Perhaps it’s the foreign language that intimidates many “would be” visitors of Mexico. Or, it could be the tales from south of the border that keep many from experiencing our sister country. For example, I myself have heard the horror stories; the man and wife who went to Mexico and were never heard from again; the two guys who spent five years in a Mexican jail because a Mexican citizen hit their car; The woman who drank the water in Mexico and nearly died (or she did die, depending on who is telling the story).
So how safe is Mexico? I felt safe enough to venture on the trip alone, but ended up taking Ms. Star Thompson along with me. Star, a twenty-seven year Chula Vista resident, had never been to Rosarito. Her fathers warning of the forbidden country had, to this date, been taken as the word of the almighty himself.
When visiting any country, Mexico being no exception, one should follow some basic rules. We did exactly that on a Friday afternoon as we made our way to Las Rocas Hotel Resort & Spa, located just ten minutes south of Rosarito Beach, Mexico.
First on the priority list, and
RULE #1: Purchase Mexican Insurance before you cross the border. Extended coverage for your vehicle for the entire weekend is only $14.95. A minor traffic accident in Mexico without insurance may result in big problems, so spend the fifteen bucks and get insured.
A quarter mile this side of the border we learned to drive as the Mexicans did as we merged with the locals and visitors alike who anxiously waited the cross the border.
RULE #2: Don’t let the merging traffic freak you out! Keep your sights on merging and stand your ground or you will still be trying to cross the border come Saturday.
RULE #3: Keep your eyes on the unfamiliar road and traffic.
Star and I practiced the first three rules with great ease and made it to our resort destination in just under forty-five minutes. I had discovered this beautiful resort on the Internet. The photographs on the Las Rocas web site had convinced me that this resort would most definitely be the “ideal getaway” for single parents.
It was immediately apparent that the photos shown on the Internet didn’t do justice to this picturesque resort. A distinguished-looking Hispanic man sat at a Baby Grand piano in the main lobby. The tunes he played were vaguely familiar and set the relaxing mood for the entire weekend.
Upon introducing ourselves to the front desk clerk, we had the pleasure of meeting our host “Mr. Jimmy”, as the staff referred to him. He is one of the partners of Las Rocas.
Jimmy and his partners purchased the seventy-four Room/Suite Resort just three years ago. The partners have continued to improve the resort by reinvesting any and all profits back into the establishment, and it shows. Jimmy himself lives in a condo close to the resort and directs the day to day business of running this spectacular resort.
I questioned him on visiting or living in Mexico and agreed with his response and opinions wholeheartedly. Jimmy feels safer in Mexico than he does in the states. Children do not come to school with weapons in this country. Nor did he deny that Mexico, like every metropolitan city in the United States, has drug cartel who break the law and have their own problems. Their existence in Mexico is much is less apparent than it is in Los Angeles or other cities here in The United States.
“Las Rocas”, I learned, means “The Rocks”. From our second-story, corner, pool side suite, Star and I wondered if the namesake was the result of the giant rock in the middle of the swimming pool. Or maybe the fact that the resort itself seemed to be built into the side of a rock cliff. Not that it mattered much to either of us as within minutes of seeing our suite, we had declared that we wanted to live here forever. The grounds were beautiful, the pool like something out of a movie and the staff was the warmest and friendliest that either of us had ever experienced.
Nightfall arrived and we joined Jimmy at the bar. We met Robert, another American, who owned a smaller hotel and restaurant just down the road. Within the hour, every table was filled and the singing began. Jimmy started Karaoke with “Sweet Home Alabama” and got the crowd in the mood for what turned out to be several hours of singing. Kirk, an attorney in the entertainment industry and another partner in the Las Rocas property, arrived from Los Angeles around 9:00 PM. A handsome (and single) man, Kirk had come to Las Rocas to celebrate his 40th Birthday on Saturday followed by his cousin’s wedding on Sunday.
It was 1:00 AM before Star and I got up the nerve to sing into the microphone, but you should have heard us belting out Tom Jones’ “Delilah” and several other oldies. Eventually, they made us stop and we retired our worn out vocal cords.
Saturday morning was spent by the pool. We chose the pool closest to our suite and lounged comfortably with many of the previous night’s Karaoke stars. Food was cooked poolside and the smell in the air was a wonderful mix or carne asada and saltwater. The time scheduled for my massage arrived and I made my way to the Spa where I was greeted by Elaine. Elaine, an American as well, runs the spa at Las Rocas and proudly escorted me on a tour of the facility. Mr. Rodriguez, the architect happened to stop by later and I had the pleasure of meeting him as well.
I felt like I was in Beverly Hills. Elaine escorted me to a changing room where I was given a soft, thirsty, terry robe to slip into. I changed and stepped into the foyer where Jose, a thirty-five year massage veteran, waited to take me to my massage room. I laid face down and went to heaven, as the non-English speaking Jose released a year of pent up tension. I think I might have asked him to marry me. Single parenting is a tough and stressful job and I have decided that we definitely deserve to pamper ourselves on occasion.
The floors of the spa are done in coral colored marble, so shiny you can almost see your reflection. There’s a full gym facility with a view of the blue pacific waters. The auroma therapy baths are surrounded by glass with the same incredible view. A full nail and makeup salon overlooks a popular spot on the cliffs for weddings. Star was having her nails done for the evening’s birthday party, to which we had been invited.
As I waited for my turn to repair two broken nails, Laura, our manicurist, suggested I go ahead and shower at the spa first. After showering and while towel drying, I noted the dispenser on the wall. On one side it read “soap” in English. I looked at the other side(without my glasses on) and it looked to be word similar to lanolin. “It must be lotion or lanolin in Spanish” I thought and proceeded to cover my entire body generously in the lathery stuff. A few minutes later Elaine popped in. I asked her just what kind of lotion this was, as it was burning a little. Elaine smiled slightly as she informed me that it was some type of soap gel. Back in the shower I went!
Rule #4: Never use anything on your body that is written in Spanish if you don’t know for sure what it is.
We joined Kirk and his relatives outside on the cabana for a scrumptious dinner of lobster and steak followed by salsa dancing. We met the cousin and her groom-to-be as well as Kirk’s parents, who shared with me that they were building a house just down the way from the resort.
Star and I enjoyed our second night at Las Rocas and checked out at noon on Sunday. The roadside shops beckoned us with their display of iron beds and beautifully carved chairs and tables. Unable to resist, we wandered from vendor to vendor admiring their artful furniture and knick knacks. One cannot visit Rosarito without a stop at the Rosarito Beach Resort, so we settled on an ocean-view lunch of New York Steak. Of course, the shopping here is hard to resist. So in comfortable shoes we made our way up and down the uneven sidewalks, wandering into each little bizarre. The Mexicans hawking their wares called us Movie Stars as we passed their place of business and I thought of how flattered the average American woman must feel at the compliment.
The wait to cross the border back into our homeland was minimal. Thirty-five minutes at most. Of course, we aquired two children’s desks adorned with laminated pictures of Walt Disney’s Ariel, miniature glass angels with halos, three of the most beautiful Barbie dresses you have ever seen, and a bracelet for my daughter.
I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m ready to go back and experience some the best hospitality you’ll ever find in this part of the world!
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