Mexico -- Getting Past Gringos In Puerto Vallarta

PUERTO VALLARTA, Mexico - The gringos have arrived, big time, and it's not a very pretty sight.

During my recent eight-day stay in this sunny paradise, I didn't know who to be more frustrated by: Elizabeth Taylor who first brought publicity to Puerto Vallarta in the mid-1950s, or developers who've drastically altered the character of this once sleepy seaside village on Mexico's West Coast.

It's remarkable how the town has changed since 1982, when I arrived via cruise ship for a daylong visit. Back then, there was one stoplight and about 40,000 residents. A few low-rise condominiums were going up, but basically it was a small town with a true Mexican flavor.

In several subsequent visits, I noticed the rapid alterations, especially at the airport and nearby marina. Large tourist hotels were sprouting, and the construction crane seemed to be the new symbol of Puerto Vallarta.

On my most recent visit a month ago, I was amazed at what the boom had brought: my first sights driving in from the airport were Denny's and McDonald's. High-rise hotels and condominiums were everywhere.

Downtown, on the seaside Malecon, the changes were even more pronounced. The building that housed a cozy restaurant was gone, replaced by a Hard Rock cafe with a Cadillac fin bursting from the entrance overhang. Nearby were Gucci, Benetton, Guess, Kentucky Fried Chicken, Domino's Pizza and 7-Eleven.

Had I ever left the U.S.? Has the flavor of Puerto Vallarta vanished, as in the mega-resort destinations of Ixtapa and Cancun?

Luckily, the shock lessened as the airport van took us over the Rio Cuale, the river separating Puerto Vallarta north and south. Sure, there were some condominiums and new buildings, but the cobblestone streets, red-tiled roofs and quieter lifestyle was apparent.

Still, even the smaller, budget hotels have bent to the prevailing U.S. tourist winds. Our hotel, Playa Los Arcos, featured a television in the lobby tuned full-time to CNN. The gift shop sold USA Today, at $1.70. In the tiny shop up the street, that day's Los Angeles Times arrived each afternoon.

That first afternoon, after checking out the fine beach (Playa de Los Muertos) and noticing where we fit on the 28-mile-long Bahia de Banderas, we settled down in the hotel bar to make plans.

I asked the waiter for a beer in my fractured Spanish. "What kind of beer do you want?" he replied in perfect English.

I had to laugh at the irony, and acknowledge that much of Puerto Vallarta had succumbed to the lure of the U.S. influence. How else to explain the recent increase to 250,000 population.

Talking to other visitors on the beach and at the hotel, I learned many were from the Seattle area. It's not surprising, given Puerto Vallarta's near perfect climate and easy accessibility by air from Seattle.

Also, despite rampant inflation, Mexico still is less expensive than most other warm-weather destinations (if you stay away from the Hard Rock Cafe, where a BLT will set you back $9).

Beer usually sells for $1 or $1.50 and main courses are about $7 or less at most standard restaurants. The breakfast buffet in our hotel was $6.70, but it included tax, tip and enough tasty food that you didn't need to think about eating again until late afternoon.

One of the nicest things I find about Mexico is being able to shop while sunbathing on the beach.

In Puerto Vallarta, beach peddlers wear white, a city requirement according to one man selling baskets. The same vendors cover the same beach, it seems, so if you stick to one place everyday you'll get friendly with the regulars.

Though some visitors get annoyed at the constant interruptions, a friendly "no, gracias" or "nada" usually will keep you free of the solicitations.

The buying possibilities on the beach were endless: fried fish, silver jewelry, brass fish, wood carvings, coconut muffins, lace tableclothes, swimsuit coverups, hammocks, watercolor paintings, dresses, chocolate creme pie, hats, pottery, wind chimes, a 10-minute parasail, a massage, your photograph with an iguana - and about anything else your heart desired.

Bargaining was vigorous, with the vendors using the phrases "almost free," "how many, lady" or "hello, big spenders" to open the negotiations.

Most vendors take U.S. dollars, making me wonder why we bothered waiting in line at the bank to exchange for pesos. (We found the best rate and quickest dollar-peso exchange is at the large supermarkets.)

In my quest to find the Puerto Vallarta of old, we ventured into areas which most Americans avoid - or just don't bother to explore. Across from one bus station was the Restaurante el Buen Viaje. Here eggs were $2, a fruit plate $1, three enchiladas $2.70, and chicken and fries $3.34.

Our friendly waitress was surprised to see non-Mexican diners, and she spoke little English other than "Oh my God."

I finally had use for my Spanish dictionary, and we learned that our waitress, Aida Madero Tapia, was 21 and would be getting married in July. She kept us entertained throughout the meal with her questions and our struggle to converse.

After a meal for two of fajitas, enchiladas and beer, we left the restaurant $8 poorer but immensely richer in the knowledge that if you look hard enough, some real flavor of Puerto Vallarta still can be found.