(Mexico)...I was in the Cabo San Lucas area of Baja California, Mexico, last week. I was staying at a property called the Pueblo Bonito Pacifica Holistic Resort & Spa, which specializes in health and — that new, hideous word — wellness, which is just as well, for I think anyone under the influence of anything would not be able to pronounce its name correctly, or at all, to taxi drivers. It is beautiful spot and well away from the Los Cabos development.
Indeed, to all sides is wilderness, either the beach and Pacific Ocean, quite rough hereabouts, or scrub land of cacti, dunes and desert plants. Popping over the top of the dunes I found myself alone in a haven of wildlife. I doubt if few guests left the delights of the hotel’s gardens, pools, meditation labyrinth, fire pits and cool public spaces (and why should they), but anyone enjoying nature will be pleasantly surprised. I saw three types of woodpecker — Gila, Ladder-backed and Gilded flicker — California gnatcatcher, California quail, Verdin, Grey thrasher (a Bajan endemic), Western scrub-jay, a stunning Vermilion flycatcher and White-winged dove. I also saw several hares, many lizards and even a coyote lopping over into the bush.
Early every morning I went for a walk along the dusty roads that I imagine eventually led to the lighthouse that I could see on the hill. Trucks crammed with workers were the only things to share my path, It was fun to drop down into dry stream beds, with a look at the heavens first to make sure it was not going to rain, and on occasion, a house would come into view. One was owned by Californians — if a car registration was a clue — with a stable and someone getting ready to mop down the stallions after first having a cigarette.
On the Wednesday, the hotel (http://www.pueblobonitopacifica.com) group I was with supposedly was to go on a boat trip to see a colony of sea lions and El Arco, the tourist spot’s famous natural stone arch, but with a tropical storm brewing somewhere off to sea (it did not hit land while I was there, but as I write the far more serious Hurricane John is off the coast of Acapulco and threatening to bear down on Baja) the excursion was cancelled. I did see the arch, albeit extremely distantly, as I headed to the airport on my long way home. So, no sea lions and no arch.
We were asked what we might like to do with our spare afternoon, and I mentioned the possibility of visiting Todos Santos, a small town up the Pacific coast. Most others elected shopping, but after a few minutes I was handed a set of keys and started driving up the narrow highway, slowing down at a clearly signed Curva Peligroso to pass an accident and a waving policeman. Very quickly any urbanisation is left behind, and the desert starts again.
Todos Santos is about 75 kilometres to the north. I parked by the church and wandered around. There are some pleasant art galleries and shops, as well as the Hotel California, reputedly the inspiration for an Eagles song that I have never liked. Things are dusty here, too, and it does not take long to feel you are in Mexico, a feeling that is rarely experienced in Cabos San Lucas (I did walk over the hill from the Pacifica to enter the local’s area of Cabos, but there is little there, other than lazy dogs lying in roads, cars swerving around them, minute stores calling themselves supermercados and houses in various states of being).
Back in Todos Santos (http://www.todossantosinn.com), I visited the majestic, eight-room Inn at Todos Santos and walked around its tranquil courtyards. I also bought some postcards, and it was then that I saw one of a beautiful beach. I asked where it was and was given directions, which on my second attempt I found. On a dusty road leading to La Chacorra, I drove slowly around large stones and through a tunnel of bamboo that brushed the car above and to both sides. I had to double back, thus driving through the bamboo again (which I liked), before taking a left turn that ended at two small lodgings.
 From there I walked along a sandy path between two fences and uncovered a scene rather like the moment in the film Y Tu Mama También, when the three travellers wake up in the morning to find their perfect beach. I have no idea what the branches in the above photograph would be used for, possibly to thatch a house or to build one. The beach was not as perfect as the one in the film, but not too far behind. To the left was a small lake that almost reached the sea but did not brooch the last small dune. As I walked towards a flock of Brown pelicans, I saw a solitary rowing boat beach itself.