More "tails" from Todos Santos

Our time in Todos Santos continues to flow seamlessly.  That niggling guilt  I initially experienced for being unproductive has come and gone.   Frank and I have succumbed to our natural rhythms, eating when we’re hungry, allowing the soothing surf to lull us to sleep when we’re tired, and getting up with the sun each morning (with the help of a strong cup of locally roasted java).   The only numbers we go by down here are how many shrimp tacos we snarf down for lunch or how many whales we spot in a day (more about that marvelous spectacle later).     

I am slowly falling in love with Todos Santos for its unique colonial charm and unpretentious authenticity.  Even though tourism is a big part of the economy, the town has nothing to prove and is more like the ‘anti-Cabo’.    No Senor Frog or Cabo Wabo here.  Rather than the frenetic activity and crass commercialism of a tourist town, there is a more a relaxed warmth.  People take the time to visit.   At La Esquina, a popular eatery which has become our favorite hang out, the local ex-pats are friendly and quite chatty.  There is Dave, a soon to be refugee from Los Angeles, who is planning his escape from traffic jams and a frenetic pace he finds intolerable.  He is having a house built so that he can live down here for seven months out of the year.    “Everything you need is right here,” he tells us, “I don’t need excitement, I’ve had enough of that to last me a lifetime.”    Dave points out that most of the ex-pats who flock to Todos Santos are on the south side of sixty, either retired or semi-retired-- in search of a more conscious and simpler way of life.   If you look around the restaurant, you do see a lot of grey hair—I’m betting most of the grizzled customers could probably tell you what they were doing when President Kennedy was shot. 

Anita from Vancouver British Columbia and her Mexicano husband are also building a home off the grid which is completely dependent on solar power.  A day without sunshine means a half day without power.  “I hate cloudy days” she grumbles.  But the unpredictable weather is a price Anita is quite willing to pay in exchange for the sense of community she finds here.   She plans to apply for permanent resident status as soon as the immigration laws allow.     When asked if she won’t miss her family and friends from home, it turns out that one of her daughters lives in Cancun and two of her brothers live in the Los Cabos area.    “My whole family will be here for Christmas,” she says happily. 

Abel, one of the local entrepreneurs who originally hails from Jalisco, Mexico,  tells me that he came here five years ago expecting Todos Santos to be a real city—instead he found a laid back little pueblo where there are no drugs (maybe some pot here and there) and little crime.   “You don’t have to lock your doors at night” he assures me in Spanish.

Todos Santos seems to attract individuals in search of serenity, simplicity, and a sense of community with maybe a little surfing thrown in.  We’ve heard many people mention the innate spirituality of the place where yoga, meditation, healers, and Tai Chi classes abound.  On Sundays, you have a choice of guided meditation or Catholic Mass at the Mision de Santa Rosa de las Palmas.

Personally, I’ve been drawing my spiritual sustenance from the ocean.  To be in the presence of this vast body of water is to be touched with a sense of the sacred.   For our Sunday “service”, Frank and I are drawn to a beach near town where we are treated to our first heart stopping sight of  humpback whales joyously leaping and cavorting in a stunning display of acrobatics.   Sea world could not have come up with a more magical show than the performance we are privileged to witness on this beautiful afternoon.   When one of the huge creatures explodes nose first out of the water as if shot from a canon, we hold our breath the second before its massive form arches and comes crashing down with a belly flop of epic proportion.   At one point, three of the whales gracefully vault out of the water, one by one, in what looks like a beautifully choreographed ballet.  It is an unforgettable experience which brings a sense of awe to my heart and tears to my eyes. 

Just before sunset, as if to remind me of the infinite abundance of the Universe, I spot a turtle drifting in the  clear turquoise waves and miracle of miracles-- yet another humpback emphatically slapping the water with its enormous flute.  Can it get any better?  Stay tuned for more “tails” from el Pueblo Magico.