It’s a tucked in little slice of hidden away, nothing more than a driveway that from the road seems like just another corner of Cabo San Lucas.
You’d never know it from the street, but it’s a slice of bungalow paradise hidden right in the heart of a city booming with night clubs, scantily clad 18 year olds here to forget their Spring vacation and street peddlers dealing everything from Denver Broncos sombreros to cocaine.
Here, tucked away in this corner, though, is sanctuary. It is nearly an entire city block owned by one family for generations. The entire quarters are surrounded by buildings. Two sides are home to what look like apartment buildings, and house the abuela (grandma/patriarch) and several sons worth of families. Another belongs to one of the brothers, his pizza shop, and some of the finest pizza in Baja. The final side belongs to Lara, an Oregonian, and her husband Martine, along with their son Zion.
In the middle is a slanted slab of concrete which serves as a playground to the plethora of Mexican children who are the offspring of these families. They kick a soccer ball against a wall as Luis, the pizza shop owner, fans the flames of the brick oven before his restaurant opens. One night it is abuela’s birthday and Martine gives me a Pacifico and the children play well into the street lights’ arrival. The sounds of nearby Cabo’s busy streets drown out. Cacti and palms of all varieties fill the holes of the canopy above. It is a private showing of true Mexican life and we are permitted front seat passes even while not needing participate any more than we feel comfortable.
We were warned that Cabo would be touristy, a “pass on through”, but we come away with a variety of experiences enough to warrant us leaving with more than fond memories of this city.