Aeropuerto Cabo San Lucas

Possibly it is too much to ask for air conditioning in the Cabo airport, but how about a few frakking fans?

Jesus this place is hot and muggy. The Cabo airport appears to be one of those surplus military storage huts. It is all brightly painted, with fresh tile and nice little shops, but the lack of central air conditioning is a dead giveaway that this place was just thrown up overnight. I like airports, actually. It is part of the travel process, that while never pleasant, has its own interesting aspects.

Currently, Sasha is watching Spongebob Squarepants on the TV in Spanish. She doesn’t need subtitles, since she has already seen every episode so many times that she already knows the words by heart.

"Hola! Spongebob!"
"Hola Patrick, donde esta Squidward?"

Yulia is checking out the shops to see if any of them are air conditioned, or at least have a big ice cream cooler to stand in front of. I probably wouldn’t be so interested in the place here, but we arrived three hours early for our plane, since the taxi was much faster from the hotel than planned, and there was no line for bags yet. So this is our home for a bit.

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Close examination has shown that there is a small downdraft of cool air in front of the duty free shop, and inside the the shop near the Chivas Regal is another, these are too weak to cool you down, but almost stop you from heating up further. The duty free shop offers test shots of the tequila they sell. I am most certain that their tequila is in fact defective, and that this can only be proved through several rounds of thorough testing, however I am not sure the girl pouring shots will buy into this.

An hour and a half to go until our plane boards.

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They started boarding the plane early, so we went racing across the airport to find everyone and get our stuff in time. I usually don’t worry about losing our seats, that just isn’t going to happen, but if you don’t get on in time all the overhead space is gone. And we have been waiting too damn long in this steam room of an airport for someone else to take my fucking overhead bin. I’ll shift your contents motherfucker.

Planes have air conditioning. Air conditioning is good. The drinks can’t start coming soon enough.

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The three overweight women behind  us are too drunk to talk in a normal tone, and too sober to pass out and just shut the fuck up. I really no longer have any interest in hearing about how each of them can sooo relate to the women of Sex and the City, what a terrific deal they got on the timeshare they bought at the presentation at their hotel, or how they want to pick up on the good looking male flight attendant, who is obviously gay.

It is probably these moments of true grating annoyance that make me really enjoy flying. I hate people in general, and sometimes I forget why. Times like this recharge my hatred batteries, giving me the cynicism and vitrol enough for the rest of the year. I return from my break ready to face a whole new batch of stupidity, energized and prepared to dive headlong into the problem that someone else created, and not give a crap.

One of these drunken bitches got up to let her buddy go to the restroom and poured Sangria down Yulia’s back. Class. With a "k". I hope they drank lots of Mexican water.

LAX is up next.

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Oh yeah, I forgot how miserable LAX is. John Wayne is a much better airport to use in LA, but we have our transfer here. LAX is one of those airports where you have to go outside to change from the International Terminal to Domestic. And there are no transfer instructions for visitors either, so I pity those who don’t speak English trying to catch a connecting flight. We had plenty of time and were able to get through all the Passport control, baggage claim, Customs, baggage drop off, run down the sidewalk to the next terminal, go through the next security check, and run out to the gate.

We were at Gate 31, which is in that old section that has all the good looks (and smell) of your average urban train station. There are only two places to eat, and they are actually not too bad, but pretty filthy. It was certainly better than the Cabo airport, if only because it was less than 300 degrees inside, but when you look at places like Sea-Tac, that have worked to modernize their facilities, it gets real surprising to see such a huge hub like LAX be such a disaster.

Looks like we have good weather in Seattle for our return. That would be a real change from most of our trips, and a welcome one at that. It will be nice to sleep in our own beds when we are back, and I’m sure that Oscar and the cats have missed us as well. Sasha missed them, and had adopted a couple of hermit crabs in Cabo to be her pets. We kept them in a Tupperware container with sand in the hotel, and released them on the beach this morning. The were healthy and glad to be back in their beach, but Sasha was sad to see them go. Ever the magnet for animals, Sasha has a cat-carrier bag with two meowing cats below her on the plane.  She is very concerned that they are not happy, but I figure they that will sleep on their own at some point.

Once we land, I have a towncar reserved to pick us up, it’s the same price as a shuttle or a taxi, and much more relaxing. It is also pretty convenient to not have to bother your friends to come and get you.

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I think we will probably do Cabo again at some point. I think it would be good if we could find a year to do a driving vacation, as Yulia still hates flying and it is no fun putting her through it. But a two hour hop like this is a lot easier than the 7+ to Europe, or the 12 to Moscow.

We’ll see. Planning begins now.

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  1. "I hate people in general, and sometimes I forget why. Times like this
    recharge my hatred batteries, giving me the cynicism and vitrol enough
    for the rest of the year."Ah, there\’s the Mark we all know and love. Glad to see you\’re recharged there.

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