“How was your first night, did you have any visitors?”
Ruben, the bartender at Playa Escondida in Sayulita, a boutique surf hotel in one of Mexico’s designated Pueblos Magicos (“Magic Towns”) on the Pacific coast, asks this as he hacks away at a pineapple for a Pina Colada order.
He doesn’t need to explain what he means by visitors.
Hours earlier, I was near panic-stricken after spotting something moving about my suitcase – a flash of spindly legs attached to a bulbous greyish-brown body. It’s a tarantula, I thought. Oh, god… is it a scorpion? What colour are scorpions?
I’d summoned enough courage to drag the suitcase onto our balcony terrace, where my sister and I commenced several rounds of nervous prodding, flinching, kicking items of clothing around and squealing, in that order, until finally a culprit emerged: not a spider but a timid little crab. It was, to be fair, actually adorable. Caught out, it performed an awkward two-step, looking embarrassed in that way crabs always seem to, before we gave the suitcase a final nudge and sent it on its way.
That same morning, I spotted a stubby little gecko with eyes like saucers sunning itself on our terrace love seat; upon noticing me, it dived into a heap of cushions and disappeared. Soon after, a larger crab strutted right up to where I was sitting, throwing up its pincers in exasperation or as if to mime, “What are you looking at? Move!” before bustling past.
I list off the various houseguests to Ruben. “So a quiet morning then?” he deadpans.
In the early rainy season, from about June to October, Playa Escondida’s adorably anxious crustacean population becomes as much a feature of the resort as its gloriously retro beach villas. Thousands of these shy land crabs march en masse towards the ocean, creating a spectacle for guests.
Moving through the property requires high-level alertness – crabs in all colours and sizes, some barely bigger than an ant, traverse its private beach, open-air yoga studio, and jungle-flanked passageways as we dart out of the way, trying to anticipate their next move.
A handful of villa regulars eventually get names – Sebastian, a pale-orange and purple crab, has set up house in our beautiful sun-dappled shower. Each morning, he stares us down from the furthest reaches of the shower ledge while we slink towards the tap, so as not to spook him. He remains there, barely moving a foot, for the duration of our stay.
The resort is also frequented by coatis, curious racoon-like creatures who live in the surrounding jungle and are capable of using their agile front paws to open cupboards and fridges when hapless guests forget to lock up, though we don’t spot any during our stay.
The villa’s rudimentary design – a thatched-roof compound akin to traditional Aztec or Mayan adobe huts (though with a lot more colour and pizzazz) – means it isn’t exactly hermetically sealed off from critters, though the kitsch aesthetic is very appealing, and a deeply welcome alternative to the bland luxury mega-resorts that seem to dominate the Nayarit coast.
Outside on our terrace, an inbuilt jacuzzi bubbles next to two ruby-hued day beds; the exterior walls radiate in vibrant shades of sky blue and peach, adorned with white handpainted pre-Columbian-style motifs. Joyous levels of colour pervade the resort, from handpainted murals and lush jungle greenery to beautiful multicoloured soft furnishings, ceramics and trinkets.
The 32-room property, which shot to onscreen fame in recent times (at least in North America) as the location of the American Bachelor in Paradise TV series, remains a beacon of retro charm in Sayulita. Its once-inaccessible beach, flanked by two giant rock outcroppings, was discovered by an American surfer and architect in the 1980s, as the story goes. In the following decade, the architect’s friend purchased the land, and together they designed and built the first homes on Playa Escondida, in what would eventually become the resort.
The hotel evolved organically, without a master plan – a fact that’s charmingly evident in the design. Some of its villas immerse you in fairytales, others in ancient Mayan spirits. Rooms on the upper part of the property, made of teak wood and bamboo, transport you to Thailand. Some feature jacuzzis, some don’t even have air-conditioning. There’s a warmth and unpretentiousness to them.
It’s easy to see why this spot was chosen, too. Each happy hour, after wandering down to Ruben’s tiny beach bar to imbibe uncivilised amounts of Miami vice cocktails (the MVP of tiki libations – a decadent blend of Pina Colada and Strawberry Daiquiri), we’re treated to a sunset for the ages.
It begins with searing intensity. We flit between our bar stools and the beach for cooling foot dips in the ocean, before heading back to the villa to catch the multicolour finale from our jacuzzi. The evening concludes at the restaurant overlooking the infinity pool, with dishes of zingy ceviche, wood-fired pizza and buttery lobster linguini.
The hotel offers a level of serenity that’s increasingly rare in the burgeoning tourism town – not really seen since Sayulita’s sleepy fishing village days in the 1990s. Watching the quirky antics of the many hundreds of crabs that pass through, while sipping coconut cocktails, is about as action-packed as it gets, and that’s just how we like it.
The details
Stay
Playa Escondida’s Jungle View rooms start from $290 a night; Sol Beachfront jacuzzi villas from $560 a night. See playa-escondida.com
Fly
Puerto Vallarta International Airport (PVR) and Guadalajara International Airport (GDL) receive direct flights from Mexico City and many major US cities. From there, take a bus or private transfer to Sayulita.
Rideshare
Ubers are rare to non-existent in Sayulita, but it is possible to order an Uber to Sayulita from Puerto Vallarta airport (cheaper than a transfer, quicker than a shuttle). There is no designated Uber pick-up zone, but you’ll find an unofficial pick-up area across the road. To find it, turn left at arrivals and follow the path around to a sloping pedestrian bridge (there is no signage, but you can’t miss the throng of people waiting to get picked up).
The writer was a guest of Playa Escondida.