Un-resort vacationing in Puerto Vallarta

By Tom Carter
THE WASHINGTON TIMES
December 9, 2006

MISMALOYA, Mexico -- When my outdoorsy daughter, who goes snowboarding, rock climbing and rowing for recreation, heard we were considering Puerto Vallarta for vacation, she groaned with disappointment. "That's a resort," she said dismissively.

But after a morning of snorkeling in the crystal blue waters off Los Arcos islands among thousands of brilliantly colored tropical fish, followed by an afternoon of serious hiking from the fishing village of nearby Boca de Tomatlan through the jungle to a hidden white-sand beach where she watched a lizard snatch a butterfly from the air, she was hooked.

"This is better than I thought it was going to be," she said before slipping into a deep, contented sleep.

Lining the beaches of Banderas Bay, Puerto Vallarta is rightly famous for its spectacular resorts -- where thousands of visitors flock and are cocooned in luxurious tropical surroundings; where sumptuous meals are standard; and the only decisions to be made are whether to play a round of golf, go to the spa, order a margarita or take a dip in the pool.

For a price, Puerto Vallarta has Jet Skis to rent, parasailing, swimming with dolphins, and jungle zip lines. As with any resort, T-shirt and trinket stores line the streets, and there are dozens of bars and nightclubs where Jalisco tequila and Pacifico beer with a wedge of lime flow freely and cheaply.

For the adventurous, there are other sides to Puerto Vallarta.It has become an artists' colony and collectors' destination, with dozens of galleries on the old cobblestone streets featuring a surprising variety of mediums and styles.

On the weekly Art Walk linking 17 galleries, I found the traditional pottery of Mata Ortiz arresting, but a friend with a critical eye who buys art for a living was particularly impressed with the Omar Alonso Gallery, across the street from the Cafe des Artists restaurant.

"There were several world-class artists there that even a novice art collector would appreciate," she said.

Puerto Vallarta is also a fast-growing retirement destination for Canadian and U.S. citizens, who live in gleaming waterfront condominiums at about one-third of the cost of living in the United States.

It also is home to an astonishing array of restaurants -- from street stalls selling tacos and enchiladas to the River Cafe, where I had the best fried calamari I have ever tasted.

The Cafe des Artists has a menu that would not be out of place alongside the best in New York or San Francisco. Le Cliff, overlooking the bay, is about a 20-minute drive from downtown and is one of the most beautifully situated restaurants in the area -- perfect for a marriage proposal such as the one the entire restaurant witnessed while we were there.

She said,"Yes."

For those willing, Puerto Vallarta is a great starting point for excellent surfing.

We made our base the Casa Iguana, a family hotel in Mismaloya, about 15 minutes from old-town Puerto Vallarta and 150 yards from the beach that John Huston, Ava Gardner, Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton put on the map when filming the "Night of the Iguana" in 1964.

Before "Iguana," Puerto Vallarta was a sleepy fishing village.

The Casa Iguana is a comfortable but simple hotel with 43 two- and three-bedroom suites, each with a kitchenette and dining area. The cost is about $100 a night, depending on the season.

We reserved a car for airport pickup for $20 a day. Driving was surprisingly easy. Puerto Vallarta drivers were unfailingly polite, readily yielding right of way, and rarely went above 35 mph.

Just outside the airport, we bought groceries at Wal-Mart. Then, after poking along Puerto Vallarta's oceanfront Malecon, or promenade, and then along the winding coastal highway, we arrived in Mismaloya.

Most tourists at the downtown resorts pay $45 for boat transportation, equipment rental and an hour of snorkeling off Los Arcos, but we walked the cobblestone street from our hotel, past the sunning iguanas and taco stands to the Mismaloya beach, where Mexican families were swimming. At least a dozen local boat operators offer snorkeling gear and transportation to Los Arcos for $15 to $20 a person.

Roberto and his son, Dante Aron, took us out early to avoid the tourist rush. A 10-minute boat ride, a splash in the warm, clear water, and we were amid thousands of yellow, blue, black and green tropical fish. By the time the cattle boats -- those loaded with resort snorkelers crowded onboard -- arrived from Puerto Vallarta an hour later, we were tired and returned to the beach, where for 80 cents each, we lunched on tacos made from shrimp and marlin, drenched in lime and spicy salsa.

The next day, we decided to drive back around the bay, past the airport to Sayulita, where we had heard there were waves, plus surfboards available for rent.

Sayulita is about 20 miles north of Puerto Vallarta. At Bucherias, the road goes over a mountain and through a Sierra Madre forest to reach the Pacific Ocean. On some stretches of the two-lane highway, the road was covered by a canopy of trees, and hundreds -- maybe thousands -- of white and yellow butterflies danced above the road, reminding us of a magical snowfall or the cherry blossoms falling from the trees at the Tidal Basin.

Sayulita beach has a half-dozen surf shops, each renting surfboards for $20 a day and offering private lessons for $40 a hour. Depending on tide, wind and Pacific storms, the break can go left or right, over sand or coral reef. Beware of the sea urchins' spines.

Sayulita has a perfect beginner's wave, small enough that it is not intimidating but large enough to give a thrill. For better surfers, about three miles north is San Francisco -- known locally as San Pancho -- where a near perfect 5-foot barrel breaks when it is firing.

At Sayulita, when the tide and wind conspired to give the break some power, depth and shape, dozens of local surfers -- including several retired gringos -- suddenly appeared on large and small boards and put on a dazzling display of surfing skills. And what surfing community would be complete without a surfing dog?

My wife and I sunned on the beach, drinking strong Mexican espressos, eating grilled shrimp with lime (five shrimp for $2) or chili-and-cheese enchiladas and occasionally walking out to bob in the warm Pacific surf.

We also took a short walk, past Villa Amour, a waterfront luxury hotel featured recently in Conde Nast Traveler, over the hill and through the local cemetery to a secluded cove and deserted white-sand beach right out of "Robinson Crusoe" -- but with icy Corona beer within a 10-minute walk.

By the end of the second day, we were worn out, but my children had gotten the hang of surfing after having caught and ridden their first waves. My daughter already was plotting to return with her friends to attend the all-girls surf camp next year.

Exhausted from a week of physically demanding activity, we decided to spend a day in Puerto Vallarta, doing what tourists do: buying bracelets, trinkets and a bottle of 100 percent agave sipping tequila.

We passed on the T-shirts but met a friendly American retiree who, after ranting about U.S. politics and Iraq, pointed us to Viejo Vallarta and what he described as the best Mexican food for the best price in Puerto Vallarta.

We were skeptical, as it was located in the heart of the tourists' Puerto Vallarta. I don't know if it actually was the best, but the seafood soup, fresh red snapper and the flan for dessert were excellent, and the service, as in every place we ate in Puerto Vallarta, was friendly and attentive, all for about $15 per person.

The view from the third-floor restaurant, watching the sun set over the water, the nightly fireworks and then a tropical downpour, was priceless.

Back home, I ran into a friend who went to Puerto Vallarta last winter on his honeymoon. He said that though it was nice, and perfect for a honeymoon, he didn't think he would return.

Too bad. He might have enjoyed it more had he vacationed outside the resort box.

We're going back in a month or so -- and we're going to stay longer.

Christies Great Estates awards La Punta Realty it's first affiliation in Mexico!

Through Christie’s Great Estates, We Put Our Clients In Touch With Affluent Buyers and Sellers Worldwide

As exclusive affiliate of Christie’s Great Estates in Puerto Vallarta, Punta de Mita, Costa Careyes, Costa Alegre and Costa Nayarit, La Punta Realty offers our clients the extraordinary reach and strength of the world’s largest and most prestigious network specializing in the sale of luxury real estate.

A subsidiary of the renowned firm of fine art auctioneers, Christie’s Great Estates puts at the disposal of its affiliates the marketing power of 15,000 agents in 600 offices in 17 countries, including 7,000 agents in 145 offices in the United States.

As specialists in the sale of important properties, they provide a unique ability to bring together buyers and sellers of high-end real estate throughout the world. Only those brokerage firms that have met the uncompromising standards of Christie’s Great Estates for excellent service, consistent achievement, consummate professionalism and discretion are awarded affiliate status.

A potent sales tool available to La Punta Realty clients, where appropriate, is the distinctive showcase magazine, Christie’s Great Estates, which enjoys a readership of more than 200,000 clients and prospective buyers and sellers. It is read by some of the world’s most affluent, including many of the highest-salaried executives and heads of major corporations, celebrities, sports figures and other high net-worth individuals. Copies are mailed to a strategically targeted list of the wealthiest homeowners in more than 100 major cities and towns. It is also available at Christie’s offices, and at newsstands and bookstores in affluent communities throughout the world, as well as in many fine hotels and inns.

Another exclusive marketing vehicle is a Christie's Great Estates property brochure, a high quality, four-color piece which is mailed to a select audience of influential home buyers and other prime prospects for luxury real estate.Your home may also be displayed in Christie's Great Estates offices and Christie's salesrooms throughout the world, as well as in Christie's Magazine and on the Christie's Great Estates web site. Christie’s, the world’s oldest fine art auction house, was founded in London in 1766 by James Christie and today conducts many of the most important auctions in the world in more than 80 categories. It has an international network of 90 offices in 35 countries.

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* Christie's, the world's leading fine arts auctioneer, was established in London in 1766 by James Christie. Today, Christie's conducts some of the most important auctions in the world, selling paintings, furnishings, and other decorative arts.

* Over the course of more than two centuries, Christie's has grown into an international organization of 84 offices in 35 countries and employs approximately 1,700 people around the world.

* Christie's auctions items in more than 80 categories, including silver, jewelry, photography, wine, furniture, ceramics, porcelain, silver, automobiles, stamps, comic books and memorabilia, and other collectibles as well as fine paintings and sculpture.

* Christie's holds many world auction records. Vincent van Gogh's Portrait of Dr. Gachet, which sold in May 1990 for $82,500,000, is one of the highest-priced works of art ever sold at auction.
* Christie's publishes Christie's Magazine, read by more than 100,000 individuals worldwide, as well as 600 sales catalogues that reach a worldwide audience for collectors and scholars.

* Christie's offers courses in the fine and decorative arts in Glasgow, London, Los Angeles, Melbourne, New York, and Paris.

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Christie's Great Estates - La Punta Realty

Explore the coveted coastline around Banderas Bay. Our area covers from San Blas along Costa Nayarit, to Punta de Mita, Puerto Vallarta, South to Costa Alegre, Costa Careyes to Barra de Navidad.

The well kept secrets of Pacific Mexico's dramatic cliffs, coves and sand have long attracted the Blue blooded and Hollywood set looking for a quiet escape at secret hideaways like Costa Careyes.

Since opening up to foreign investment, Mexico has seen an explosion in luxury residential resort development, particularly North Shore Puerto Vallarta and Punta de Mita the boom has brought world-class resort hotels, Mexico's famed architects, a community of celebrity CEOs, and a massive outlay of government infrastructure.

Mexican President Vicente Fox recently inaugurated the Nayarit Tourist Corridor, a coastal infrastructure mega-project north of Puerto Vallarta. This plan is financed by state, federal and private interests. It is part of a plan proposed in the early '90s for appropriate sustainable development of the region.

The government hopes to keep the infrastructure growing to accommodate the increasing number of new homeowners. Services like electricity, water treatment, telecommunications, airports and highways are completed by a major hospital, schools, commercial centers, an aerodrome, a 150 slip marina and a marine park similar to that of Xcaret. The idea is to dot the coastline with smaller, tasteful establishments, in the luxury boutique market.

The Mexican government has also changed some of the real estate laws. Now it is easier for foreigners to buy and develop property in Mexico. Many Americans have watched the values of their Mexican properties appreciate 10% a year the past five years.

The development of North Shore Puerto Vallarta, Punta de Mita and the Nayarit coast is a special phenomenon for Mexico. Low density developments preserve the environment and create a balance that is essential for the high end coastal lifestyle that people dream about. It is truly amazing what is happening. There are many active developments to choose from along the North coast and the properties are selling well.

The most exclusive luxury investments are taking place in the areas around Punta de Mita which Andrew Harper's Hideaway Report, a bible for luxury travelers, highlighted the Four Seasons, Punta Mita in its 25th annual readers' survey as the Best International Resort.

Premiere hotel branded developments include the world renowned Four Seasons Resort, the St. Regis Resort , a Deepak Chopra branded residential spiritual retreat. All have their own specialized high end residential villas and condo projects.

The real estate has a restricted occupancy rate. It can be as little as nine bedrooms per 2.5 acres. This keeps the number of landowners down and encourages development of high-end living. La Punta Realty, for example, offers private beachfront home site lots priced from $600,000 - $7 million USD. Unique and luxurious beach villas range from 2 to 20 million USD.

Construction is in full swing, as Punta de Mita ended 2005 with record closed sale figures of just under $160 million USD, 60% more 2004 sales (by comparison, total Puerto Vallarta Multiple Listing Service sales for the same 2005 period came to $70 million.)

Adjacent to Punta Mita, other luxury hotel groups like the Ritz, Banyan Tree, The Omni, Hilton, One and Only Resorts and other hope to compete with similar offerings.

Christie's Great Estates - La Punta Realty's flagship development, El Banco (http://www.elbancomexico.com) will surely be among the most unique and exclusive luxury resorts in Mexico. Developed by former Yahoo Corp. CEO Tim Koogle , the vision is to exceed the quality and architectural significance of the Punta Mita Resort bringing grand colonial haciendas San Miguel de Allende to the seascapes and jungles of North Shore Puerto Vallarta..

The first phase of beachfront home sites sold at full asking price in the private reservation period. The second phase of luxury boutique hotel managed beach villas will be architecture as fine art by famous Mexican artisans Juan Munguia, Juan Pablo Stone and the star outfit from Guadalajara Elias & Elias.

La Punta Realty has the most complete and intimate knowledge of the diverse and expansive coastline of Nayarit and Jalisco. Please visit our booth to ask about the Mexico Land Catalog of beaches and coves best suited for residential, hotel resort, or home site lots..
http://www.mexicolandcatalog.com

The Future of Banderas Bay and beyond…

Mexico's push to stimulate tourism and attract private investors began to take shape in 1974 with the creation of the National Trust Fund for Tourism Development (Fonatur). Since its inception, Fonatur has been responsible for planning and developing five seaside destinations -- Cancun, Los Cabos, Ixtapa, Loreto and Huatulco -- that generate about 54% of Mexico's foreign tourism spending.

Earning its reputation as a premier golfers' destination with Travel and Leisure honoring Punta Mita as third best golf resort in Mexico and Latin America. The area has seven spectacular golf courses, designed by some of the world's top architects, including Jack Nicklaus, Greg Norman and Tom Weiskopf. Planned are 7 more golf courses around Puerto Vallarta Punta de Mita alone.

The goal now is to elevate the quality and quantity of the tourism product while diversifying the product in an effort to attract even more investment. At the same time, tourism officials want to focus on attracting sustainable development with rigorous environmental safeguards.

The Bay of Banderas has grown naturally, organically, privately, and currently attracts over 3-million tourists per year and has a population of about 325,000. According to Fonatur the Mexican tourist development bank, and the Banderas tourism board, the number of tourists in the next 20 years will exceed 6 million per year and the population will more than double. In the South is a condominium explosion, primarily in Nuevo Vallarta, Marina Vallarta and along the hillsides of the Sierra Madres overlooking the town and the bay.

According to the Mexican government, with foreign investment in Mexico on track to hit $20 billion this year, up from $17.6 billion in 2005, the market has just become prolific in Mexico, with about 1.5 million Americans now owning property there. Values in some markets have tripled in five years — far exceeding the rates of return you find in the United States.

The Bay of Banderas serves as the foreground for lush, tropical jungle, while the rugged Sierra Madre mountain range provides the backdrop. This is the vista that planners want to preserve.

Luxury home buyers are gravitating toward ecologically sound and conservation-friendly communities in the North of the bay, only a short distance away from the sophisticated dining, galleries, shopping, and night life of Puerto Vallarta.

No Crowds? No Rush? In Mexico, No Problemo

By M.L. Lyke
Special to The Washington Post
Sunday, December 3, 2006; Page P01

It takes a day or two in La Manzanilla to spot the symptoms. There's the flat tire on the rental
car that has gone nowhere in seven days, the book buried in the sand facedown, the gringo who
can't remember what day it is, the old local waving hola from his hammock.

Expats call the phenomenon "the great sand suck."

Extreme cases become the stuff of legend, like the Oregon tourist plopped in a beach chair who couldn't decide whether to go barefoot or wear sandals. He started mulling the question in the morning. At 5 p.m. he was still in the same spot. Same chair, one sandal on, one off. "I meant to go someplace," he said with a shrug.

Even the roosters seem afflicted in this dusty little Mexican fishing village, a hushed-up spot
that's still off the clock and, for a while yet, off the tourist track. The scrawny birds go off
at all hours -- midnight, 2 a.m., breakfast time, lunchtime, margarita time -- their hoarse,
halfhearted cock-a-doodle-doos signifying nothing in particular.

"Nothing" may have a bad name north of the border, but down here on Mexico's west coast, some four hours south of Puerto Vallarta along the Costa Alegre (the Happy Coast), finding the dada of nada is a fine pastime. "I'm listening to the space between the waves," a music-teacher friend told me, planted in her chair on Day 4 of vacation, eyes closed, face to the sea, listening to the gentle surf that rises, sighs and foams across a long, low-slope beach.

La Manzanilla isn't fancy, not even close, despite a growing number of handsome architect-designed rentals and a smattering of new galerias. There are no resorts, no sports bars, no souvenir shops, no time-share pitches, no prepackaged special deals. Regulars, who urge others to keep this pretty hideout secret, pack pesos: There are no banks, no bank machines, no plastic, no traveler's checks.

What you get for those pesos -- and you won't need many -- are friendly townsfolk used to mingling with gringos, a dreamy sweep of beach backed up to tropical jungle, and time, the kind of soak-in time that untangles thoughts, unknots muscles and transforms foot-tapping Type A's into Type Z's,
full on empty.

Angling for Nothing

Laid-back La Manzanilla is often confused with the busy port of Manzanillo, less than an hour to
the south. That "a" at the end makes all the difference. Big Manzanillo has a population of more
than 100,000. Little "La Manz" may have 3,500 in peak season, including winter residents, native locals and the Mexicans who come from inland, their trucks packed with inflatable water toys, kids and grandparents riding overstuffed chairs in the pickup bed.

The town lies cupped in the protected southeastern reach of the Bay of Tenacatita, and even water-sissies like me can spend hours boogie-boarding the soft, rolling wavelets, riding right up onto the beach, with a bathing suit full of sand and the kind of silly grin you see on a 6-year-old, sure of her safe delivery to shore.

I've been coming to La Manzanilla three years running, staying in beautiful beachfront suites for less than $100 a night in high season. Get off the beach and you can easily halve that. If you hit
the street taquerios for $1.50 tacos or cook up a nice pot of refrieds with serrano chilis to put
inside the fresh tortillas made steps down the street, you can enjoy slacker paradise on a comfy
budget.

Pencil in at least a couple nights out, though. The town has a good, eclectic mix of restaurants
serving traditional Mexican dishes, super-fresh seafood and chef creations such as shrimp and
spinach crepes, Thai curries and octopus salad.

The first year, I came to La Manzanilla because I'd heard about the fishing. The waters offshore
teem with tuna, marlin, sailfish, snapper and dorado, gorgeous pescado that leap neon yellow and green and blue from the warm Pacific. Fishermen cast small, weighted seine nets, or pole-fish with line and jig to bring in roosterfish right off the beach. Locals also offer guided fishing trips in open boats.

That first year, I didn't catch anything. Then I caught nothing, the Big Nothing. I've been coming back for it ever since.

It won't last. It can't. Regulars who've been snowbirding here for years predict that, within a decade, La Manzanilla will be another international tourist destination like Puerto Vallarta. "But it will take 10 years at least," said one baked Canadian, a week into his stay.

Foreigners are moving in, importing the norte americano ideas that have transformed town after town along a mellow coast some developers now call "the Mexican Riviera."

Already, a new cyber cafe is up and running. Bulletin boards advertise personal growth workshops and wellness spas, and Web sites describe the village where La Manzanillan men still bond while mending nets in an old fishing cooperative as "an artist colony." Indeed, expats have built a new nonprofit multicultural center where locals and visitors take classes in pottery, painting, language, dance, yoga.

Even at siesta, real estate offices are buzzing with gringos, and new construction is crawling and sprawling up the jungled hill behind the town. "It's just gone crazy," says Jane Gorby, a rental agent and columnist who writes for the Guadalajara Reporter about the town.

When she first visited, in 1995, the typical truck cruising the main drag had no roof, no hood and a plastic jug of gasoline in the back with a tube going into the manifold. Now locals drive spiffy cars and big trucks. Gorby's not bemoaning the changes. "The charm of this town is that it combines Old Mexico with modern conveniences."

Some in town urge caution, however. A hand-painted sign placed conspicuously in the center of town several years ago bears an old American Indian warning, admonishing, in part, that only after the last tree has been cut, only after the last hill is sold, only after the last fish caught, will
people realize that "money cannot be eaten."

Still, the old and new seem to coexist comfortably in a slow seven-minute stroll down the main dirt drag -- hosed down each noontime for dust control.

At the village plaza, giggling Mexican girls stroll arm in arm past awkward town boys, while gringos watch from an outdoor bistro, sipping shade-grown organic coffee. Down the street from local mom-and-pop groceries, past the new galerias, a white-haired Mexican woman falls deep asleep in her plastic chair at noon, her big legs held in the timeless spread of a flowered housedress.
Ready for Action?

Walk a minute more, and you come to the town's end -- and its unexpected edge: a mosquito-humming mangrove lagoon that's home to an estimated 75 to 100 American crocodiles, Crocodylus acutus, some 12 feet in length. The species is said to eat almost anything that moves, and over the years the crocs have developed a taste for mongrel perro -- dead dogs, tossed into the lagoon by locals, and live ones that wander into the wrong place at the wrong time. I've spent hours swatting skeeters at the viewing platform above this ecological preserve, watching crocs snake through the swampy water with their horny hides and prehistoric scales, cold
Godfather eyes half-shuttered, terrible jaws opening to reveal jagged rows of razor teeth.
It's one of my preferred breaks from nothing.

I've also spent hours snorkeling in the rock reefs at beach end, seeing turtles and wrasses, baby stingrays and schools of silver-sided needlefish. And I always take the long hike down the smooth, curving beach to Boca de Iguanas (Mouth of the Iguanas), past campsites with embedded hippie buses, a sand cemetery with plastic-flower wreaths on gravestones, and the crumbling remains of a luxury hotel, never completed, that was reportedly blown up in a mysterious propane explosion tied to shady drug dealings.

If I'm really ready for some action, I call on Davison Collins, a high-energy nature guru,
professional whitewater kayaker and dedicated conservationist who guides birding and snorkeling eco-tours, whipping out a juice-swollen pineapple and an umbrella to sit under midday as he tells tales of shooting Class V rapids or kayaking the croc lagoon in the dark of night.

On the open kayaks he calls "sit-on Cadillacs," I've followed him down a river that ran to the
Pacific, navigating rapids and sandbars as we tracked birds -- white ibis, gray hawks, wood
storks, roseate spoonbills, ringed kingfishers. We listened to the girly screeches of yellow
kiskadees and the prehistoric squawks of herons, and saw vultures gather in dense black packs,
holding their wings out for airing, like dark angels.

I've also kayak-surfed with Collins into a lagoon choked with red mangrove. The vegetation was so thick, the gnarled roots so entwined, that only solitary sun rays peeked through to light the
milk-chocolate water. It was spooky-silent, a desperate, decomposing, dreamy waterscape that
suggested the beginnings of time.

Whatever that was.

I've lost track of it after every one of these mad exertions, returning to La Manzanilla to settle
back in my beachside chair and stare for hours at the mini-curl of surf, ice cubes melting in my
Cuba Libre, skin glowing, mind blank, system on zero.

"Nice," I said to my musician friend at day's end. She nodded. We'd gone from complex sentence structures to simple, one-syllable words. In front of us, the sun went yellow to orange, and bloated as it touched the horizon. Fishermen waded chest-deep into the water with their nets, teens rolled soccer balls up their legs and off their heads, and sailing dinghies came in on a shush of swell. Near us, a girl spread her arms and kicked at the water, throwing orange diamonds in the air. A thick woman -- her mother? -- sat at the tide line, her wet dress frilling and unfrilling around her in the surge of sea foam. Her face was blank, not a muscle stirring.
I knew that feeling. It was the feeling of doing absolutely nothing.

Nothing never looked so good.

"A toast?" I asked my friend as the sun finally slid beneath the blue divide. We air-clinked our
glasses in salute. It was simply too much effort to get up and reach across the table. We were two grown girls in slo-mo, going nowhere, totally sand-sucked.