It was May of my senior year in college when I found out I was going to Los Cabos for the first time. A publisher in my hometown dreamed up a magazine called Cabo Living and hired me -- with my stockpile of youthful ambition -- to be the editor. All I really knew about Cabo was that Debbie Hunt, the dating-service-crazed redhead in Cameron Crowe's movie, Singles (1992), buys a plane ticket to Cabo, meets an enticing divorcé when she lands, he likes her earrings, they fall in love, and she plans to move there with him if she can get a job at the local TV station. (Aside: There is no local TV station in Cabo, Cameron Crowe.)
I had nothing in common with Debbie Hunt -- I was a suburban-bred Kansan barely out of school and she was a grunge-era Seattleite making her way in the world -- but I suddenly considered her a kindred spirit. I had reached near Hollywood status because I was going to Cabo, this glamorous and mysterious beachy paradise someone was paying me to explore.
My friend, India, calls Los Cabos "a real cooker," by which she means all experiences here are amplified. India's theory -- as I interpret it -- is that because Los Cabos is surrounded by water on three sides, desert moonscape all around, and mountains to the north, energy in general has nowhere to diffuse, so it swirls around Baja's tip, making things happen with extra gusto. Couples fall in love, couples separate, old friends reunite, careers take off, careers tank, people evolve, deep friendships take root, healing occurs, and Debbie Hunt meets her sugar daddy, all in the blink of an eye.
Having begun my own career, experienced moments I still can't believe, and met my beau for life (not to mention a few soul sisters) in Los Cabos, I think India may be right. Above all, its breathtaking landscape, luxurious resorts, delectable restaurants, opulent real estate, and ceaseless adventure make Los Cabos a real cooker.
The funny thing about Baja, though, is that everyone believes his or her area is the peninsula's seat of, well, everything. In my travels, I've heard countless declarations from "best sunset" to "best marlin fishing" and "best surf break" to "best taco" in La Paz, San Felipe, Ensenada, Loreto, and more. And you could drink for weeks if you tried downing every "best margarita in Baja." Like a true Land's Endophile, for a short time, I believed Los Cabos represented the best of Baja, mostly for its magical "cooker" aspect, and because I felt that no other place could hold all the promise and paradox so ubiquitous at Baja's tip.
A little exploring early on proved me -- and everyone else who swears his peninsular plot is the best ever -- completely wrong. No matter where I go in Baja, I meet people with their own unique "cooker" stories, elaborate and unexpected tales of how they ended up here, how they realized their life's dream, how they fell in love, how they overcame unbelievable obstacles. Baja -- from top to bottom -- is brimming with the stuff of legends: horticulturist turned flamenco guitarist, near-death cancer patient turned vibrant survivor, high school dropout turned real estate mogul, former drug trafficker turned yogi, off-road racer turned businessman, ski filmmaker turned land developer, pregnant teenager turned CEO, Olympic coach turned surf junkie, covert government agent turned fisherman, and more.
Beyond all the beautiful things to do and see in Baja -- and there are many, as you'll find if you read on -- the most important thing to do in Baja is be. Travel itineraries and the suggestions I provide in this guide are useful, but please be open to the subtle currents of life, and if you feel the sudden urge to turn right instead of left, walk instead of drive, say "gracias" instead of "thank you," do it. When you vacation in a "real cooker" like Baja, even the subtlest currents may be leading you to the stuff of legends. I think Debbie Hunt would vouch for that.
