Vallarta Bound

Earlier this week, I absconded from California and headed to Mexico. No, not on the lam — I had a proper plan and destination in mind…Puerto Vallarta.

Why Vallarta? Well, a variety of factors made it an easy choice — sunshine, fabled tacos, and employed expats (aka wifi and other infrastructure in place to support me working remotely from my laptop).

I’m renting a studio in the heart of the downtown. It’s less than a five minute walk to the beach, where a boardwalk (“El Malecón”) runs along the the shore. El Malecón is 1.6 km of perfection, ideal for early morning runs and evening people-watching strolls. Does it have grilled street foods? Absolutely. Cold coconut waters? In abundance. Fancy gringo froyo? You betcha.

I’m not heartbroken about the location is what I’m saying.

The first night here, there was a street festival taking place a few blocks away from my place. Stage setup complete with acoustic guitar player, many carousel rides for kiddos, and lots of street snacks.

The second night here, fireworks unexpectedly lit up the bay. Why? Who knows…not I! One second, I’m watching a street performer entertain crowds by floating balloons on the sea breeze. The next moment, there are bright lights and glitzy explosions over the sea.

The hardest part so far is that I’m sticking to my vegetarian guns. Will the amazing smells of tacos al pastor crumble my defenses? Remains to be seen. (But highly likely.)

So far, I’ve scoped out two cafes, three taco stands, and four beaches. Hiked up hills, down to the sand, and across the gringo zones. Tried to practice my Spanish, only to be met with quizzical looks and inquires of “Um…señorita, do you speak English?”