I hate dogs. There, I said it. I don’t find them cute, I hate when they lick you after licking their nether regions all day, and I hate that people buy them clothes.

Or at least I did before our encounter with her.

It was on a peaceful mid-morning stroll down a quiet beach trail that we first met Maria. We didn’t call her that then – for now she was just stray dog number #127 in this sleepy little beach town.

But it wasn’t long before we realized she wasn’t like the other neighborhood canines.

We didn’t know exactly how to reach our destination that morning but the owner of the cabin we stayed at had told us there was only one road down to the beach, so we couldn’t get lost. Things weren’t quite as straight forward as he seemed to think, with pathways spraying off – one looking equally as much a “main track” as the next – frequently veering around hidden corners left and right, leading into little shaded courtyards, quiet family shops, or down to the shore where fisher-children in their little boats hang out. It turned out we needed some help with directions. And fortunately on this day, Maria decided to oblige.

It was about 15 minutes down the path that we realized Maria (we decided she needed to have a Spanish lady’s name) knew well the way to the beach and was indeed leading us there – experience telling her of course, that that’s where tourists are normally headed. At this stage I figured from a stray dog’s mind it was a pretty easy gig. Pick up a tourist walking along the path, walk with them down to the beach and maybe they give you some of their food.

But Maria’s level of commitment seemed to betray that she was in it for more than just a meal.

We were advised by a local man that the normal path down to the beach (where Maria was leading us) had been flooded and that we needed to go an alternate route. As soon as Maria saw us change plans she was back out in front, leading us down the alternate route, obviously knowing the way just as well as the man who advised us.

Then came a challenge. A river crossing.

This alternate route involved making our way across a flowing body of water of about 50 meters width that was along side the beach, rushing into the ocean. Of course, Maria was the first in.

We could stand up in the waist high water but for Maria, with only an average dogs swimming skills, paddling against a current is tough. “It’s a pretty hard way to earn a feed Maria”, I thought.

Nonetheless, we crossed the river and carried on the path. After one more disagreement where we inevitably deferred to Maria’s navigational judgment, we were at our destination. We’d also officially declared Maria our friend for the weekend.

We brought Maria some tacos from the local restaurant on the beachfront but not once did it seem like that’s what she was there for. She didn’t sit by us looking up with those doggy eyes. She didn’t beg, she hardly stirred. Maria was too wise for that. She had too much dignity.

She sat by us for the afternoon, relaxing, popping into the waves for a swim when we did, and retiring to her spot in the shade when we did. About this point we realized Maria didn’t really want food. She wanted a friend.

So it came time to leave the beach and jump in a little boat to take the short trip across the bay back to our cabin. By this time it was decided that Maria was coming with us. We were preparing to lift her on to the boat and everything. What we didn’t realize was that Maria had already made the decision for us. No lifting was required.

Maria, with all the strength in her old bones, leaped from the shoreline, got her front paws over the edge of the boat, and wriggled her way in. By now the idea that this was a scam she pulled to pick up free food was long gone. For at this stage even I, dog hater extraordinaire was convinced that Maria “liked” us, and wanted to be in our company. But the spectacle that was Maria continued to grow.

We arrived back at our beach, from where we had to walk about 100m to our cabin. Maria hadn’t seen us at this place earlier in the day as we had only met her much farther down the path. She didn’t know where we lived, so we figured this time we would be leading her.

Wrong.

As soon as we started walking Maria took off up ahead. We thought maybe that was it, and she was returning to her home somewhere around here too. But strangely, somehow, she was walking in the direction of our house.

By this time we believed Maria capable of anything but none of us really thought there was some way she could know which house we’d lived in.

We continued up the path, around the corner, up the steps, and sure enough, there was Maria, sitting patiently at our front door.

The four of us stood speechless, our jaws hanging open.

How many tourists must have stayed in this house? How many times can this dog have done this? Maybe she picked up our smell but how many tourists smells must she have smelled that day? How many similar smelling tourists must have lived in the same area? How had she done it? And WHY?

In that moment, Maria became the most extraordinary dog that had ever lived.

She spent the night, we cooked her dinner, she stood guard over our house and barked when people came to the door, and politely walked to the exit to notify us when she needed to go potty.

We hung out for the rest of the weekend and when we left, sadly, we parted.

Still one week later I can’t come to terms with the fact that a stray dog, obviously kicked around in its life, underfed, malnourished and disadvantaged, could have developed such a kind and gentle nature.

I didn’t think stray dogs would develop connections with people – they don’t have owners! I didn’t think stray dogs would know that they shouldn’t do their business in the house! I didn’t think stray dogs would have the tendency to be protective over a given area – they don’t have homes!

I’m not the kind of person who says things like this, or even believes the following statement to be possible, but I can’t help but think that somehow, Maria “cared” about us. We hadn’t raised her, and we’d only known her for half a day, but she wanted to be around us. She wanted to make sure we were alright.

And you know what? If there’d been doggy t-shirts for sale in Yelapa – I might just have bought her one.

A lot of changes take place in Mexico during summer. While there are many such changes, there is one in particular that doesn’t become apparent until you get behind the wheel of a car.

The defining feature of a Mexican summer, particularly so the further south you are from the US border, is the heavy, ever present tropical rains.

The rain itself changes the face of many Mexican towns. Streets flow with water, local kids float about their neighborhoods on their bodyboards and nobody but the gringos carry an umbrella.

While the locals love or ignore it, tourists of the time are doomed to have it affect their trip. Not least of all those taking to the roads.

Number one casualty of the summer rains is the road surface quality. In other words, the sudden appearance of angry, lurking, crater of the moon sized potholes all over the place. Driving in Mexico can be daring enough at the best of times, and potholes are ever present regardless of the season, but when you start to multiply both their number and their size, an every day car trip quickly becomes a sadistic and dangerous “don’t hit the cones” type driving exam.

They hide where there are shadows, disguise themselves by filling with water, and cloak their severity by clouding with dust. And just when you think you’ve dodged one, BOOM – another one gets ya!

Oh, and if you are skilled enough to deal with the pot holes… next up you’ve got road closures.

The rains do tremendous damage as tree branches get blown down, and mud and debris get washed over the roads. In Puerto Vallarta this year a 60m long chunk of a bridge on the main highway flat out washed away – certain drivers narrowly avoiding plumeting to their death!

The difference between Mexico and say Australia or the US is that when roads get damaged, the cleanup process is slow and notifications are severely lacking.

Just this week we tried to drive from Puerto Vallarta to Sayulita – normally an hour or so drive. We turned down a road with a sign pointing to Sayulita – everything looking normal – until we started to watch the road become gradually more precarious. We passed a lone horse rider shaking his finger at us and finally got the hint. 2 minutes later the road became a death trap and we were forced to turn back.

No signs, no notification, no one minding.

I don’t mean to be totally doomsday or put anyone off from a planned driving trip in Mexico. It’s a superb experience and if you’re ready to take it all in your stride, a highly enjoyable one.

I guess this is mostly a warning for those who are considering it. If you happen to read this before you take off, I hope it will provide sufficient warning. Be ready! Prepare yourself for battle.  Load up on coffee or red bull or your stimulant of choice before you go, and get ready for some fun. Oh, and make sure you’ve got your spare tire good and ready!

Otherwise, enjoy the trip and come back to let me know how it is.

Technorati Tags: Mexico, Puerto Vallarta

In Mexico, even an improvised game of street volleyball is a family affair.

A few weeks ago some of the boys in our street painted what is basically a full size volleyball court, (complete with boxes for the servers) on the cobblestones of our street. They tied up a proper net between a drain pipe on one side and a neighbors fence on the other and presto: our quiet little calle got completely consumed by a noisy afternoon sports arena.

But you find kids playing in the streets everywhere right? Sure.

Only in Mexico something is different.

The volleyball games that now go on every afternoon outside our building aren’t just enjoyed by the players, the boys who painstakingly concocted this spontaneous stadium.

Every member of each family involved (as far as I can tell) is in attendance. The mothers are watching from the sidelines. The younger daughter is minding the little baby as he wanders the perimeter, seemingly meters from impending danger. The middle brother who doesn’t feel like playing is cheering his siblings on from the galleys. A friend from the neighborhood is monitoring the net to make sure any given play doesn’t dislodge it from it’s ad hoc binding.

Everyone’s involved somehow. And the longer you watch it, the more beautiful it seems.

It’s the consummate example of a yet nameless characteristic I’ve continually observed ever since arriving here.

I was fascinated right from the get go that whenever we’d call a service person to our house, whether for a problem with plumbing, to connect up our phone line, or to fix a leak on the roof, we’d never get a single technician.

The “plumber” that arrived at our house was 1 guy, his two cousins and one of their sons. All doing their little bit to get our drains unclogged and our taps properly sealed.

The guy who connected our phone line brought along his 11 year old son who he was training into the business. The little guy was drilling holes in our wall, connecting wires, and shouting instructions back and forth through his two-way.

Even when our land lord came to fix something on our roof it was him and his 2 buddies. The job took all day between breaks, good chats, and shared beers.

It’s just how it is. Even the simplest of tasks are better performed by a group, not because Mexican’s are lazy or less competent than anyone else. They don’t work in groups because they MUST, but because then CAN.

The other factor we couldn’t help but notice was a stark lack of homeless people around the place. You know that alot of people are poor, and it seems like consequently you should see a lot more beggars, bums sleeping on sidewalks, and all that.

Not in our town.

We posed the question to an American who has lived in the area for 20 years and he promptly replied “It’s because family bonds are so strong here. If you end up on the street, whether it’s a grandparent, a second cousin, or even an in law, SOMEONE will take you in.”

Family comes first. You look after them and you are confident that in the same situation, someone would look after you.

It applies equally to one’s treasures and one’s burdens.

If a taxi driver finds a fun little game to play, flicking a coin on to a rock to help kill time in between taxi shifts, he lets the other drivers know about it too, and they all play together. If you have to waste your one day off work fixing a roof, there’s a buddy who knows that pain and is happy to help shoulder that burden with you.

It’s the unending desire to be connected in this country, whether to family, community, or friends. It’s clear that for the majority, the desire (perhaps the need) to be a part of something greater supersedes the western allure of individualism, the “going it alone”, “don’t need no one/nobody” mindset.

It makes for a delightful culture; particularly if you’ve come from one of the developed nations to which it poses such a contrast. It’s one of the many unique things you come to love about being here; something I know I’ll never forget.

Elysia and I started a fun little travel game recently when we decided to see if we could visit each of the top 20 restaurants in Puerto Vallarta according to TripAdvisor.com

As yet we’re only half way but it’s certainly lead us to some special spots and allowed us many a lasting memory. Here’s a short list of brief mentions from the adventures – a more full list to come!

The highest up the list we’ve hit is number 3 – called El Bacalao. This was a place we walked past almost every day for months and almost never gave a second glance. A completely unassuming place, which from the outside seems only to serve seafood. (large pictures of fish adorn the walls, it’s decoration is mostly blue, and the signs are all for Ceviche, Camaron, Pescado and all the other Spanish words I’ve come to know mean seafood)

Fortunately we got the tip from a nearby barman and were enlightened as to the insanity of the Arrachera steak strips that come with a cheese, herb and pineapple gravy, all served in a lava rock dish, to be had with the ubiquitous tortilla. Suffice it to say that after consuming this meal – it took but 3 days before I was overcome by it’s taste haunting my memory and we were back for more.

Next honorable mention is number 8 on the list, Joe Jack’s Fish Shack. Actually just a few doors down from the aforementioned, this was another place that after our first meal, could not resist returning to within 3 days (No, actually… this one it was 2 days). What haunted memories this time (Elysia’s) was the succulence of a Mexican BBQ Chicken dish, grilled and marinated to moist and flavorful perfection.

I also had the signature Red Snapper cooked in garlic and herbs which did in no way disappoint. Oh AND… it has a gorgeous rooftop terrace to boot.

Next up, at number 9 on the list, Barcelona Tapas. I didn’t intend this post to have such a theme but in fact, this is another of the restaurants we’ve been forced to return to for a second helping after a top notch first experience. Barcelona Tapas just impresses right from the complimentary entre – a warm garlic potato salad that while completely simple, is a taste sensation.

Whether you want to try the Spanish delicacy Paella, or some killer tender beef skewers, BT will fulfill your desires. And talk about a setting. Sitting back up the hill about 5 blocks from the beach, this restaurant has hands down (that we’ve seen so far) – the best view of any in the bay.

If you’ve got a rad Vallarta restaurant you think should be on the list, let us know!

Plenty more to come…

After 3 months in Vallarta, Elysia and I are beginning to take our Mexican food sparingly. Having eaten so much of it we’ve tended to hunt out the other cuisine options of late, if for no other reason than to keep things interesting.

Fajita Republic was a restaurant just off Olas Altas at the very beginning of Basilio Badillo that while always looking popular and interesting on the inside, we’d so far passed up for the aforementioned reason. Fortunately last night we decided to change our minds.

This place impressed us in almost every way that a restaurant can impress.

We loved the atmosphere: open air, the cool bamboo lamp type things creating a perfectly dim light, and the music was (for us RnB lovers) killer! (easy going RnB tunes from 2000-2009).

The food turned out to be Mexican but with enough combinations and variations to make it very interesting, among them our entre, Mayan Cheese Sticks – a cheese stick served in a delicious herb + soup/gravy type broth that you eat with sour cream and salsa, rolled in a tortilla! Yes, a calorie feast to be sure, but worth every extra wasteline millimeter!

For mains, we sampled the “falling off the bone” BBQ ribs, buffalo wings, and a mixed Mexican plate that had quesadilla’s, chicken enchilada’s, Carne Asada, guacamole, and more.

My ribs were (as I described at the time) meat flavor and tenderness: 8/10 – BBQ sauce: 6/10 – could have a little extra flavor. Elysia found the buffalo wings to be a little light on meat although they were voluminous enough to compensate (big enough serving) and our friend’s Mexican plate was delicious from taco to tortilla.

After dinner we took the waiter’s recommendation of a shot called “German Chocolate Cake” which, containing, Vodka and Frangelico plus a sugared lime to suck afterward, was surprisingly creamy and awesome.

Finally, maybe even the BEST part about Fajita Republic is the price! For the kind of place and the area it is, we were ready to pay a LOT more, some notable samples being: $114 pesos (now only 10 USD) for my plate of ribs (even at Chilli’s you pay $180 and these ribs were MUCH better), FREE White Russian after dinner drinks, and free special nacho plate with our entre. All up for 3 of us, an entre, 2 drinks each and 3 mains we paid about $70 USD before tip… just ridiculous!

If you’re considering Fajita Republic, we say DEFINITELY go for it.

I really only wanted to write a post about this because trying to find the “Peninsula Mall” in Puerto Vallarta on a map was like trying to solve a Rubik’s cube blindfolded.

So first comment: Don’t look this place up on Google Maps. It seems to tell you that there are 2 locations, or better yet, 1 location that’s not actually where the place is. Gmaps says it’s right up near the airport but actually it’s just south of Walmart.

It’s quite a new mall, and is located on Francisco Medina, the main road through that part of town, in the North hotel zone, right next to Hotel Krystal. (if you tell a cab driver Hotel Krystal, you’ll get to it). If all else fails, you could walk to it (south) from Walmart depending on the time of year and your tolerance to sweatyness.

The mall is pretty decent. It’s a very American mall complete with Starbucks and Chilli’s, a good place to go to quell your home sickness while on vacation. There’s Theirry’s Steakhouse also, which we’re yet to visit but seems to be popular, and a handful of banks and boutique clothing shops for all the ladies.

Don’t be afraid of the soldiers guarding the toilets with AK-47′s either, they won’t bother you unless you forget to wash your hands…

Anyway, just wanted to put this out there quickly because I didn’t see anything about this in Google when I searched either. Hopefully now I can fix that!

I’m one of those people for whom breakfast is my favorite meal of the day. I’d have no qualms eating breakfast meals (like eggs benedict) for either breakfast, lunch, OR dinner.

Thus it was to our delight to discover what is apparently “the oldest ONLY breakfast restaurant” in Puerto Vallarta… the Pancake House located on Basilio Badillo, about 4 blocks back from the beach in old town Vallarta.

It really doesn’t take many words to sum up the awesomeness of the Pancake House, to which we’ve returned already on 2 consecutive Sunday mornings with plans to make it 3.

It’s like a less tacky, far more authentic, better atmosphere and setting kind of Mexican IHOP.

I can probably portray it accurately with a few single sentences. Such as:

3 plain pancake stack for 35 pesos ($3) – syrup of course unlimited and with some banana and watermelon on the side…

Unique pancakes like “Oh Henry” flavor… “Peanut Butter And Banana” flavor… and many more.

Epic Eggs Benedict with Canadian Bacon (haven’t found this bacon anywhere else yet) (Canadians: you know what I’m talking about)

Nice setting: polished wooden tables, semi outdoor, plant surrounded, naturally lit atmosphere.

If that’s not enough to get you to spend the probably $10 total that it’ll cost you for breakfast there… I don’t want to be your friend.

You’ll find it plenty busy, perhaps even challenging to get a table at the wrong time on a Saturday or Sunday morning, but even after a short wait, you’ll leave the Pancake House fulfilled, probably (if you’re like me) experiencing the beginnings of a sugar crash, and happy you went.

Technorati Tags: Puerto Vallarta Restaurants

I often tell Elysia how I think driving is one of my innate skills at life. I continue by bragging that I’ve driven in 6 different countries, both sides of the road, manual (stick) and automatic, off road and on.

Nonetheless, the drive from San Sebastian Del Oeste, up the mountain to La Bufa (one of the highest points in Mexico), in our tiny 4 cylinder rental car proved to be not only my most challenging drive, but one of our favorite adventures of all time.

Fortunately we were lucky enough to find ourselves the night before getting shamefully drunk with the owners of a local bar in San Sebastian. I say fortunately because (two of the nicest guys we’ve ever met) they also offered to show us around the town the next day and importantly, guide us on the drive up the mountain to La Bufa.

We were narrowly able to avoid the reality of me driving with the two of them, one with a daughter, and our friend Rachel crammed needlessly into the 3 seats in the rear of the vehicle; as would have been the ever common Mexican custom.

Setting out, it seemed easy enough. We edged slowly along the cobblestone paths of the town, through quiet old streets, past quaint little homes with ladies hanging their washing, clearly proud of their modest piece of terra firma, having been in the family for generations.

But soon we hit the real mountains. What we drove on from there and for the next hour and a half was… It’s hard to describe it as a road… Let’s say a windy, one lane track of loose rock, complete with ruts, ditches, minor water crossings, and of course no guard rails or safety precautions of any kind. Safe to say it was more than once during the drive that Elysia cursed our decision to do so.

For both passenger and driver the voyage is a strange emotional quagmire too; your minds being torn between the extremes of fear at the blatantly imminent danger on one end, and the joy of the increasingly beautiful scenery on the other end. For the higher you climb, the more of the mountain scape and the scenery of the towns below begins to present itself to you.

But to discuss the drive for this whole article would be a crime. Suffice it to say that after a few tire spins, a couple of minor stoppages, and some masterful maneuvering (had to say it), we made it to the summit of La Bufa. I believe too (ego aside) that anyone who wanted to make this drive could do so too.

La Bufa was named, as we learned as a result of some onomatopoeia; “Bufa” supposedly being akin to the sound of the passing wind you’ll both hear and feel as you sit atop the summit.

Reaching the summit after a short walk from the end of the road, provides you with a 360 degree view of the surrounding valley, and a good part of the entire western side of Jalisco. On a clear day you can see right out to the ocean, a true spectacle to behold.

Once at the top, it’s hard to do much more than sit in awe. You can stroll from one side of the lookout to the next, taking in the view from all angles. Alternatively, you can laze in the sun, basking on the rocks like a lizard, and take in the crisp freshness of the clean mountain air. After all, whatever you do at the La Bufa summit will be memorable.

You’ll also be able to look back down at the village of San Sebastian from whence you came, and get a sense for how small and nestled into the hills it really is.

Depending on the weather on the day you’ll either feel like you’re hovering above the clouds, floating amongst the rolling hills, or simply sitting perched like an eagle overlooking it’s territory.

Sadly, eventually you’ll have to depart La Bufa and all it’s beauty to come (quite literally) back down to earth. I’ll always remember a parting thought I had as we began to traverse: “Maybe like life, alot of the beauty of an experience like this comes from the inevitable fact that eventually it will have to end”.

La Bufa is something you should certainly take in if you’re visiting San Sebastian, and I dare say, something that’s worth making the drive out for no matter where in Vallarta you’re staying.

Surely an experience we’ll never forget.

Check out some more of our photos below

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Technorati Tags: Puerto Vallarta, San Sebastian del Oeste

I don’t mean like, the only one worth going to, I mean… the only one period.

As you might have already seen, Elysia and I are freaks for Indian food. We’ve eaten Indian food from Manila to Montreal. We love it.

Because of this, we were disappointed to learn that in the whole of Puerto Vallarta, there was not one single Indian restaurant to satisfy our cravings. That was, until about a week ago.

As fate would have it, while checking out our soon to be new apartment in the Old Town Vallarta area, we saw the sign for “Casa de Tandoor – coming soon!” Could it be that just as we move to this new place, an Indian restaurant opens up a couple hundred meters walk from our door? Law of attraction type stuff or pure chance?

I don’t know and I don’t care because not only does Casa de Tandoor fill the need for Indian food in the Vallarta area… it sets a pretty freakin’ high standard doing it!

The restaurant, situated at 356 Olas Altas Street Colonia Emiliano Zapata in downtown Vallarta (see map) is small and with only a handful of tables on the streetfront, it’s equally well enjoyed as take-away.

The menu is compact, focusing on expertly preparing a short list of Indian favorites with just enough difference to make it interesting. But the way they do it, is where Casa stands out.

Not expecting much on our first meal, purely happy to be eating Indian again, we were shocked when we saw the chef preparing our Naan bread in house, from scratch! From there on, we expected great things and weren’t disappointed. The Naan for me was perfect; soft on the inside and that gentle almost pastry like crunch on the outside… a view I shared with the restaurant owner only to receive a reaction that seemed to indicate his wonderment that such a gay description of his Naan had come from an evidently straight mouth.

Next we got our curries; my all time fave Butter Chicken. The food arrived in record time but as we learned, not because it had been pre-prepared, just because they’ve only recently opened and are still relatively quiet. Even better, right?

The quality? Muy bien mis amigos!

It turns out the owners also imported a real Indian Tandoor oven and the chicken that comes out of those things… REAL butter chicken… I’d recognize it anywhere.

The sauce was tasty but not too spicy, the chicken perfectly tender and sliced into thin chunks. As far as the simplicity of butter chicken goes, it’s hard to ask for much more. If I’m being super critical I’d say the sauce could do with a little extra creaminess and as is my personal preference a little greater quantity for the all important Naan dipping but in no way was this a source of complaint on the meal.

Oh, and I almost forgot to mention: For 85 pesos (just under $8 USD), a butter chicken comes with EVERYTHING. You get two enormous pieces of Naan, and rice, and salad. You don’t need to order or pay extra for any of those normal sides. How can you not love that? This being the case means Elysia and I eat until we can’t eat no more, for about $20 USD in total before tip.

If there’s one downside to this place it’s the unfortunately small seating area. There are only a handful of tables on the streetfront (that is, in total) and it’s possible you’ll have to opt for take away on the busy nights of the week. Because the guys are just getting started and because the popularity of this place will surely grow, the small seating area has the potential to become more of an issue.

Anyway, the verdict: Whether you just want an Indian fix while on your holiday to Vallarta or you are a high level Indian food lover, Casa de Tandoor will not disappoint. This is our favorite new restaurant in the area and if you do end up stopping by, it’s likely you’ll see us pigging out.

UPDATE April 24th: Went back to Casa tonight and had the special Lamb Vindalu (hope that’s the right spelling) – Absolutely delicious! A mild, sweet, thick curry with tender spiced lamb and potato. Also includes the Naan and rice as normal. Can’t say enough good things about the food at this place

Let’s start this one with some geography.

Los Arcos is the famous rock structure that sits out in the water, not too far off the shore at the south end of Puerto Vallarta’s bay.

It’s most famous for it’s snorkeling tours, so to discuss Los Arcos is to discuss it’s snorkeling.

Getting to Los Arcos on one of the tours means first making a booking at any one of the tour companies you can find either online or at hundreds of locations around Vallarta… trust me, you won’t miss them

Whichever tour company you choose, you’ll depart either from the Vallarta Marina, or the Malecon on a scenic ride of about half an hour down the bay before you arrive at Los Arcos.

This part is actually the underrated near highlight of the trip. Making your way down the coastline on a clear morning offers a perfect view of the Sierra Madre mountains rising up into the mist in the backdrop of downtown Vallarta.

Continuing further south you bear witness to the houses and hotels on the hill at the picturesque Conchas Chinas. You can pick out your “dream house”, and marvel at the precision of the hill built homes that remain sometimes precariously in place no matter the weather.

Finally the ride comes to an end as you approach the looming rock structure, watching it grow ever larger than it appeared in the pictures the closer you get. Then it’s time for the snorkeling.

Even if NOT for the boat ride, the snorkeling at Los Arcos, in it’s own right, is certainly worth the money and the ride out and for a number of reasons.

1. Snorkeling at Los Arcos, you won’t have trouble seeing fish… lots of them. After you dive in the water, your tour guides will start throwing fish food out into the water and before you know it you’ll have fish of multiple shapes and sizes frolicking about you, brushing your arms and legs. Even if it’s not technically “natural” because the fish were induced to come near you, the experience of wading through full schools of hungry fish is a special one.

2. The scenery. Paddling your way around the rocks also makes for a unique snorkeling adventure. You can chance your luck seeking out new species of fish in different areas of the rock structure as you take in it’s full scope from all possible angles. If you get the right day you should also be able to do so without being totally incapacitated by the number of other tourists sharing the journey.

3. Variety. Depending on the tour you choose, your boat will make at least 2 stops at different points at the rock structure offering different underwater architecture and supposedly a little variety in the species you see. Even at our first stop at the front of the largest main rock, the number of fish species was not too bad. While I couldn’t tell you the names, there were grand old types with their grumpy faces and backs shining with orange and blue, small, slender skinny types with sharp sword like mouths, and little black and gold types utilizing their speed to dart in and out steal bread from their bigger grandfatherly counterparts.

The tours last a few hours. At first I wondered whether that would be too short, but as it turns out it’s just enough time to see all the fish and all the scenery you can and make your way there and back without getting bored or seasick.

Regardless of how long you’re in Vallarta, the Los Arcos experience is unique and one you must not miss.

Technorati Tags: Puerto Vallarta Tours