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Sand in my dominoes
By Theodor Grossman.
Sayulita, Nayarit© 2003 Theodor Grossman
Internet Access:
Above "Doc's Restaurant". Fast, satellite connection, friendly service. English spoken.Laundry:
At the Bungalows" or 1 block toward town from the river and 1 block toward beach from main street.Groceries:
Largest selection at grocery across from town plaza.Public telephone:
Next to Argentine restaurant near town plaza and across from grocery store.Etc. . . . .
"We're full" said Cristina, the small, dark-haired woman with glasses. My wife Martha and I had just pulled into the "Sayulita Bungalows and Trailer Park". It had been a long, winding drive down the Pacific coast of Mexico from Mazatlan. We were tired and disappointed to hear that we couldn't stop and settle for the night. "But talk to my husband. Maybe he can do something." Cristina's husband's name was Tees. He was a large, white-haired man in sandals, an ironed, white short-sleeved shirt, and shorts held up with suspenders. Tees came to our rescue. "Park over there for tonight, and we'll see what we can do tomorrow" were his welcomed words.
Thus began our stay in the small beach-front village called Sayulita. We had been here 10 years ago, but only for an afternoon's visit from Puerto Vallarta. It was smaller in those days, but captured our imagination even then. A small central square, narrow cobblestone streets, small tiendas, rudimentary shops, and open-air restaurants made Sayulita like so many other towns on the Mexican "Gold Coast". But there was more: the smell of the salt air, the lapping of the waves at the beach, the roosters crowing, and the fishermen at their boats cleaning their catch.
We strolled to the center of town every day. Through the gates to the "Bungalows" we would walk down the dirt street. "Buenos dias", we would greet the women who were splashing water from pails onto the roadway to keep the dust down. Early in the morning, we would see children in their uniforms walking to school. Shopkeepers began their day raising the metal security curtains over their storefronts with a clatter. A right hand turn toward town would take us past the veterinarian's clinic. A cock was kept in a cage outdoors, next to the entrance, and a calf was tied up at street-side, awaiting treatment. A woman fried pork rinds over a charcoal fired vat at curbside. Men carried loads of fresh fruit and vegetables from their trucks to the tiendas. The dirt street became cobblestones near a small bridge over a small stream flowing to the ocean. We would hear the sound of clothes being slapped against rocks in that stream as women did their wash. The bright sun in the cloudless blue sky made for deep shadows under the red-tiled roof overhangs, in the deep-set window openings, and behind the irregular, rough building masses. Palm trees waved overhead. Bougainvillea, in red, orange and fuschia, blossomed against wrought iron gates. The days were like that in our rediscovered town.
Located approximately 20 miles north of the well known Mexican tourist destination, Puerto Vallarta, Sayulita appears to be on the verge of major tourist popularity. Gringos (American and Canadian) have found the town. Some have moved here, built or rented houses, established businesses, and settled in for extended stays. Buses from Puerto Vallarta arrive daily, on their rounds of showing tourists the interesting, out-of-the way villages and beaches.
The "Sayulita Bungalows and Trailer Park" may weather development pressures for the next few years. It will certainly feel them soon however. This is an alluring site. . . .
Read the complete article . . .
T. Grossman's Articles
Published monthly. ISSN #1028-9089
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