Highway 200 And Puerto Vallarta

Highway 200 goes all the way to Guatemala down the Pacific Coast of Mexico. It’s a libre two lane road winding through mountains and along beaches, and some of it resembles Big Sur winding along plunging cliff faces while in other stretches it crosses river deltas and finds its way through bucolic farmland. 

We drove most of Highway 200 last year and I’d do it again if we didn’t have different plans. A decade ago the cartels had a turf war along the Michoacán stretch and consequently you’ll hear from endless numbers of critics who say it’s a dangerous drive. Maybe it is but for me it’s a scenic wonder. Our greatest peril is running into farm stock: 

And yet having said all that I was not looking forward to Highway 200 to Puerto Vallarta. From last year I remembered terrible road surfaces, heavy traffic and lashings of rain all of which combined to make me dread the drive from our campground in Tepic to the big city. 

As you can probably guess this year we had an easy drive in perfect weather. Which is not to say the traffic was light. Indeed we got caught up in one long line after another of slow moving vehicles. 

And it kept happening as they are busy replacing the road surface even as they build a four lane bypass to speed traffic into and out of Puerto Vallarta. For the time being this is the main road. Indeed, the only road. 

Puerto Vallarta is a pain in the ass. It’s a major port and center of commerce and tourism but it’s cut off from the rest of Mexico by a huge range of mountains, so far not penetrated by roads and perhaps they never will be, no bad thing in a world covered in cement. 

However this means you are limited in your choices to get around the knot created by the city. So we took the bull by the horns. And because this is Mexico traffic flowed, slowly but easily as we took turns moving into and out of one or another lane restriction. 

Layne started reminiscing about a family vacation she took forty years ago when she was the family chauffeur and they got pulled over for a traffic violation. Her father told her how he used to keep a twenty dollar bill when driving the mean streets of Chicago and he kept the money next to his drivers license to take care of any traffic violations he might incur. This is a common belief among North Americans driving Mexico even today but so far we have yet to experience any request for a bribe. Giant cruise ships, below, of the absurd size they want to bring to Key West: 

Then Layne started talking about that vacation in old Puerto Vallarta a part of the city she made sound enticing, and then we came upon it: 

It was actually prettier than I managed to capture in our few minutes driving through. Apparently there was a road closure and Google sent us through the old city. 

It was a long slow winding drive, not unpleasant or stressful as traffic moved forward without drama. 

The cobbles were a nuisance as they cause GANNET2 to bounce in a manner not much enjoyed by the occupants. This was a far call from the hustle and rush of the more familiar four lane waterfront. 

This is decidedly gringo town. Everywhere we looked we saw non Mexicans on the sidewalks. 

And then we were out of it and back on Highway 200 winding along the waterfront high above the ocean on a cliff lined with expensive homes and condos and hotels. 

It reminded me of the French and Italian rivieras though perhaps if I went back there now I might see less of a resemblance. Who knows how developed those areas are now! 

There are inclusive resorts and hotels and finally a freshly paved road ruined of course by innumerable topes! 

In case you were in any doubt English is spoken here. Bring dollars. 

And then it was back to Highway 200 south of Puerto Vallarta. Great scenery and food stops! 

A pick up full of corn, you’d think there was a joke there: 

We stopped for a jug of water to top off our 30 gallon tank in preparation for our week at the beach. The siphon system suggested by Bruce in Arizona, last year works a treat. 

Layne went hunting for fruit armed with her camera, a long lens pocket Panasonic ZS200: 

Boiled corn with chili peppers, below. I always ask for moderate peppering of my food, “estilo gringo” because I tell them I’m not a Mexican. I have to admit I can’t keep up with the levels of heat they enjoy. Boiled corn I find is much tastier than roasted. 

Not Starbucks but delightfully rustic set in the pine forests at the top of the hill. 

I took Rusty for a walk up the hill under the pines, my favorite kind of tree. 

I love Mexican road food. It’s all a surprise but sometimes you get a good one. This was a toasted sandwich made of puff pastry more or less filled with ham, melted cheese and a slice of green pepper not too spicy. 

Layne the intrepid hunter off looking for bargains. A nice break from the long lines of traffic. 

We did finally find the beach at Tenacatita Bay. 

Tepic

Tepic was founded in 1531 and has a few historical buildings to prove it. It’s the capital of Nayarit state with a population of half a million people devoted to industry and agriculture not tourism.  It’s a frantic town with a street layout designed by a committee of urban planners obviously high as kites. The city is filled with random junctions, zig zag intersections and bizarre dead end neighborhoods. 

It took me one day’s shopping trip to realize I do not like driving Tepic. You will hear more horns beeping in Tepic than the rest of Mexico combined for a start and that was a warning. I love driving but a day on the streets of Tepic and I fell asleep when finally we got home, in my camp chair, in the middle of my book, so stressed was I by aggressive driving and invisible traffic lights and the practice of running four way stop signs if the intersection looks like it may possibly  be clear. How we didn’t wreck or get rear ended I’ll never know. 

Usually it’s easy to find the three things we were looking for so we left the campground planning a quick  half day doing chores and then an afternoon of rest and repacking before the long haul south through ghastly Puerto Vallarta to a swimming beach at Tenacatita. 

Tepic is the junction for southbound travelers who either turn along the coast and take the crappy Highway 200 jigsaw puzzle to Puerto Vallarta traffic hell or follow 15D inland to the mountains of Guadalajara, a spectacular drive on an excellent highway maintained by Jalisco State but with zero swimming beaches. Crappy potholed Highway 200 for us then! Meanwhile we wanted to get our chores done and we set off looking for a laundry. In traffic. 

There’s something about Tepic I don’t get. It amuses me that one of the scientists responsible for creating the contraceptive pill was born here but aside from that useless piece of information the town doesn’t seem to operate like most Mexican cities. There is a splendid university here. 

But we had the devil’s own job finding a laundry. One listed on iOverlander  was miles away but open. We drove there. It was open and inexpensive, $6 for wash dry and fold for a huge clothes bag. The owner had one arm in a sling since later discovered the cold portion of the program was not quite kosher! That Google maps got lost taking us back there that night was just one more cause for stress. What a drive! 

We got lost hunting for a tortilla maker so we stopped for a fruit juice pick me up. We got one tart lime/cucumber/chia seed and one sweet melon. A dollar each for a quart. Lucky we could store leftovers in our fridge. 

Layne got more vegetables than we could eat for a buck and a quarter. It was 85 degrees out and summery. I thought of all those RVs in the dust in Quartzsite enjoying a cool Arizona winter. Lucky them, they get to enjoy campfire chats with friends, true, but to be warm: priceless.  

Of fresh made-on-the-spot tortillas we found none. We saw two places selling corn but none selling flour which we prefer as they store better. Corn turns to cardboard if not eaten immediately. Eventually we found on Google maps a for sure open flour tortilla shop (tortilleria de harina) on the road out of town where we shall stop when we leave Tepic. 

No tortilla makers? What kind of a place is this? And then we needed water to fill our almost empty 30 gallon tank. We like to buy purified water which costs ridiculously little for us but seems unfair for Mexicans who can’t trust their own tax funded municipal water supplies to be clean enough to drink. 

Apparently everyone gets their water delivered in this town. iOverlander app to the rescue but it took me a while to explain I wanted him to fill the five gallon jugs (US 60 cents each) and let me siphon them one by one into my tank as I carry no jugs of my own. He got it figured and all went smoothly.

In addition to a conventional hose filler on the side of GANNET2 I had Custom Coach put in a filler at the back so I can siphon water when we travel outside the US or Canada. I put the jug on the bed and use a siphon hose I had on my boat. Fifteen minutes and we were done. At last we had our 25 gallons and for the low, low price  of three bucks. 

After all that running around and shopping Mexican style please note we had refried beans and chorizo tofu for lunch, decidedly not Mexican at 3:30bin the afternoon of an already long day.  I passed out. 

At five we left the campground and that was when Google got us lost on our way back to our cleaned and half folded laundry. The cherry on a shit sundae of a day. We groped around the industrial outer suburbs of Tepic for a while with me swearing indiscriminately at Google, motorcycles, pedestrians, stop signs and topes, but eventually we found our lost laundry in a black mood and got back to camp at dusk unmolested. 

Eduardo met us at the gate and enquired how our day was. After we concluded our lamentations he looked at us with pity in his eyes. 

My wife Laura can do your laundry as we have our machines. And there is a water bottling plant round the corner and I can get it delivered any time you want. All you had to do was ask.