I am the first to admit that I take the beauty of Miami for granted, but it is only because I’ve journeyed to far more serene and ethereal locations. The hustle and bustle of city life is not for me; I prefer to be isolated from society, sun tanning on a blanket of white, pretending I am one of the hundreds of thousands of grains of sand that make up Playa el Medano in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico.

This region of Mexico appears to be as beautiful as the underwater kingdom Hans Christian Anderson describes in his tale “The Little Mermaid.” The sea shimmers like a thousand sapphires, and occasionally a humpback whale will beat its navy tail against the shiny jewels, saluting one with a wave. One of my favorite things to do in this beautiful region is to take a trip on a glass-bottom boat. Boarding the little boat you become anxious, it is puny compared to the endless Sea of Cortez. Although the waves shake you constantly, eventually they will rock you gently to sleep and the beaming sun will grant you a goodnight kiss as it radiates upon your pale cheeks.
Going out into town you will discover that every street in Cabo is lined with quaint little restaurants where Mexican Indian women toil with pride at preparing traditional dishes such as tacos al pastor, chilaquiles, tamales, and enchiladas. The fire cracks and creeps underneath the leather-like spotted brown hands of an elderly woman. Although she may be old, her eyes gleam like freshly polished jet as she folds the tortilla, her faded lips revealing a toothy childish smile.

Roaming further down the street you’ll come across little gift shops where rings with turquoise stones are being sold for only a few pesos and authentic rag dolls mimicking Mexican Folkloric ballet dancers, hand-made with elegant stitching line store shelves and entrances. Pick what you like quickly, for inside the little shops there is no air-conditioning and you may melt like a crayon in the sun if you succumb to your indecisiveness and stall within the “tienda.”

Strolling near the shore you will discover young indigenous women who approach you with eyes foggy with desperation, pleading for you to purchase one of their intricately weaved textiles. The designs usually include neon fabrics of fuchsia, orange, blue, green and black occasionally displaying floral patterns. Most of these women are penniless and live within the impoverished neighborhoods of the city. The women and men who walk along the beach do everything they can to support their young ones, who most likely will follow in their footsteps one day.

When the sun sets the sea becomes a strawberry daiquiri where dolphins swim happily and sleepy seals saunter. Guests enjoy basking underneath the miniature paper parasols which decorate the drink. My preferred time to visit would be during the winter, for although summers are indeed magical, when luxurious hotels are adorned with lush wreaths of pine or twinkling tinsel, and dazzling 10-foot tall Christmas trees tower over guests in the lobby, happiness flourishes.

Although Miami may share the same smell of sunscreen, share the same feeling of running sand through one’s fingers, and share beautiful rose-colored sunsets, Cabo San Lucas will forever be my home away from home.