Mexico In Spring: Zihuatanejo

I first discovered Zihuatanejo--"Z" or "Zihua" as it's called by the regulars--in 1967, before the streets were paved and when more squealing pigs than sunseeking tourists roamed the town. It was my dream of a Mexican paradise then, and it became my daughter's nearly a quarter of a century later.

In those intervening years, Ixtapa was created along a two-mile strip of wide, sandy beach just 4.3 miles to the north. The development of the modern, master-planned resort side-by-side with the small fishing village of Zihuatanejo offers a mix that has turned out to be quite agreeable. Those who prefer Ixtapa's modern high-rise hotels--some with kids' programs--can still enjoy Z's more authentic ambience, while the Z crowd might amble over to Ixtapa for dinner and some nightlife. Some families enjoy Z's colorful Mexican fiestas, with buffets, handicrafts, folkloric music and dance staged weekly at hotels like the Krystal, Dorado Pacifico and Sheraton.

For Nicole and me, Z's La Ropa Beach is as good as it gets. A luminous swath of white sand that curves around Zihuatanejo Bay for a kilometer, La Ropa is lined with hotels and restaurants idyllic for lazing away the days. We've stayed both in a simple room at the Catalina--Z's oldest hotel, built into the cliffs above La Ropa--and at the luxurious Villa del Sol, a beautiful upscale beachfront property that only takes kids under 12 in the April to mid-November off-season. We eat fresh fish and seafood: huachinango, or snapper; camarones al mojo de ajo, or shrimp in garlic sauce; and dedos, strips of white fish also called "fried fingers." The food always comes with limes and baskets of warm tortillas, and we always eat with our toes in the sand. La Perla and Rossy are two of our favorite cafes.

Life is as complicated as deciding when to hail a cab for the five-minute ride into town to get a fresh tropical fruit juice and a paleta--a fresh fruit bar of coconut, melon or tamarind--or a torta, a Mexican sandwich on baguette, at Nueva Zelanda. It's as formal as wearing shorts and huaraches--Mexican sandals--or tying a pareo, or tropical wrap, over our bathing suits. We put on something with a bit more flair for dinner in town at Coconuts.

Some days we head over to the municipal pier to catch a panga, a launch that makes the 10-minute crossing to Las Gatas. This palm-fringed crescent, lined with palapas serving fresh seafood under thatch roofs, has waters gentle for snorkeling--thanks to a Tarascan king and the breakwater he allegedly built long ago for his young princess. My young princess and I love to snorkel up an appetite for lunch at Chez Arnoldo and then take a siesta. On our return, we stroll the malecon, or brick-paved seaside walk along the municipal beach, where locals gather at sunset.

Unlike resorts such as Acapulco or Mazatlan, which are both big cities, Z is compact and easy to navigate. Set on a naturally sheltered, curving bay just a mile and a half wide, Z's a place where we not only get to know other visitors but seem to make friends with some local families, as well. We were once invited to the simple home of a local fisherman and his wife, whose three kids played on the beach with Nicole for hours without a sentence of shared language. But then cartwheels, drawing with marker pens, racing and jumping rope are already the common language of children. These connections have made our experience here deeper than at other beach resorts.

When Nicole and I visited the Museo Arquelogico in town and discovered that Zihuatanejo was originally named "Cihuatlan," meaning "place of women" in the Nahuatl language, we decided the name fit. Here in this gentle land that was probably at one time a matriarchy of weavers, we knew we would always feel at home.

Please keep in mind that phone numbers, addresses, and prices are subject to change. Updated August 2005.