Puerto Vallarta (part I)

Wonderfully lazy, with countless restaurants and beaches of finest white sand, Puerto Vallarta seems like a paradise to a weary San Franciscan. During the first 15 minutes outside you get a sunburn that becomes a zorro mark of sorts, alerting all street vendors that this gringo has just entered the Eden and that she is deliriously happy and therefore prone to buying all kinds of useless touristy crap. Surprisingly, street vendors аre not nearly as tenacious as their colleagues in Rio, Brazil: a simple NO did the trick. Though mexican men are a different story: apparently they learn how to undress a woman with their eyes at about the same age they take their first baby steps. Oh, and they whistle too.