The Agony of The Feet

So you've likely by now read that Liza thinks she's a terrible vacationer and that she made a horrendous mistake the day the kids were scheduled to swim with the dolphins...

Actually, it all starts with a pair of sandals... well-worn Columbia sandals.

On Tuesday of our Cabo adventure, I got up with the sun and wandered down to the beach, fly rod in hand. I slipped off my perfectly-worn sandals and placed them carefully on the sand next to a decorative and empty 2-liter Fresca bottle--it was all I could do to not grab the empty bottle and run back to the condo with my treasure, forgoing my morning of fishing, but I opted to stick with the plan.

I fished for a bit, caught a couple of jack crevalle in the surf, and wandered back to the empty Fresca bottle only to discover my beat-up old sandals missing. My guess is that the famed Mexican Sunrise Vagrant wandered by and decided a pair of size 12 sandals--old and complete with my foot sweat--couldn't be passed up. It's OK... I got an empty Fresca bottle.

So... off to the San Jose del Cabo Mega store, where Liza sprinted in and purchased me a swank pair of flip-flops. I slipped the shoes on, and away we went.

Here's where it gets tricky... I'm not a "flip-flop" kind of guy. I've never worn 'em, don't know how to walk in 'em, and don't really care for them. So, it's no surprise that, by Thursday, my feet were pretty well shot. We spent the morning at our final timeshare presenation (Yes... $250 and a free bottle of TEQUILA!), and then went down to Cabo to the marina for some shopping, lunch and the big event with the dolphins. We wandered around the concrete sidewalk surrounding the marina for a couple of hours--Oh, my dogs were barking!

A few minutes early, we wandered into Cabo Dolphins for the kids' big day, and Liza realized we'd forgotten the certificate granting the kids' entry into the facility. Liza blames herself, but it was a mutual mistake--no biggie. We had to make a decision--we couldn't let the kids down after such build-up. So, I hustled back around the marina, on those hard, concrete sidewalks in my new sandals, climbed into the rental car, and drove 120 (kilometers per hour) the 19 miles from Cabo to San Jose, where I rushed into the condo, snatched the certificate off the counter and then drove (140 this time) back to Cabo to the dolphin joint just in time to see a porpoise tote Delaney all the way across the pool--absolutely cool.

Sadly, my feet didn't make the trip. They were dead. I got two stone bruises on the balls of both feet, followed up nicely by a matching pair of blood blisters. My feet looked like they went through a cheese grater.

Good news, though! I got to rush through LAX on Friday in a wheelchair (made it through customs in 5 minutes!).

They're a bit better now, after a few days of normal walking (seriously, what does Mexico have against friggin' carpet!?) on normal surfaces in a normal pair of shoes. My sandals? They're now play toys for the dog...

We had a great vacation... feet and all...