Marie Javins's Blog, page 25

Nostalgia

I'm all packed and ready to leave the AirBnB I've been in here in the historic part of San Jose del Cabo. I took a crowded bus to the airport last night and rented a car for one day so I'll put my luggage in the trunk and do some last-minute sightseeing before heading over to my 3:45 flight.

There's a quirky nostalgic pining that happens on departures. Can't I live in a world of novelty forever? No. No, of course not. In time, this peripatetic life becomes laborious rather than exciting. (If you don't believe me, you haven't been reading those MariesWorldTour entries I've posted in the past.) But I feel that pining right now. Why must I return to Burbank?

My weekdays there are identical to here. I go to meetings on my laptop. But in the evenings here, I've made an effort to try a different restaurant every night. I haven't given a single thought to the impact of a steady diet of complex molé sauces and tortillas, or to the costs on each menu. I've walked every morning and every night, peering into shadows and making a reflexive list in my head of every neighborhood taco stand and food truck. (In case you think the walking offsets the eating, it doesn't really work like that, but walking IS good for you.)

I walk around sometimes in Burbank, but I've seen those corners so many times. I zone out and don't even look anymore. And I let the daily emergencies of my job get the better of me there, delaying my evening walks until suddenly it's too late to go out. I'll make an effort the next few weeks in Burbank before I migrate east for what might well be my last opportunity to WFH in this strange and wonderful and horrible way we've all been living the last 14 months.

Time for me to check out and go searching for adventure along the coast near San Jose del Cabo. Tomorrow, I can search for novelty on the shelves of Vons, or in Bob Hope Park.

Last Night in San Jose del Cabo

Thursday. I worked all day, but at lunchtime, I ran over to the bakery across the cobblestoned street. The young woman who runs it explained to me she'd opened the store three months ago. 

"I was worried about opening during these uncertain times. But then my dad told me all times are uncertain. So far it's been great." 

After work, I went outside my building to the Thursday Art Walk. Every Thursday, businesses in the old town section of San Jose del Cabo stay open late. Tourists from all the resorts descend on the town to look at art. 

Predictably, it was cool until a critical mass of drunkenness was reached, and then I got bored, picked up dinner at a BBQ truck, and headed back to the AirBnB.

 I've had dinner at a different restaurant every night so far (mostly take-out). 

Tonight (Friday) is my last night. First, I have to take the bus to the airport to pick up a rental car, then I might just get a salad, but maybe I'll choose another new spot to try instead.

The Estuary

I took a walk over to the San Jose del Cabo estuary tonight. 

Today, this marshland oasis is an important habitat for birds, but once upon a time, it was the only reliable source of water in this part of the world. 

The Spanish galleon carrying treasures from the Philippines used to come here for the water, but then the pirates decided that was a pretty good idea, so they came here too. 

Things got complicated.

Hotel to Apartment

Yesterday was supposed to be a tricky day in San Jose del Cabo. Hotel check-out time was 11 a.m. and the AirBnB check-in time was 3 p.m. I’m trying to work as normal during my journeys, the point being one can be equally effective regardless of location, so long as one has a wifi connection and a company laptop. The goal is to never have to do this: “I’ll be offline for X hours in the middle of the workday due to poor planning, oh and did I mention I’m in Mexico, sorry.”

In other words, I want to do nothing to impede my future extreme-work-from-home ambitions.

The hotel didn’t have late check-out but was happy to let me work by the pool, and the AirBnB owner promised to text me as soon as the apartment was ready.

In the end, everything went smoothly. The apartment was ready by 11:30, so after a short time working by the pool, I left my luggage in the hotel storage room until a break in my meeting schedule, and walked up the hill to the AirBnB.

The apartment wifi was much stronger than the hotel's, the view was of town rooftops instead of the garden, and there was a marvelous bakery, La Esquina San José, practically next door. The only downside was having no pool, but I couldn't really use it during the workday anyway.

“Would you like the quiche for lunch? It comes with a cookie. Or I could make you a jamon baguette,” said the baker downstairs. She also sold the same pottery I’d bought at the bakery next to the hotel, plates by a La Paz ceramicist.

I took the quiche. I’ll get the baguette next time.

The transition of work-to-work was seamless and indistinguishable on the other end. I had a meeting that ran late, which was super-annoying since I’m an hour later here (so my workday ends at 7, except when it runs to 7:45, which bugs the shit out of me since I already think the 9-hour workday is uncivilized, yes, I know theoretically one of those hours is lunch, that’s how they get you), and then I had to scramble to get to the supermarket on time. I wanted to buy fruit and yogurt for breakfast since morning trips to get breakfast tended to take an hour here between ordering and waiting and paying the bill.

I walked back from Walmart (yes, Walmart is the closest supermarket) in the dark and picked up dinner at Mi Casa, a touristy courtyard restaurant across the street from the apartment. The apartment is great, the town adorable, the wifi strong, and the town has perfect avocados and mangoes. Life is not too bad here in San Jose del Cabo.

I Have So Many Questions

Spotted in Cabo San Lucas. 

Sunday Morning Touristing

This morning, I went to the new coffee shop next door to my hotel right when it opened, got some breakfast, then trekked up to the main highway to the bus stop. I'd gone on a walking tour last night where the guide had advised me to get to the marina at Cabo San Lucas as early as I could in the morning.

10:05 isn't really early, and I'd just missed one of the "clear boat" tours, which was what I was aiming for. I went to the boat office and tried to sign up for the 11 a.m. departure, but it was sold out.

"The noon trip has room," explained a guy covered in a sandwich board.

"Come on, too hot," I said. "Mas calor." He agreed. "I'll see if I can find one leaving sooner, but if not, I'll be back," I told him.

I walked into the marina and immediately saw a water taxi driver leading two women onto a boat.

"Are you leaving now?"

He nodded. "Twenty dollars, come along."

I did, and we left immediately, stopping first for gas, then heading out to see the sights.

Extreme Work-from-Home

My Pfizers were fully baked as of yesterday, and I ran out of coffee in Burbank.

So I took a Lyft to LAX this morning to a packed terminal, caught a nearly sold out plane to Los Cabos, then found a local bus to San Jose del Cabo, where I walked a kilometer to find my hotel (which given the circumstances of lower tourism rates was masquerading as an AirBnB, but I figured it out).

And now I've visited a flea market and eaten in an open-air restaurant (Mexican food, not surprisingly, but expensive for enchiladas since this is a tourist area). Then I went looking for the ATM that doesn't charge me, and passed a shopkeeper who noted my T-shirt. "Is that a jackalope?" "Yeah." "Are you from Wyoming?" "No, I have a pet jackalope back in Los Angeles."

Found the ATM, stopped by the hippest coffee shop in town which wasn't visible from the road. I had an iced oat latte with a paper straw, because while I seem forthright, I might be ridiculous. Then went to the town marketplace, the OXXO mart, to inquire at Enterprise rental car, and finally went for a swim at the AirBnB which is actually El Encanto Inn.

I have a walking tour at 7, and tomorrow I'll catch a bus to Cabo San Lucas to get a water taxi out to see the arch.

I'm pushing the limits over the next week--I guess I'll find out if my vaccinations did the job.

Last Hike Before Burbank

Yesterday morning, I got a late start, and had to be in Arleta for my second shot at 2 pm, but there was still time for a short hike north of Ojai. Rose Valley Falls.

From Austin to Europe to Austin

Jan-March, 1986. Austin, TX. 

I was an intern at the Austin Chronicle. Writers used to come in and use the other computer in the office where I’d be typing in info for the annual music poll. Or sometimes playing the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy game. But I digress.

Ed Ward was one of those writers. There were others, but I talked to Ed more than them because as the EIC or maybe the publisher had said when I’d walked in and asked if the Chronicle took college interns: “Ed Ward went to Antioch, like you. You should talk to him.” I did. He was funny. He was opinionated–kind of a prerequisite for someone who did a lot of music coverage.

Years later, I’d hear Ed on Fresh Air. He’d sign off with “This is Ed Ward, in Berlin.”

And when I went to Berlin for a month, I thought maybe I’d write to him, but I didn’t actually do it until a few years later. Ed has left this mortal coil, but along the way he went from New York to Austin to Berlin to Montpellier and back to Austin. I am sure there are many other parts of his story. Ohio, obviously. He was at Antioch 20 years or so before I was.

So here is what I have to say about Ed. He was living by his written words, and during his lifetime, this landscape transformed from being a decent way to make a living to “Information wants to be free.” Writers needed to become adept at navigating the evolving landscape of online outlets, which seems so unfair, but that’s where we are for so many careers. Mileage varies. Some people are great at this, but many have been left behind.

In the end, Ed did just fine, put out many books to acclaim and the respect of his peers. He loved a number of good adventures, sought out a family-run hotel in Little India when he visited Jersey City. He’d take trains around Europe, though he was constantly challenged by not being very good at navigating by iPhone, seeking out local meals and interesting sights. I’d berate him to just use phone Maps and TripAdvisor, but he’d stick to his system of getting advice from local connections. I’d throw up my hands, but damned if he didn’t find some cool spots this way.

What I’ll remember most about Ed is how he supported other writers. He was like a patron in this way. He’d badger people to buy other writer’s books, including mine. He believed in me, in my work, and always supported my writing, even when we were squabbling about googling versus asking someone. He was a patron of the work of his friends.

Here is Ed’s Rolling Stone obituary.

Now For Two Weeks of Waiting

What a long strange trip it's been. 

Vaccine #2. 4/23/21. CVS, Arleta.