PUERTO VALLARTA is smaller, quieter and younger than Acapulco. In its own way, it is actually every bit as commercial – perhaps more so, since here tourism is virtually the only source of income – but appearances count for much, and Puerto Vallarta, while doing all it can to catch up with Acapulco, appears far less developed and retains a more Mexican feel.
It lies in the middle of the 22-kilometre wide Bahía de Banderas, the seventh largest bay in the world, fringed by endless sandy beaches and backed by the jungly slopes of the Sierra Madre. Its hotels are scattered along several miles of coast with the greatest concentration in Nuevo Vallarta, north of the town and sliced through by an eight-lane strip of asphalt. Just south of Nuevo Vallarta is the new marina, where you can stroll along the boardwalk and have a look at how the other half live, on beautiful boats. Despite the frantic development of the last decade, the historic town centre, with its cobbled streets and white-walled, terracotta-roofed houses, sustains the tropical village atmosphere, an asset assiduously exploited by the local tourist authorities.
The town's relative youth is undoubtedly a contributing factor. Until 1954 Puerto Vallarta was a small fishing village where the Río Cuale spills out into the Bahía de Banderas; then Mexicana airlines, their hand forced by Aeroméxico's monopoly on flights into Acapulco, started promoting the town as a resort. Their efforts received a shot in the arm in 1964, when John Huston chose Mismaloya, 10km south, as the setting for his film of Tennessee Williams' play The Night of the Iguana, starring Richard Burton. The scandalmongering that surrounded Burton's romance with Elizabeth Taylor – who was not part of the cast but came along – is often attributed to putting Puerto Vallarta firmly in the international spotlight: "a mixed blessing" according to Huston, who stayed on here until his death in 1987, and whose bronze image stands on the Isla Río Cuale in town.
It lies in the middle of the 22-kilometre wide Bahía de Banderas, the seventh largest bay in the world, fringed by endless sandy beaches and backed by the jungly slopes of the Sierra Madre. Its hotels are scattered along several miles of coast with the greatest concentration in Nuevo Vallarta, north of the town and sliced through by an eight-lane strip of asphalt. Just south of Nuevo Vallarta is the new marina, where you can stroll along the boardwalk and have a look at how the other half live, on beautiful boats. Despite the frantic development of the last decade, the historic town centre, with its cobbled streets and white-walled, terracotta-roofed houses, sustains the tropical village atmosphere, an asset assiduously exploited by the local tourist authorities.
Twenty miles down the coast, Cabo San Lucas pulses with shops, restaurants, and nightclubs. Those in search of lively beaches, kayak excursions, dancing to the wee hours, sunset cruises, and such will find Cabo San Lucas just their speed. Connecting the two towns is a coastal "corridor," along which lie resorts both grand and intimate and many famous golf courses. One side of the corridor offers endless views of sand and sea, while along the other side is the quiet desert, with the majestic mountains beyond.