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Scouting out dinner locations tonight was a challenge. Everywhere we went had a 30 degree sloop, single lane–up and up and up. Our Mitsubishi March rental with its manual transmission and the reverse in the wrong place didn’t help. I was nervous. So Todd looked for a place where you turn in and go down.

The Z1 at the Intrawest Club–one recommendation–came and went. Suddenly we found ourselves past everything, did a U-turn, saw a sign, Todd mentioned it was a good restaurant and since it was down a modest incline, we pulled in.

Do you have a reservation, Señor? The man at the door asked.

No, we both shook our heads.

Let me check, he said, then disappeared behind the large ornately carved wooden door which slid open mechanically to the right.

It appeared that they could fit us in and after parking in a comfy car shelter down under, we were escorted in through the beautiful lobby with a backdrop containing a fountain, or was it a stream, or a waterfall, or all three?

The hostess led us through the tiled halls of turns and steps, out and down, towards the sea, to the front corner table with a reserved sign on it. As she motioned for us to sit I could hardly believe it. Reserved for us? I asked.


She smiled, Sí.

We sat down, our waiter, Venus, recommended the Mexican Chardonnay and our faces lit up.

We watched the sun set.

We both had the Red Snapper cooked in banana leaves, the house special which Venus recommended. I didn’t hear him say anything about pineapple or I probably wouldn’t have ordered it. Todd ate all of his and I had a plateful of pineapple that I really thought about hiding under the big leaf but I didn’t. We shared the coconut ice cream with salsa de chocolate for dessert.

Where are we? I asked Todd after Venus poured the last of our wine from the bottle and disappeared.

I don’t know. Get some matches on the way out. It’s famous…



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