But enough about demographics. Here is a day-by-day break down of the trip, which we did over the long weekend here.
DAY 1
The bus trip had not been fun - the last four hours or so were serpentine to say the least, and my stomach had been churned into - I don't know, whatever food item gets churned. Anyway, getting off the bus at around 11am on Friday was a relief for all of us, though to get to our hostel another half hour bus ride was required.
The hostel itself was a respectable joint, run by a thirty-something Mexican woman and her Italian husband. The seven of us all slept in the same room, along with a nice American lady who fit my stated Vallarta-demographic, minus the retired part. At around 250 pesos ($20 NZ) a night, the place was affordable, which was just as well, since we had already forked out several thousand pesos for the return bus trip. After getting set up in the hostel, we decided there was no time to waste, and we set out to explore.
The beaches at Puerto Vallarta, if you can find them, are not to be scoffed at. Golden sand and turquoise waters await cliche-oriented travelers, while large rock areas boast aquatic creatures such as crabs for the amateur marine biologist. Unfortunately, I forgot to bring my camera with me on the first day, so I have no photos from our initial excursions.
After a quick swim at the beach closest to our hostel, we ventured up to a beach recommended by Lonely Planet known as 'Las Palmeras' - the palms. Reaching this elusive spot ended up taking a good portion of the afternoon, since we had originally attempted to find it by walking, only to later find out that it was nearly half an hour by bus. When we finally got there, nobody actually swam - I think we must have all had existential crises, since we sat in silence on the shore staring vacantly out at the ocean for well over an hour. Nevertheless, in hindsight, that foray was more about the journey than the destination; while we repeatedly failed to find the correct beach, in the meantime we were getting a clearer picture of the kind of terrain that characterises Puerto Vallarta, and indeed the West Coast of Mexico.
Dinner was a highly cultured hamburger and chips.
DAY 2
We got up early on Saturday morning to go on a day-trip to 'Las Ánimas', a gorgeous beach in Puerto Vallarta accessible only by boat. Why did I use the word 'gorgeous'? I hate that word. Anyway, after being given a thorough hassling by a man on the shore offering boat rides to Las Ánimas, we agreed to go with him, boarding the small boat at 10am.
It turned out to be a good choice. I talked with the guide most of the way there, and he explained many interesting things to me about the various beaches and buildings we passed. I was surprised to find out that a Hollywood film had been made at a location very close to Las Ánimas, 1964's The Night of the Iguana. Richard Burton stars as a disgraced priest who battles against his love of women and the drink over a long night at a hotel in Puerto Vallarta. Apparently the filming of that movie opened Puerto Vallarta's door to the world, and serious development of the area began a few years later.
Also, I learned, the science-fiction film Predator was mostly filmed in the jungle of Puerto Vallarta.
En route, the guide took us past 'Los Arcos', three large rock islets characterised by continuous, arch-shaped caves.
Apparently one of them looks like a demon - unfortunately I couldn't see the resemblance, so didn't take a picture.
Some people went for a swim at Los Arcos - I decided not to, but there were other treats there! Large shoals of fish swarmed around the boats for god only knows what reason, and I was eventually able to get a decent picture of the creatures.
We soon pressed on, and reached Las Ánimas some twenty minutes later. As we walked down the wharf on our arrival, an extremely conspicuous lizard caught our attention. As I had suspected, the reptile belonged to a guy who was charging people to take pictures of themselves holding it. Being a shameless lizard-lover, I couldn't resist.
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| Lizzy 'n' Me |
And of the beach as a whole:
The guide picked us up at 2pm and we headed back in the boat to the city centre.
Later, we had a restaurant meal at the confusing time of 4pm, when it is really too late for lunch but too early for dinner. Just before we left, the waiter recommended we visit a nearby lookout point, which apparently offered incredible views of the city and the ocean. We had no choice but to go, and as it turned out, this was one of the best decisions of the trip. After an arduous ascent up a number of flights of narrow steps, we arrived at the mirador, and were presented with a fantastic panorama.
And we stayed for the sunset...
On the summit, there was a cross structure erected, and the base of it bore a palette of graffiti. This particular image does not cast Spongebob Squarepants in a flattering light:
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| Spongebob has seen better days |
After the sun set, we headed home for the night.
DAY 3
Another early get-up was in order for Sunday, as we had another day trip lined up: Islas Marietas. Yet another of Lonely Planet's recommendations, Las Islas Marietas are a group of small uninhabited islands off the coast of a place called Punta Mita, which itself is about an hour's bus ride from Puerto Vallarta proper. In fact the trip there took an hour and a half, which, on an uncomfortable bus, was not the greatest thing ever. Still, it was a necessary evil.
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| The shore at Punta Mita |
Prior to the trip, I hadn't known that you couldn't actually get onto the islands. Mostly they have craggy faces which are not climber-friendly, and they are so small that there is not a lot to see on them anyway. Thus, for the first time, I felt Lonely Planet had slightly overrated something. They are nice, sure:
...but I wouldn't necessarily write home to my long-lost Estonian step-cousin about them.
However, they did have at least two redeeming features. Firstly, one island contains a large, arch-shaped open cave, on the other side of which lies a hidden beach. Part of the tour of the islands involves getting in the water and swimming through the cave to reach the concealed shore. The catch is, the tides go in and out through the cave, so you can only make progress swimming through the cave when the tide is moving in the right direction. It turns out that getting in is harder than getting out, because the tides are stronger on the way out of the cave. So considerable energy was expended making it through the cave, not to mention the fact that at times the rock ceiling is quite low-lying, and presents a hazard to the unwary head. One girl in our group smacked her forehead on the rock when she found herself too close to the wall as a wave crashed in. Eventually we all made it through though, and it brought a definite sense of satisfaction with it.
Secondly, the islands are home to some cool birds, another brand of creature I'm a sucker for.
Overall the excursion was worth it, though I wouldn't sell my legs to do it again.
All that was over by 1pm. We thus found ourselves with an entire afternoon to spare, and we soon decided to head off to another location called Sayulita, a very popular beach among Mexicans and non-Mexicans alike.
While a further hour of bus travel was involved, the effort was well-warranted.
The beach afforded me the best swim I had all trip. Towering, monstrous waves powered in forty metres out, demolishing a few surfers, and myself, repeatedly. My goal, as usual, was to 'catch the waves', which without a board means going into diver's position and trying to get on the wave at just the right moment so that you are propelled forward with it. In over an hour of swimming, I managed this just once. The rest of my time in the water was spent diving desperately through wave after wave, hoping I wouldn't resurface too early and get spun around like a mouse in a blender, which did admittedly happen a few times. Still, it was a lot of fun, and fulfilled my swimming dreams for the holiday.
We returned to Puerto Vallarta at around 8:30pm, and went out for dinner at a Cuban restaurant which also offered salsa dancing. One member of the group danced while the rest of us ate what was frankly an exceedingly average meal. Described on the menu as something like 'Three slices of carefully browned steak served with fresh tomato, caramelised onion, and lettuce', the dish I ordered barely fulfilled its own description, with minimal amounts of the constituent ingredients put on the plate, and absolutely no sauces to speak of added to them. Never had I felt so cheated of my money as at that misleadingly popular restaurant.
DAY 4
Monday was our last day in Puerto Vallarta. For once we had no plans - we had intended to go to a botanical garden, but it was an hour away in the bus, and we knew we faced that hideous thirteen hour bus trip again in the evening, so decided against it. We seized the opportunity to further explore our more immediate surroundings, first taking to some markets near the sea.
Do not enter markets in Mexico unless you have either a thick skin or a fat wallet. You will encounter rack upon rack of kitschy junk that serves little purpose beyond transferring money to the vendor. You will see miniature zebras, painted buttons, cheap necklaces and striped shoelaces - you will see anything a high-as-a-kite Samuel Taylor Coleridge could dream up in his most severe opium-induced stupor, and more. If you look like a tourist, the initial price offered to you for an item will be absurd. You will be asked to pay a thousand pesos for a picture of a paperclip. Never accept the original offer - chase them down as far as they will go, and then pretend to leave. You will soon discover that 'as far as they will go' is not really as far as they will go. I am not an expert in this practice, nor even proficient at it - I am simply relaying some folk wisdom I've come to learn.
Some vendors will taunt you - I ended up buying a cap because a vendor noticed the cap I was wearing at the time said 'Brasil' on it. I like the cap I bought, but I admit I wouldn't have bought it had the vendor not made a passing jibe in the first place.
I also bought a bracelet for fifty pesos (around $4 NZ) - a few minutes later, at a different stall, a woman proposed 150 pesos for the exact same bracelet. I'm not saying vendors try to rip foreigners off, but they try to rip foreigners off. I conducted every market exchange entirely in Spanish and was still convinced I was being had half the time. Chase them down and you might emerge with that precious anklet with a few pesos left in your wallet.
The rest of the day was spent wandering, eating, drinking, and viewing churches. Our holiday thus came to a relaxing close. The beach presented a welcome foil to the urban inland of Mexico City, and all of us took advantage of it. Puerto Vallarta proved to be a worthy holiday destination, to which I may someday return.
At 7pm on Monday evening, we boarded the dreaded camión, and departed for Mexico City.
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