I always thought roosters only crowed at dawn. I also was under the impression that if a dog in your house is constantly barking, you would attempt to quiet it down, maybe offer a treat or some attention to quell the noise. Perhaps the propane delivery truck that makes the rounds through the neighborhood wouldn’t blare an announcement, paired with an admittedly catchy jingle, through its roof-mounted speaker, before 8 am. But after almost nine-plus years of near constant travel around the world, I still have a lot to learn about other cultures. While we were warned about the ‘local sounds’ around our accommodation in Punta de Mita, it still took some getting used to. The local roosters didn’t START crowing at dawn, since they never stopped, bellowing all day and throughout the night. The dogs were the same – any time a stray wandered down the street, all the homebound canines would alert everyone to the intruders presence. The gas truck was just the first of several vehicles to make their way through the area – the cheese vendor also made its presence known with an equally loud message, punctuated with the recording of a mooing cow. The scrap metal collector had no such endearing message, just a scratchy blast of unintelligible gibberish that reminded me of an old radio being left to broadcast static after its tuning dial had been moved from the actual station. Fortunately for us, Punta de Mita is that type of place that grows on you, and after acclimatizing to the local sounds after a couple days, the charms of this town, located on a peninsula at the northern tip of the Bay of Banderas, outside of Puerto Vallarta, won us over.

We had settled on Punta de Mita as our base for the exploration of the coastline both north and south of Puerto Vallarta. To the south, we visited pretty little Mismaloya, a small beach tucked into a cove, reached by driving the winding highway out of PV. After leaving the city center, the road twists and turns along the hillside, giving glimpses of the glistening waters of the bay between the resorts and homes built overlooking the water. Mismaloya is a small town, dominated by the massive Barcelo resort at its center. The beach is backed by a series of palapa-roofed restaurants, tour and fishing boats bob in the water and pelicans put on a show by rising up off the surface before diving back down attempting to catch a meal. Most folks visit here on a day trip, occupying the lounge chairs provided by the restaurants, sipping margaritas and enjoying a lunch of fresh seafood before returning to the city. We picked a table in the shade, shed our flip-flops, ordered Pacificos and ceviche and spent a lovely afternoon admiring the view over the water.

To the north, a string of towns attract visitors for sun, surf and relaxation. Perhaps the best known of these towns is Sayulita, just about ten miles up the coastal road. It was our intention to spend some time staying in Sayulita, as we had heard good reports on the town from friends back home in Colorado who had visited on surf trips after the end of ski season. But recently the news hasn’t been as glowing – overdevelopment there has led to problems such as piles of trash rotting on the streets, a sewer system incapable of handling the swelling number of tourists and even people getting sick from swimming in the fouled water off the beach. We decided to give it a pass. Instead, we opted to stop in and check out Rincon de Guayabitos, a further eighteen miles north. What I thought would be a relatively off-the-beaten-path destination took us by surprise. We found a thriving ex-pat community of American and Canadian retirees, a long stretch of relatively uncrowded beach, and calm waters dotted with small rocky islands. We plunked ourselves down at Victor’s Beach Bar, once again kicked off our sandals, ordered lunch (grilled fish sandwiches this time) and sipped cervezas. Yet another perfect afternoon gazing out to sea with our feet in the sand.

Neighbors of ours in Colorado had intrigued us with photos of their recent trip to a desolate beach even further north than Guayabitos. So one more time we pointed the rental car up the coast and made the two-hour drive to Playa Las Tortugas. Passing through a succession of small towns along the highway, we left the paved road and bounced down a dusty dirt road for four miles, passing mango and breadfruit plantations to reach the beach. Playa Las Tortugas is REALLY ‘out there’! We found a place to park amongst the palm trees and walked out onto a stretch of dark sand with nothing, and nobody, in sight. The ten mile beach has virtually no development save for a cluster of homes at its northern end and a turtle conservation camp. The waves crashed against the sandy shore and pelicans glided inches above the waters surface. Under an overcast sky we spread a blanket and set out the picnic lunch Heather had packed for us – steamed tamales, organic cherries and bars of chocolate – all items I had purchased the previous day at the weekly farmer’s market in La Cruz de Huanacaxtle, a town along the Bay of Banderas next to Punta de Mita. After enjoying our lunch we strolled the beach, enjoying the solitude, sounds of nature and the sand under our feet.

I don’t mean to shortchange Punta de Mita with my opening comments. It’s a delightful town, known for its forgiving, beginner-friendly waves, welcoming and affordable beach-front restaurants and that ‘boisterous’ local village. Its also got whales – lots of whales. We spotted whales while walking the beach in the mornings, from our guesthouse’s roof-top terrace in the afternoons and from our favorite restaurant on the waterfront at sunset. Every. Single. Day. It’s a great choice for a base to explore the area. And If you’d like to avoid the ‘local sounds’, there’s always the Four Seasons resort at the end of the peninsula – peace and quiet, though, comes with a $1,500 a night price tag.

Our two weeks in Punta de Mita wraps up our time in Mexico this winter – three months in total. Now we’re off to the next destination: Belize. We’ll be visiting Placencia (at least to start) on the country’s southern Caribbean coast, looking for some paddling opportunities and a chance to snorkel its world-famous barrier reef.