Todos Santos, Again

Short Version:
Hotel California is still awesome, we eat food, drink drinks, then leave Todos Santos again, with some things.

Long Version:
I've babbled enough about the Hotel California's general awesomeness already, so will restrain myself this time to mentioning only owner Debbie's particular marvelosity, and the next-level incredibleness of the top-of-the-line rooms she put us in this time round. She said it was because she loves it when people come back, but I suspect she was extra-enamored if us because the Reaper started life as a CanadPost van - maybe it helped deliver her mail before she moved to Mexico. Whatever the reason, the rooms we had were something else! Massive balconies, massive beds, shaded areas and plants galore, and all done in a truly marvellous style.

We'd heard good things about a local eatery called Miguel's, so we walked there for dinner, along uneven concrete paths with occasional steps ranging in height from 2 inches to 2 feet. Miguel himself greeted us with handshakey activity, and thought it was hilarious when Janine pulled her hand away at the last minute and told hime he was too slow*. Good food, strong margaritas, and super-friendly staff. We were touched when a gringo woman and her 8ish-year-old daughter came in to eat, and the daughter had brought an A4-sized laminated photo of her and Miguel as a present for him. He had tears in his eyes as he gave her the massivest hug, and so did we, watching from two tables over.

The walk back from Miguel's to the hotel was a minor eye-opener. On the way there we'd taken the main streets, down three blocks and then over two. On the general principle that one should wherever possible take a different route on the way back, we hit some back streets, and saw a different side of Todos Santos, Dusty dirt roads and run-down shops that cater for locals rather than tourists. We finally got an answer to what a ferreteria was**, and saw a place which billed itself as an "Ethnic Art Museum and Gallery," which had very few pieces, all dusty and all displaying a primitivism and style unlike anything we've seen elsewhere on the trip to date.

Next morning saw a return to Cafelix for breakfast, with Brasil v Portugal on the large television. Disappointing stalemate in the game, but great food and coffee. Then shopping, which was a mixed bag again - Craig and Anoushka had more successes than Janine and I. Then back to the hotel to pack and check out. It was even harder to leave than it was the first time around, but we had a plan that demanded we suck it up and hit the road***, northwards, to La Paz, and to Wal-Mart, for special things.

* = He repeated the trick on a later-arriving customer.

** = We'd assumed that it wasn't actually going to be a place that sold ferrets. It's not. It's a hardware store. Apparently the word comes from ferro, which is iron, and the most literal translation is "ironmonger"

*** = After one last futile attempt to negotiate the slightly odd guy at the big shop down to - or below - his colleague's original quoted price on the incredibly cool clay sculpture we'd been looking at. Arbol de la Vida - The Tree of Life - rendered in clay, painted matte black, this skull-festooned piece was very cool, and we totally should have bought it when we first saw it.