Zihuatanejo 2006

Gerry's cell phone went off at exactly 12:01 AM on March 3rd. I had just drifted into heavy REM sleep. Somewhere in the deepest recesses of my brain I was congratulating myself on getting the first decent nights rest ever before a trip. As the phone played through yet another round of perky ring tones I found myself stumbling across the pitch black bedroom seeking my electronic tormentor. I frantically pushed buttons and across the screen flashed Gerry's newly installed calendar, "VACATION STARTS NOW!". Thanks honey...I sure needed reminding.
We had decided to return, for a third consecutive visit, to Zihuatanejo, Mexico.This small Pacific coastal town is situated approximately 100 miles north of Acapulco in the state of Guerrero, Mexico. The three of us never repeat a trip but Zih is a saucy, sleepy eyed seductress who makes certain from the moment you arrive you are completely taken in.
Voluptuous hills flow down to caress the smooth, aqua skin of Zihuatanejo Bay. A heady, irresistible combination of color, scent and sound work by day to overcome any resistance while hot, steamy Zih nights weaken knees and ones resolve. All winter long Zih sends a persistant call Northward like a lover who won't take no for an answer.
And so, we were back.

We settled in, and after a heated debate as to whether Cindy was allowed to hang up all her clothes before the traditional "First Cervesa in Zih" we took off for downtown. We headed directly to Calle Cinco de Mayo home of Bandidos Restaurante and Bar (
The next day we had breakfast at our favorite place to begin a Zih morning, Salvador's Restaurant. It is an unassuming cafe located by the canal bridge on Adellita. It features outside seating, bargain prices and a parade of some of the most genetically interesting Gatos in town. This years posse of cats seemed to indicate a strong Siamese influence had entered the mix. I am guessing that some Americano Seal Point had gone "Tom Jones" with the local feline population. On this, our first morning in Zih, we sat at our favorite table under the mango tree. Gerry ordered the first of many chilequille breakfasts , Daniel had his customary bacon con huevos and I had a rather generic meal of scrambled eggs and toast. It wasn't that Salvador doesn't offer more intriguing choices but I had vowed this year to 'ease' into the local cuisine. I have a love/hate relationship with Mexican food. I love it - it hates me. After a big meal of chile laced sauces my digestive system stands up and screams Aye Carumba! No, this was going to be the year that didn't happen. I had brought along fresh Acidophilis in my luggage and was going to be carefully monitoring everything I ate. I for saw myself as the grand inquisitor of waiters concerning the picante rating. In fact as the vacation progressed I would sniff, nibble and poke at every meal as if it were laced with cyanide. My regimen was to eat bland, albeit boring, food and spare everyone in my party the daily recitation of my 'gut' update. Breakfast was served. As Gerry and Daniel munched happily away, my plate of scrambled eggs congealed in front of me. I took one more look at Gerry's chilequiles, grabbed his plate and dove in.
Next we took our requisite shopping trip to the Mexicana Commercial and filled the cart with fresh tortillas, cheese, juice and wine. I had my annual Zih tantrum because the guys won't STAT WITH THE CART. As this is a gigantic supermercado, ala Walmart, I spent the majority of my time self-righteously stomping from aisle to aisle looking for two oblivious Americanos. I finally found them stationed at outposts on the opposite end of the store. They were both proudly clutching their treasures, Hot and Spicy Trail Mix and Ritz Crackers, which they insisted were integral elements to the success of our vacation. I couldn't wait to repeat this game of hide-and-go-seek later in our trip at "The Labyrinth" - the maze of shops making up the Mercado . I planned to bring a leash.
Besides the day to day ritual of sunning, swimming and buying trinkets you neither want or need, Zih gives you many opportunities to eat well. Despite my 'gut wars' I eventually let my defenses down, put away the Acidophilis, and looked forward to our evening dinner forays. This year we visited many old favorites and tried new ones too.
Sanka Grill: Usually has Guatemalan music in the evening.. consistent, moderately priced food. El centro Zih
Zorros: A small sports bar in downtown Zih run by a gregarious American. Around the corner from the Hertz rental office. Don know about the food but the cervesa is cold and the owner is a cool guy.
This year we planned to spend half of our time in the small village of Troncones. Located about a 45 minute drive north of Zihuatanejo, it serves as the winter home to many gringos and is known for long empty beaches and surfing. We rented a car as we wanted to have the freedom and means to explore. The day before we left Zih, we drove our newly rented (and embarrassingly flamboyant) PT Cruiser a few miles south to the beach side village of Barra de Potosi. Besides being the location of fashion designer Betsy Johnson's garish Betsyville B & B, it has an exotic meandering lagoon that could easily have been the on-location site of "The African Queen". 


campaigning to visit Saladita, a much ballyhooed surfer's mecca. One afternoon we set out in the C-car and after a few false turns eventually found the long dirt road to Saladita. For a half hour we dodged deep ruts and rocks the size of melons. Finally we came upon a small development of a few homes and some unappealing enramadas. We settled on Jaquelines and ordered a round of cervesa. There seemed to be a large contingent of surfers hanging about all in various stages of ill health. This place reminded me of a visit to Chetumal, a city on the border of Mexico and Belize - Americans walking around coughing..heads hung.. yellow skinned with Hep A or worse. As I scanned the beach I could see it was covered in beer bottle shards, plastic bottles and a lone ripped sun umbrella. The only redeeming quality of this depressing place was the surf. About a quarter mile from shore were huge perfect waves dotted with surfers. After convincing Gerry he risked certain death if he attempted these monsters we finished our drinks and headed back to Troncones.
new spot worth visiting in Troncones is
nother place that I am just "sold on" for food in Troncones is Inn at Manzanillo Bay.. I became addicted to the Papaya/Banana smoothies and Daniel wouldn't dream of starting his day without the 'Surfers Special'. - a homemade waffle and bacon combo. I didn't actually see any surfers order this but I'm sure they would if they weren't up and at the waves so darned early. Gerry was all over the place in terms of the menu but by the time we left he definitely qualified as a star member of the 'Clean Your Plate Club'.
*The resident dog at the beach side Rossy's Restaurant whose sneaky lounge chair territorial antics are infamous - and scary. Daniel's yearly 'dog whisperer" counseling sessions with said dog.
