When we set foot on the Gustavo Diaz Ordaz International Airport tarmac, we were following in glamorous footsteps. The village originally called “Las Penas de Santa Maria Guadalupe” had enjoyed a wild ride from unanimity to its current status as the Jessica Simpson of Mexico—curvaceous, attractive, maddeningly brilliant and ridiculously stupid at the same time (Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton are in a constant battle to be Cancun’s comparison point. Currently, I feel Lindsay is winning, but this is a debate for another time.) Puerto Vallarta’s rise to prominence began when two starlets of a different era arrived, Ava Gardner and Elizabeth Taylor, the former to star alongside Richard Burton in John Huston‘s adaptation of the Tennessee Williams play, The Night of the Iguana, and the latter to star alongside him on secluded beaches and in softly lit bedrooms. Taylor and Burton‘s affair, along with the sultry subject matter of the film, turned Puerto Vallarta into an international hotspot overnight and, in all likelihood, bewildered its then 12,500 residents. The city’s popularity and population only grew when, thirteen years later, it enjoyed another star turn as a destination for The Love Boat.
During our stay the residents were extremely friendly and helpful. Because so few of them had lived in Puerto Vallarta forty years ago, they seemed to view tourists as welcome visitors, sources of economic prosperity rather than trespassers trampling their culture. This lack of animosity and the large percentage of English-speaking locals made the city feel extremely safe. You needn’t be afraid of exploring the downtown at night or wandering off the edges of the map you were given at the hotel. Though there is still a sense of being somewhere foreign and unpredictable, you can take wrong turns and indulge curiosities without putting yourself in any danger. This delicate balance of mystery and safety is one of Puerto Vallarta’s strongest attractions, particularly for anyone who wants to experience Mexico but like me, inexplicably took French in high school.
Like all winter wanderers, we spent our first day thawing out at the nearest available beach, which the people at the Villa del Palmar were kind enough to provide for us. The beach stretched across the property of several hotels, including a monstrous, new resort that should be ready sometime in the summer of 2009. The sounds of distant construction aside, I was filled with contentment when I felt the sand beneath my toes and was welcomed by a breeze that kept the temperature on the razor’s edge between too hot and too cold.
