I was fortunate last August to be invited to spend a few days at the quaint Posada Casa Milagro in Yelapa, a remote little village about 40 kms southwest of Puerto Vallarta. Getting there was an adventure in itself. After the 5-hour drive to PV we headed south along the coast for 20 minutes to Boca de Tomaltan and caught a boat taxi to Yelapa. It seems there are no good roads to the peaceful little village. It was early afternoon and there must have been a storm out in the Pacific, it was a pretty rough ride. I made the mistake of sitting on the front bench. I wanted a good view and couldn't understand why everyone was crowding into the back, until we got going. The trip reminded me of the mechanical bull rides that were popular back in the 70s; the bench didn't have the luxury of a leather saddle. I was relieved when we arrived at the little town dock in Yelapa. That evening I enjoyed the sunset on the patio sitting on a well-padded chair.
The next morning just before dawn I'm sitting on a terrace about 100 meters above the Pacific gazing down at the little village. The roosters were crowing as fishing boats moved about the small bay. There about twenty small boats anchored in Yelapa Bay, a few with signs of activity aboard - night fishermen coming in to the town pier and a few boats heading out. Soon the first Water Taxi arrives, picks up an early commuter and quickly heads off to PV. Soon another taxi pulls up to the dock, half-full of people from down the coast. Four or five young men and women - dressed in white shirts and dark slacks or skirts - and a few teenagers carrying book bags jump in. The Water Taxi docks for less than a minute. There are no cars or buses in Yelapa and no High School.
As the sun comes up, the fishermen are working the waters a few hundred meters from the mouth of the larger of two rivers that flow into the tranquil bay. Some men are tossing nets while others are bottom fishing with hand lines. Another Water Taxi comes and goes in a flash.
I tour the village with Antonia, the owner of the Posada Casa Milagro, and her husband, Hugo. After the climb down the hill it took us about an hour to get to the little river bridge. Antonia hadn't been here in about a month and had to chat with all her friends and family, that means everyone we passed on the narrow walkways winding through town. Hugo and I leave Antonia at her niece's house, they are chatting a mile a minute and munching on fresh fish.
We wander through the "streets", since there are no cars here the "streets" are about two meters wide - some paved or cobbled. They seem to meander with no rhyme nor reason. Hugo knows every street and evidently everybody in town.
We reach the big rain swollen river; follow some horse tracks into the cool, clear river. Although I gasp as the water reaches my crotch it feels good on my bruised backside. As we approach the bank I notice a group of local women washing clothes.
This is the tourista side of the bay. But this is the slow season; the locals don't show much enthusiasm in their hustling to take us fishing, snorkeling or rent horses and mules. After checking out a few hotels in town we wave a boat over to shore and zip across the bay for $20 pesos; it's worth it to save the sweat.
Life is slow and calm here, the locals are warm and friendly, always smiling and laughing. I have slipped into a tranquil, mellow kind of mood. The Yelapa lifestyle seems to have seeped into me. I stop and smell the roses without any forethought.
I want to try some fishing and diving, maybe mañana. I'll take a siesta and think about it later. Mañana may come too soon, but hopefully there will always be another mañana in Yelapa.
For information about Yelapa on the net, type "welcome + yelapa" on Google or Yahoo.
