Boutique Buddies: Beer, Bliss, Puerto Paradise
There was a lot of travel happening in 2018. We visited the Dominican for our anniversary in February, returned to Mexico in September, and the missus had traveled in October on a company FAM trip with the host agency we worked with at that time.
When she returned, she suggested that I take a solo trip somewhere. The idea held about as much appeal as a root canal, so I brushed it off thinking that would end the discussion of travel for 2018.
Famous last words.
The Surprise Travel Deal
Only a few days later, my wife called me in to describe a “fabulous” travel deal she had found for a 7-day all-inclusive to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. She insisted I should go by myself because she had just returned from a trip and would have too much work to accompany me.
I finally had to put my foot down. I refused to go alone. “So find someone to go with you!” she said.
Right. Because everyone in my circle of friends can just drop everything with less than two weeks’ notice. My social calendar isn’t exactly bursting at the seams. “What about Mike?”
I had to stop and think about that. Mike worked as our general contractor friend who we got to know a few years earlier when we owned the brew-your-own-wine shop. His personality and sense of humor had expanded the relationship from “guy who fixes our stuff” into a genuine friendship complete with dinner parties and the kind of stories we shouldn’t repeat in polite company. He worked for himself and stayed busy enough year-round that he made a decent living from it. We could certainly speak to the quality of his work since he’d completed several large projects for us without any mysteriously missing screws or crooked cabinets.
“I’ll give him a call,” I said. “I’ll see how busy he is.”
The Perfect Timing
As it turned out, the dates worked out perfectly. That week he’d spend waiting for a client to source fixtures and materials for an upcoming project. In contractor language, that translates to “getting paid to do absolutely nothing.”
For Mike, being the only person cheaper than me, the ridiculous price for this week in Mexico sealed the deal. We’re talking stupid cheap. Like, “something must have gone wrong with this hotel” cheap. The only potential hangup came from the expiration date on his passport. Two quick trips to Ottawa took care of that problem in time to board the plane at Pearson in the first week of November.
When Smaller is Better
The hotel we stayed at offered a charming little boutique resort not far from the center of Puerto Vallarta and right next to a large marina. Check-in went quickly and easily. We reached our room within minutes. You can say a lot about smaller, boutique hotels. You don’t face a mile-long lineup at check-in behind someone arguing about their “ocean view” room that clearly faces the parking lot. The staff-to-guest ratio runs high, and the atmosphere, or vibe, just feels different.
Our room occupied the ground floor with a sliding patio door leading to a small stone patio. A stone pathway led straight to the pool and pool bar. Gardens filled every space. You could smell the fragrance every time you went outside. It felt like walking through a botanical garden that happened to serve beer.
The room itself looked modest but nice. More importantly, clean. No mildewy smells, no questionable stains, and the A/C hummed at just the right temperature. Not that arctic blast that makes you consider sleeping in a parka, but not that pathetic wheeze that barely moves air around either. This would turn into a good week.
Ten minutes after unpacking, we both threw on swimsuits and headed down the path to the pool. Another nice thing about smaller resorts comes from the smaller crowds. The Flamingo Vallarta Hotel & Marina has only 96 rooms, so as we set up by the pool it felt like we had the place to ourselves. The pool bar turned out to offer a great little outdoor restaurant. We would find our meals for the week there.
We ordered a couple of ice-cold beers and some fries to go with them, parked our asses in loungers and settled in for an entire day of beers and laughter in the pool.
The Freedom of the Buddy Trip
Here’s where I discovered that travelling without the wife can feel pleasantly different. Mike and I talked about things that would hold absolutely no interest for Tina or for Mike’s wife Andrea either. We cursed and swore plenty as we each embellished whatever tale we were telling. No one stood there to give us the look. You know the one. The “really, did you just say that in public?” look. The camaraderie felt comfortable and offered a welcome change from ensuring a gold-star experience for She Who Must Be Obeyed.
Don’t get me wrong, you all know I love my wife with the power of a burning star. But guys, help me out here. Doesn’t a night out with the better half feel way different than a night out with your bestie? Am I right? I think that in the same way, travelling with your wife differs from travelling with one of your buds.
Anyway, we had a great afternoon chilling and catching up and coming down from the long day of travel. Not long after dinner, we both started sawing logs.
Sawing logs. What an apt term in this case.
I had no idea.
The CPAP Situation
In the past, Mike had mentioned the fact that he used a CPAP, but I didn’t keep it top of mind, so I didn’t even notice he hadn’t placed one by his bedside. Let’s just say I had a rough night trying to sleep with the walls and floors shaking from the rumble of the snores coming from the other bed. I’ve heard freight trains that made less noise. I’m pretty sure I felt the bed vibrate at one point.
I mentioned it to him in the morning, trying for diplomatic. “So… you snore.”
He apologized profusely. He hadn’t thought about it and hadn’t bothered to unpack the CPAP from his luggage. He promptly rectified that situation and set himself up for a more peaceful rest of the week. I could finally look forward to actual sleep instead of wondering if the hotel experienced seismic activity.
Authentic Mexican Everything
I’ll say this about the food at Flamingo: authentic describes every meal from breakfast to lunch, to dinner and snacks. Of course the breakfast included eggs, but also featured tamales, fresh fruits, masa, chorizo, corn, refried beans, salsa, pico de gallo, and fresh tortillas. This didn’t match the “Mexican food” that someone who thinks Taco Bell defines authentic cuisine would make. This delivered the real deal. As I said earlier, this would turn into a good week.
The Art of Doing Nothing
While Mike and I had discussed what sort of activities or excursions we might enjoy during our stay, we felt no immediate hurry to book anything or look at options. The simplicity of just enjoying warm weather in a small and cozy “backyard garden/pool/bar” proved really hard to beat.
The music sounded good, the staff all treated us great, and with the awesome food and drink selection, we both thought “why go anywhere else?” We had stumbled into paradise and didn’t see any reason to leave it. On about our fourth or fifth day, we did rouse ourselves from our sloth-like states and took a bit of a walking tour around the marina area. Lots of restaurants and bars beckoned. We stopped and had tequila shots and some great fish tacos for lunch at one such establishment. The original plan to tour Puerto Vallarta kind of went right out the window.
We had become professional relaxers.
Checking In With the Better Halves
We spent evenings poolside as well. After a great Mexican meal with a beer in hand, we would both reach out to our better halves to brief them on the terrible time we endured. We explained how lucky they felt to have skipped this because they wouldn’t have enjoyed it at all. Neither spouse fell for that bit of malarky, but they understood we just wanted to make sure they didn’t feel we had a good time without them. Because we absolutely did.
When Not Exploring is Actually Perfect
I must say that this trip to Puerto Vallarta stands as the only time I can remember going away and NOT exploring. The week ended without taking a single excursion. We didn’t even go to the beach! For someone who usually carries an itinerary that would make a cruise director weep, this felt revolutionary. It turned out to offer a great week of simply relaxing with a best bud and shooting the shit for days on end.
Our limited experience of Puerto Vallarta felt no less amazing. The people we encountered, the food and drinks, the music, and the general atmosphere of the hotel itself provided all of the sensory experiences our bodies and minds required at that time. Sometimes you don’t need to see every attraction. Sometimes you just need cold beer, good food, and someone who thinks your jokes land funny.
Tina and I would return to Puerto Vallarta together a few years later, and Mike would join both of us and another couple in yet another Mexican vacation after that. But this time, the best of what makes Mexico gave me and my good friend everything we needed.
If you’re planning a trip to Mexico, don’t pass up Puerto Vallarta. And if you want a change from the big chain hotel experience, try the Flamingo Vallarta Hotel & Marina. It won’t disappoint. Just maybe bring earplugs if your travel buddy forgot to mention they snore like a hibernating bear.
Cheers!
LOL. I can’t believe my snoring kept you awake. I’ve never had anyone say that before.
You left out the morning we packed up to go to the beach and never made it past the front desk. I like to tell people that story.
“Bill and I had spent the first few days without leaving the hotel area. We moved from our ground level room to the open air restaurant 30 meters away, and then to the lounge chairs by the pool. Dinner hour would roll around and we’d head back to the room to throw on some appropriate clothing, then shuffle back to the restaurant. One would think that this would be boring, however it was anything but.
The hotel was on the edge of a marina, so there was no direct access to the beach. We had discussed going to the oceanside for a day but the plan didn’t materialize, primarily because it required a modicum of planning, and we both seemed to have turned that completely unnecessary function off.
I’ve always been intrigued by the salty ocean, and swimming in it is quite novel for me, having spent a lifetime surrounded by nothing but fresh water lakes and rivers. The thought of traveling thousands of kilometers to a tropical destination and not at least dipping my toes in the Pacific gave me a small pang of guilt and led me to suggest to Bill (or listen to his suggestion;I can’t recall who’s idea it was) to take the shuttle bus to the beach.
We woke up one morning, shuffled the 30 metres to the restaurant for breakfast, went back to the room, stuffed everything we thought we would need into a beach bag, and then shuffled to the front desk to wait for the shuttle bus.
The only problem was, the bus had left 20 minutes earlier, and the next one was in two and a half hours. What where we to do? Taxi? Nah, too expensive. Walk? Too far. We’d just have to wait for the next bus.
We carried our beach bags back to the poolside and had more coffee. Then it was starting to get hot in the sun, so we went in the pool to cool off. A couple Ojo Rojos somehow appeared (it’s a Mexican cocktail similar to a spicy Bloody Mary, but with beer instead of vodka). Then a couple more arrived. Then lunch was being served. Then the decision was reached to abandon the beach trip entirely.
We rationalized this by reminding ourselves that we had everything we needed in front of us, except the sand and the salty water. We couldn’t do much about the sand, but the Ojo Rojos glasses had plenty of salt on the rims.”
Bill, I also recall the lead up to the trip differently.
“I was putting my tools into my truck after finishing another job at Bill and Tina’s place. I believe it was on a Friday afternoon. Bill was helping load, and we were chatting about nothing in particular.
Tina emerged from the house in a somewhat rushed manner, and the two of them exchanged words in regards to airfares or deals of some sort. I had no clue of the context, but since they are both travel agents, this was in no way out of the ordinary, and I wasn’t really paying attention. Tina became agitated, and Bill was defiant. Being good friends with them, I know them both quite well, but it’s best sometimes to keep your nose out of things.
After some back and forth between them, Tina turns to me and says, “Wanna go to Mexico?”
“Um, what?” I replied.
“Mexico. With Bill. I can’t go and he won’t go by himself.”
I paused and said, “I can’t afford to go on a Mexican vacation.”
“It’s crazy cheap last minute all inclusive. You’ll never see a price like this again. Puerto Vallarta.”
I felt a bit like I was being subjected to high pressure sales tactics, coming at me out of left field.
“How much is crazy cheap?” I asked, and she told me the price. “Yeah, that is cheap. But so am I.”
“When was the last time you took a vacation, huh? And Bill needs a vacation too, and you should go with him ”
“When exactly is the departure date?” I asked.
Tina says, ” Next Saturday.”
Feeling like I’d dodged a bullet, I thought I had an easy out. My passport had long ago expired.
Tina says, “You’ve got time. They have an expedited service. It just costs more. Oh, and you’ll have to drive to the passport office to do it. And you need to get there when it opens, or you’ll be stuck in an hours long queue.”
The closest passport office is 250km away, so it was going to be a minimum five hour ordeal, with the passport office as a wildcard in the mix. The devil is always in the details, and the initial intrigue and the high pressure sales had lost some of its steam.
“I’ll have to think about it.”
“It’s going to sell out. You need to decide.” The pressure tactics were back on.
I texted my spouse-like unit to tell her that Bill wants me to go to Mexico with him. Her response was, “Cool. Have fun!”
I caved and told Tina, “Okay, I’ll go”
On Monday I drove to the passport office and arrived 15 minutes after it had opened. I was confused as to what was going on, since there were several people behind a counter, and a few people sitting in a waiting area. I asked the security guard where is the line to renew passports, and he pointed and said, “Right over there.”
“Where? I don’t see any the line.”
“There isn’t one. You are the only person.” I was gobsmacked. I’d never been to a government office in my life and not had to stand in a queue.
In the end, I’m glad I made the decision to go. We had an absolutely amazing time.