As a professional NFL player, now spiraling pigskin as a backup QB for the Miami Dolphins, Zach Wilson knows his way around a ball. But his fiancée, Nicolette Dellanno, threw an even bigger ball recently.
This past March, the soon-to-be-bride chose Mexico’s lively southern West Coast — Cabo San Lucas — to party down with gal pals, bachelorette style!
The town is wee, wee, wee all the way down the Sur half of the hallowed Baja California peninsula, conjoined via walkable corridor with its hermano, San José del Cabo, and straddled by the Pacific Ocean and the Gulf of California (un-wokely, the latter is known as the Sea of Cortés).
Dellanno, who announced her engagement to the former Jet, 25, last summer, flaunted a white one-piece with as she sunbathed at SUR Beach House in CSL, according to an earlier Post report. (Cabo was also TripAdvisor’s No. 5 international destination to visit for Americans in 2025).
Swimwear and sand aside, the whys of visiting the Cabos hermanos remain endless: that famed granitic arch standing amid the surfable sea, the breaching whales, the ubiquitous live music.
But the “where to lay your head” thing? That’s a more interesting question.
This sneaker-friendly municipality blends together locals and travelers, taquerias and speakeasies, craft coffee and top-shelf cuisine. It’s also a little sketch, in a good way.
Certain properties here can just sleaze away in the breeze, old-school cabeño-style. But a select few are posh, scene-y and classy. One most of all is almost demurely hiding behind its own open-kitchen, wood-fired, pizza-serving restaurant Esquina.
Blanco as blanco can be, and always fire pit- and light-strand-illuminated at night, we called Bahia Hotel & Beach House home (from $133 a night).
But just how, legally, does this boutique bed broker get away with that whole “and Beach House” nomenclature when it’s literally squatting on a very urban, passers-by-in-the-gazillions corner slice of downtown Cabo San Lucas?
Because the genius partners (after the crash of 2008, no less) Felipe Rebelo and Lee Vosburgh revamped the ’80s-built joint and tethered it exclusively to that forementioned SUR Beach Club literally right down the road, offering Bahia’s guests priority seating (read: guaranteed staked shade umbrellas, booze-balancing waiters and as-clean-as-they’re-able-to-be chaise lounges) all on a private, roped-off piece of Medano Beach (the only swimmable one in the area) with a very unique side-boob view of its famed aquatic arch.
Just hop their 20-second golf cart taxi and suddenly that sweltering Mexican asphalt beneath your feet transforms into sugary sand like magic.
With only 89 (many Jaccuzied) rooms arranged over a modest six floors, Bahia likes familiar faces. Loyal guests will often bump fists or whatever the kids are doing and chitchat with the staffers and owners alike.
If you do venture off-site with all of those dizzying distractions and never try one of Tacos Gardenia’s fried shelled fare, self-flagellate 39 times like a Benedict monk and come back next summer to repent. They’re a must (and only a block from the hotel).
Just don’t be worried about those bloodthirsty Mexican C-words around these parts — locals here jokingly refer to cartels as “country clubs.” The one heavily fortified, maximum prison-looking structure on that long, lonely stretch of cacti-rife land between Los Cabos International Airport and CSL you’ll notice is a military outpost whose camo-clad, albeit fairly low-key occupants you just might see around town specifically keep them varmints at bay. (And PS those prickly water-bloated succulents that happen to populate that vast desert keep fires away, too, just in case you’re taking notes, America-side California.)
College kids, the other C-word, however? They haven’t invented a weapon strong enough to stave them off yet. One day.
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