I really feel like I should like Loreto. It’s as if I am betraying my gringo brethren if I don’t, but somehow this town just doesn’t do it for me. Or Ali for that matter. “I’m just not feeling it,” is what she said after a few hours there. I can’t nail down what it is exactly. Maybe it is the waterfront malecon which is wholly uninteresting and doesn’t even feel like a part of the town. It’s just off on it’s own at the end of the road away from everything else. Maybe it’s the main plaza which has a gazebo that appears to have been just recently made out of left over bathroom tile from the Ramada Inn Hoboken. I don’t know for sure, but I do know that we’ve been here a couple of times now and felt nothing pulling us in to stay longer.

Ali also said on our way home today, “That restaurant saved that trip to town.” She had spotted a tacos and beer sign at an outdoor hut that was brimming with locals. We sat down, ordered beer, and a table full of tacos de pescado, and dug in. Fish tacos are really natures way of telling us those big fish hooks don’t really hurt the fish, so eat up.

And hey, we did stumble upon a great little book store too. Ouest tracked down another Dr. Seuss book, which have become our daily staple as of late. We were talking to the owner and told him we lived on a boat when a lady broke in, “Are you that couple that took off on a boat, blogs, and had a c-section baby somewhere over on the mainland?” Nah, that could be almost anyone. Turns out her daughter reads us, and shares with mum. And now I’m going to use that line as our standard bio.

So hey, Loreto wasn’t half bad really. We could sit around eating, drinking, and reading until our heart’s content. Sounds like retirement.