The water is
warm and crystal clear. Gear is unpacked,
tents are set and we stretch out for a little
nap. At sunset, the cliffs beckon us to snap
some dramatic early-evening images.
Sergio proves himself an accomplished
campfire chef as he prepares a feast of “rajas
con queso” (chicken, red peppers and
cheese) with tequila and cigars for dessert.
Darkness comes early on the island. In the
distance, fishermen are returning to the
camp on the north side of the bay. Sergio
entertains us with stories about Mayan
legends as well as fables about the constellations.
The stars are phenomenal - the Milky
Way so bright you could eat it with a spoon.
In an open-air planetarium, Orion rises in the east. The temperature is cool but not
chilly. There are no bugs, no competing
lights and no sound other than the lap, lap,
lap of the waves. After more tequila, I find
my way to my tent and settle in for the night.
In the middle of the night, I sit up in my
tent bolt upright. I have company. Not the
blonde, 24-year-old Playboy centerfold
kind. Out comes a blood curdling cry, not
knowing who or what my “company” is. I
grab a flashlight and shine it in the
direction of the noise. It’s a ringtail cat, all
eyes and ears and an enormous, fluffy tail,
trapped between the rain cover and the tent
itself. The little critter stares back at me like
the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland.
With a kick of my foot, it scampers away up
the dunes. Sergio pokes his head into my
tent and is laughing uncontrollably. “I told
you I would find you a woman on this
island,” he jokes. “I just didn’t specify the
age or the type!” After a good laugh
together, I drift fitfully back to sleep.
Dawn comes early on the island. After
that first cup of Mexican coffee, all is right
with my world. Some clouds obscure the
rising sun, and it looks for a while that we
may have to fight some rain and wind on
our six-mile trip back to the mainland. A
gentle wind is at our back as we head out.
We haven’t seen any other kayakers since we
started, and this was still the case as we
make our way south. A few fishing boats
pass us on the horizon, but other than that,
we are alone in the sea.
At about 11:00 AM, we put in at Punta
Lupona and rest in preparation for our
paddle to the mainland. 90 minutes of
paddling later, we are a stone’s throw from
land. We pass one couple in single kayaks
headed to the island. They tell us they are
on a five-day circumnavigation. We wish
them well and conjecture that their little
kayaks couldn’t possibly contain much
more than the bare necessities. Kayaking in
style with Sergio spoils one for more
spartan journeys.
We heft the kayaks onto the top of
Sergio’s Explorer, load our gear, and settle
in at the Tecolote restaurant for a lunch of
chocolate clams and Pacificos. The clams
take their name from the color of their dark
brown shells. They are fist-sized, sweet and
are a local delicacy. After returning our
kayaks to BOA, we stop at the local gelato
store for a cactus flower sorbet. It’s a perfect
ending to a perfect trip—Colleen couldn’t
possibly have had as much fun!
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