Our Life


BeachWe returned from an idyllic 5 days on the beach via a series of humiliating airport security encounters to find a post election political shift. I’d like to hope this indicates an end to war, tyranny and greed.

Meanwhile, the threat levels were high and airport security invasive. We took two flights down and two back. Some of the flights served pretzels, peanuts being too dangerous. We raced from one end of the airport to the other, relying on the kind assistance of airport volunteers to find our way, stood in lines, and when time allowed, paid too much for potato chips and cold salads which we ate with plastic forks from their plastic containers.

The Transportation Security Administration was successful in protecting the rest of the passengers from my face cream and sunscreen by removing it from my bag. Later, after I checked my bag, they opened it, discarded my ‘approved’ padlock and disassembled my pocket knife.

The highlight of our airport odyssey was reading the election coverage over a beer in Phoenix. And then we boarded our flight to find pretzel crumbs on the seat. While I found this a bit disgusting, I was hopeful this meant we’d be getting something to eat. Yes, air travel has become a depressing and nerve-racking activity.

Other than that, we had a great trip. The accommodations at Cabo Pulmo were extraordinary and we were in good company with plenty of time to enjoy it. The high humidity rendered the loss of my face cream insignificant. The group was bent on having a good time and happily shared their sunscreen and food.

The six of us had two casitas with full kitchens. I made black beans and rice and Heidi whipped up a tasty frittata with fried potatoes. The ocean was clean and well stocked with tropical fish. We found the free-ranging cattle, donkeys, dogs, cats and horses amusing and did quite a lot of bird-watching. We slept to the sound of the waves on the beach and woke on the first morning to the call of a lonely pony and later, a solitary rooster. And now we’re home.

By Camille Armantrout

Camille lives with her soul mate Bob in the back woods of central North Carolina where she hikes, gardens, cooks, and writes.