In 2002 Puerto Vallarta was hit by the edges of a fairly large hurricane. Though no one was killed a large chunk of the waterfront was severely damaged by the storm surge and the gorgeous malecon (seaside walkway area) had to be more or less rebuilt to be safe. Though it’s no longer new to the locals I was curious how the waterfront had changed compared to my memories from my first visit in the late 90s. The answer surprised me…
My past few trips have definitely instilled in me a deep thankfulness for my lack of susceptibility to seasickness. I don’t want to tempt fate by claiming imperviousness but between several sailing trips, a few larger boats in very rough waters and the truly epicly sickmaking journey back in from the great barrier reef it seems as if it takes a fair bit to make me motion sick (at least when I’m not simultaneously heat stroked.) I definitely feel pity for those who feel ill even on the most gentle of crossings as we saw on our way to Rhythms of the Night.
Yet even before hopping the boat for our excursion I got a little thrill. Vallarta Adventures has meet the dolphins adventures on offer. While the marine conservationist in me doesn’t enjoy the fact that these dolphins are in fairly tight captivity and I likely wouldn’t have felt comfortable paying money to do the ‘adventure’ being there at closing time for most of the other tours meant we could sit there and watch as they were fed and played as the day wound down. (Note: I do think aquariums and sea world type attraction when done well are a good thing as a visit to one helps instil a knowledge and understanding of the ocean world in people young and old. I just think if you can’t do it right, don’t do it. That whole area is a discussion for another day though.) Since we had a while til our boat left I sat there and took far too many photos.
Rhythms of the Night is a package tour put on by the biggest tour company of the area that has converted a secluded beach cove formerly owned by Hollywood director John Huston into a private retreat of sorts for their tour groups. It’s apparently only accessible by boat and that’s why we found ourselves on a cruise across Bahia de Banderas as dusk fell. Other than a few minutes as we cleared the harbour the cruise was remarkably gentle yet several of the 40 odd people on our boat were feeding the fish for most of the first half of the cruise. It must have been terrible… not to mention that spending 100+ usd on a package that includes open bar and great food then spending the first half hour spewing kind of sucks. On top of that the boat ride itself had some quite delicious apps and an open bar.
I’m honestly not sure I’m ever going to get married. The fact that a seeming requirement to find me attractive is a diagnosed mental illness doesn’t bode well for the chances of it. I can’t pretend I’ve even thought about the concept of my own personal wedding much. On those occasions when I have, and when I’ve thought about a destination wedding, I think I’ve always assumed it would be small. My parents, her parents, a couple close friends for each of us and done. Ceremony on the beach, nice dinner and drinks, bing, bang, boom. Party at home to follow. Our bride and groom in this case took it up a few levels. I think the final number of guests was somewhere in the 75 person range from all across Canada. In the end the wedding group was big enough that there were usually multiple sub parties going on at all times over the course of the trip.
The wedding itself was performed with the waves rolling in in the background. The hotel had done a lovely job setting things up, though their carefully smoothed sand left us all reluctant to mar the perfection until we saw the bride coming. Rather adorably we were given hand fans with the names of the wedding party. Given how hot it was this little touch was rather appreciated, especially by the few people who had actually worn pants. After a fairly short bilingual ceremony we were all swarmed with waiters bearing cerveza and picture time began.
The sun set spectacularly that night as we ate and drank. The usual speeches and chitchat followed and the dancing began. In the end we had a number of other guests trying to crash the wedding to get in on the dancing and an outside dance floor eventually began near the nearby pool bar. In the end the main party shut down fairly early (it wasn’t far from the rooms of course) but most of the younger crowd continued on in the resort’s little disco/sports bar. I stuck it out for a while but as the team started to dwindle as a day of heat and booze took their toll I headed to bed.
I learned pretty quickly that diving can make a person hungry. When I certified in Australia the cook always had the galley counter filled with sweets and cheese when we came back from a dive. The quick burst of energy from the sugar helps you readjust quickly to the topside world and is especially crucial if you’re diving again in a bit. That’s the route I went on the morning of our dive. A bowl of fruit loops, a couple croissants with jam and some random custard donuty thing. Carb load ahoy! I wanted to avoid my usual omelette though lest I get burpy or worse on the ride across the bay. Besides I’m never that inspired to eat a big breakfast early and this was by far my earliest morning of the trip.
By the time we arrived at the Marina it was still only 8:30ish and the crew was loading the boat for our trip out to into the Bahia de Banderas. Thankfully my friends Chris and Jodi had already been out the week before so I knew it was a good crew. In our case we had our local boat captain Carlos, and British ex-pats Sue (who I believe was the company’s head instructor), other Sue (a relatively new instructor I believe) and Marc. All were knowledgeable as well as chatty and personable. On a sidenote though I do wonder why I seem to always get Brit dive leaders. My pool instructor in Cairns being a Frenchman is the only exception. Also on board were three people from Washington state an experienced diver and his brother in law who was certifying as well as a 16 year old family friend with a regrettable Mike Tyson henna face tattoo. I’m not sure if the young man was certifying or doing a discover scuba dive.
We dove with:
Boat leaves from the Marina Vallarta docks near the Airport. Variety of tours available and discounts for booking online in advance. Private tours available.
Cost: $105 USD for a two dive trip inc. equipment and tanks
My Rating: 5/5
There’s little question in my mind that diving with a smaller crew like this makes for a far superior experience. Horror stories of the big boats leaving someone behind aside you can still feel like part of a swarm. You have no guarantee of partners of similar skill, in fact you may end up in a group of people who take half of your air supply just to get to the bottom of the anchor chain. Add on the fact that you’ll usually have your equipment moved and assembled for you (and in this case even lifted out of the water for you) and I have no idea why you’d go out on one of the cattle boats.
The boat itself was a comfortable 30 odd foot vessel with decent stability and reasonable speed. Despite all the gear on board there was plenty of room for the 10 of us and our personal stuff and the seats were well cushioned for the ride. Mostly importantly for us pale assed northerners there was a canopy to give us some respite from the sun. The trip out of the marina was the usual exercise in yacht gaping that one general indulges in a tropical port. First there were the yachts. Gorgeous forty foot boats, some older but all gleaming and gorgeous. Then came the super yachts with their fancy flying bridges and mounted sea-doo’s. Of course the truly impressive (and outright sickening) mega-yachts came into view soon after that. Ships so large that they contain garages for three jetskis and a launch as big as our dive boat. Ships so large they have smartly uniformed staff cleaning everything in sight and a Robinson on the helipad. In other words ships so large that they cost more than I (and my entire family, any children I might have, and their children as well) will ever make in a lifetime.
Words can’t really describe the unending horror of this winter. As I write this post the temperature is hovering just under the zero and there is a strong chance of flurries at some point over the coming weekend. It is April the sodding 11th, what exactly did we do to deserve this torment? It was inevitable that this winter would be feel harsh after the mild reprieve of 2013, but months of -30 temps and snow quite possibly lingering in spots until May seems like massive overkill on the part of the weather gods.* Is it any wonder then that I was looking forward to this Mexico trip with a slavering anticipation that approached apple fanboy at a new product launch levels?
Anticipation of warm weather, sun and girly drinks (and parlor games) aside, early morning flights are the devil. 4:15 AM wakeup, at the Airport at 5 for an 8 AM flight (also not really necessary imo.) I must say my first experience of the new airport was a mixed bag as well. Everything’s very pretty but also very stupidly laid out. Only restroom in the departure area is at the far opposite end of the hall from the security entrance and the Stella’s café that many people have breakfast at pre-security. This means everyone uses the private stall family restroom located here instead of what it’s actually for. There’s plenty of space for another restroom here but the architects went for style over substance. Oddly enough I ran into my friend Kymberly leaving for another destination wedding at the same time in PV. I’m fairly sure she was even more of a zombie than I was at that point though. The flight itself was quite surprising. I hadn’t flown with Air Transat in probably fifteen years and I was really surprised to walk on to an A310. As far as I can remember it’s the only time I’ve flown on a widebody out of Winnipeg direct. A quick check of Wikipedia tells me that they’re planning to phase out their A310s by the end of next year as well so I suppose I’m way behind the times. I definitely missed having the seat back tvs of all my other recent trips, things are obviously never going to be Air NZ or even Westjet quality on a charter airline though.
