El Tuito was a reasonably short ride south past Puerto Vallarta from Sayulita.
Although I grew very fond of El Tuito during my time there, it’s not a place I would have known about or thought about going except that my dear friend Denise had transplanted herself there a few years prior to my arrival.
The main street into El Tuito off of highway 200. This moped transport contraption has been seen in various forms in different cities and towns in Mexico. This was was interesting because the neck of the moped was nearly detached from the moped itself.
I know Denise because we used to ride together out in the Pacific Northwest together. I met her through riding groups that were formed on PNWriders.com, a website of which we both belonged.
She would often ride “sweep” for our group rides. “Sweep” is what we call the last rider of the group (as opposed to “point” - the first rider). This person’s role is to make sure no rider is left behind. And not only was that a riding term that applied to Denise but if you were fortunate enough to know her, she was a sweep in general in life. She was always looking out for us, not just riding.
A few years back, while planning and researching for this ride I contacted Denise and found that she was now living in Mexico. Never asked how that came about or she never offered so I figured it would make for an interesting story to hear once I meet up with her in person. It was a couple of years ago when we first started talking about a visit with her during this trip to Panama. And so here it was.
Taking the local bus to Puerto Vallarta.
On my last day in El Tuito we decided to take the local bus to Puerto Vallarta for the day. Not only was P.V. cool but the bus ride there and back was chock full of awesome.
Some times you don’t have to be bilingual to understand jokes.
I had left from Sayulita earlier that morning.
This was the day that all of us as a group decided to move on in our own directions. Schlomo, the backpacker of Israeli decent that camped with Steve and I left that morning before I got out of my tent. I never did get to wish him Buen Viaje like I wanted. I’m still curious about that guy and what he was about. We talked a few times but it had to do with soft topics like the guy up in the tree cutting down the coconuts or very hard topics like the political situation in the Middle East with Israel. We never did touch on the more substantive but less edgy middle conversations such as why he is traveling alone as a minimalist, where he was last and where he was going or how long he would be traveling. But he was gone by the time I started to get ready and decamp.
Steven was leaving that early afternoon as well. He had rode into Sayulita with his best bud, also from California. Since his buddy favored staying at a hostel and Steven liked to camp, they slept in different locations within the same town. They were meeting up that afternoon to continue south, as was I, and find some more surf spots. Steven’s buddy was an avid surfer, so avid that the day before when I met him on the street as Steven and I walked back from the bank, he was actually mounting a surf board carrier on to the side of his motorcycle. I was impressed and as someone that lived to surf growing up, I totally understood it and was impressed with his drive to surf and ingenuity to get it.
I took my time packing my things that morning. I still wasn’t completely ready to leave Sayulita but it was definitely the right time with those that I became friends with were leaving camp. Steven rode out first and I followed minutes later.
That initial day we met up in the zocalo of El Tuito. Denise had told me that there is free wifi in the zocalo so that is how I contacted Denise to let her know that I had finally arrived in “Tuito”. Minutes later she was giving me a big hug.
That first day, after we met up, Denise helped me find a cheap hotel for my stay. The initial plan was to maybe stay a couple of days and nights so I just needed somewhere to crash. I need the basics. There weren’t many options as far as actual hotels go in Tuito but the first one we found, “El Mexicano”, was reasonable and had everything I could need, including parking right at the front door.
Parked right out front at El Mexicano Hotel.
I de-geared my bike and myself and we set out in her SUV to check out her house and property. That was uniquely Mexican and very cute. The views from her house were amazing and the fact that you can sit up on the roof to watch sunsets made it even better.
The next few days were spent walking around Tuito and catching up. We got the chance to try some restaurants, meet some of her friends from town and just relax. Nights were usually spent back at the zocalo to watch small town life live.
El Tuito made it easy to adjust to its pace. I can see why generations have lived here and stayed and some of the lucky once-outsiders slowly become residents and a fixture of Tuito life. I think during our long “walk and talks” (one of my all time favorite activities ever) exposed to her the way someone with very fresh eyes sees life in Tuito. I also got an insider’s look into the local population and how everything worked here.
Late night tortas to bring back to my room. Fantastic and cheap.
Life at night in Tuito took on it’s own life. It was small, quiet town Mexico. Most go to sleep fairly early but there are some that stay out and some places stay open. If you know where to look.
I love the details because life is in the details. There’s so much character if you take the time to look and towns like this have character by the foot. The weather is relatively mild in Tuito year round. This is evidenced by the window covering situation here at the tortas spot on the corner by my hotel. The windows are either wide open when the store is open or they close up by releasing the heavy wood window covering.
This is the tortas spot on the corner near my hotel. It’s across from the Christmas Shop. It was one of the few late night places. For days I didn’t want to approach it because there was no menu out front and I didn’t know what or how to order. Finally one night Denise and I were watching another guy place his order at the window from the street. We decided it was the perfect time to walk up and see what he is ordering and solve the mystery of this late night food spot.
We walked up, saw the meat cooking in the pan, the bag of bread to the side and she was preparing everything else for the sandwich while the meat cooked.
“Oh,Tortas!”. We both proclaimed.
Tortas were cheap and delicious. This place looked interesting at night and I loved the way the street lights and the lights of the restaurant spilled out onto an otherwise dark street and the adjoining alley where you ordered your torta.
On my last day in town we met up, stopped by the Supermercado to get my lighter filled up and then hit the “local” bus for 35 pesos to Puerto Vallarta. We got on the bus with a couple we met the night before at Denise’s friend’s restaurant on the square. It was a great ride to Vallarta.
We walked through downtown towards the malecon when we saw an interesting bridge down at the end of a side street.
On the other side of the bridge was this cool little market with these interesting trees.
On the way back we crossed the suspension bridge, rocking it up and down on purpose. This was one of the known by some and some caught off guard by it’s swaying and waves as feet trample across it. Feels like something in a fun house.
Checking out the cheap food options in an inside fish market.
Walking along the malecon in Puerto Vallarta.
Walking back to the bus stop we just happened to walk up when the “express” bus to El Tuito was about to board. Perfect timing. The express is 50 pesos (15 more than the local) and it is mostly a direct drive to Tuito except for occasional picking up and discharging of hotel workers as the various resorts that dot the hillside facing the ocean as we made our way south down highway 200. And we stopped for gas. So kind of an express but not as many stops as the local.
We got off the bus on highway 200, the busy road that runs up and down the Pacific Coast. There was a new taco stand in town on this strip of cheap taco stands that we had planned on trying.
Post tacos we walked back towards town when we passed Denise’s go-to hair spot. As luck served us again, she didn’t have any clients. Time for a haircut.
While she is getting her hair cut I’m outside with my camera thinking more about how life must be in this place. It’s quiet out on the street with barely the rumble of trucks four or five blocks up on 200 and the occasional soft chatter of Denise and Betty, I stand out front both thinking about these past few days here with my great friend Denise is this small Mexican town south of Vallarta. I’m thinking that life is in the smallest of details, the way people live their lives and the elasticity and resilience of long time friendships and nights spent just walking and talking.
Denise stopping in for a haircut at her favorite joint on the way back from Puerto Vallarta.
