Cabo: Weekend Nightmare _verified_ 〈FREE 2024〉

Worse: the resort is at 98% occupancy. The pool has towels on every lounger by 6:30 AM. The hot tub is tepid and crowded. And the elevator smells faintly of regret and tequila. Morning – The Beach That Isn’t. You wanted to swim at Médano Beach, Cabo’s most famous stretch of sand. But the surf is dangerous—red flags snap in the wind. Swimming is prohibited. Instead, hundreds of tourists stand ankle-deep in the shallows, looking like disappointed flamingos. Vendors walk by every 30 seconds selling hats, blankets, massages, sunglasses, cigars, and a mysterious substance in a Ziploc bag. “No, gracias” becomes your mantra.

You try to take an Uber back to your hotel. Surge pricing: $65 for a 7-minute ride. You walk. Bad idea. The unlit sidewalk ends abruptly, and you nearly step into an open storm drain. Checkout is 11:00 AM. You wake up at 8:00 to pack, but the room above you has been doing what sounds like furniture rearrangement since 6:00 AM. (It’s not furniture.) At checkout, they hit you with a “resort fee” of $50/night that was “clearly disclosed in the fine print.” It wasn’t. cabo: weekend nightmare

Have your own Cabo weekend horror story? Email us at travel@nightmarechronicles.com. The most outrageous tales will be featured in next month’s issue. Worse: the resort is at 98% occupancy

You board at 7:00 PM for a flight that was scheduled at 3:00. You land home at midnight. You have work tomorrow. Cabo has been a victim of its own success. In 2023, Los Cabos International Airport saw over 6 million passengers, up 40% from pre-pandemic levels. But the infrastructure hasn’t kept pace. The same two-lane highway serves airport, town, and the tourist corridor. Hotel occupancy routinely exceeds 90% on weekends, but service staffing hasn’t recovered from COVID layoffs. Cruise ships disgorge thousands of day-trippers directly onto the marina, doubling the Saturday crowd. And the elevator smells faintly of regret and tequila

Then comes the rental car gauntlet. You booked a compact SUV for $40/day. What you get: a dusty sedan with a flickering check-engine light, after 45 minutes of paperwork, upsold insurance you don’t need, and a shuttle driver who looks at you like you’ve personally offended his ancestors.

By the time you hit Highway 1, it’s 8:30 PM. You’re hungry, tired, and the sun has set. Welcome to Cabo. You reserved a room three months ago. The confirmation email is pristine. But at the front desk: “We have no record of that reservation.” After 20 minutes of frantic phone calls, they find it—but your ocean-view room is now “interior garden” (translation: parking lot view). They promise to move you tomorrow. Tomorrow never comes.