JULY 2025 PUERTO VALLARTA/HILTON HEAD STORY

Wow. One place named for a judge who introduced the concept of innocent until proven guilty, and another that warns of the dangers of too much fun. Yes. Puerto Vallarta, and Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. Here’s how it all gets put into the pot to simmer until served.

Garza Blanca Resort in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, is a vacationer’s dream come true. Plenty of sun, and surf for beach-bums, and/or snorkelers, surfers, and divers. It has it all, along with wonderful restaurants and bars that don’t skimp on quality, or quantity. Even the birds are friendly. This is Naomi befriending a local Toucan who was left over from a Fruit Loops commercial.

I’m not going to go into a dissertation on the tedious vagaries of international travel. Once you’ve encountered the social rejects who inspect carry-on luggage, as well as checked luggage, which is supposed to be safe from sticky-fingered inspectors, you, along with we, just accept it as collateral damage connected with travel.

Moving right along on a more positive note, once we got to our resort, all systems were “go” for fun in the sun, along with dietary abuse. Yes. There is no shortage of calories or carbohydrates, along with stellar foods from various parts of our planet, such as sushi, hamburgers, steaks, seafood, pastas, pizzas, pastries, and fresh fruits and vegetables to satisfy the most discerning palate. Yes. The bars are well equipped to serve up anything from a simple bottle of beer to a mango margarita made with freshly picked mangos that the mixologists peel as they go. No mango concentrate here, mixed brilliantly along with your choice of Tequila.

We arrived on the 9th of July, just in time to celebrate our 37th wedding anniversary on the 10th in their Japanese restaurant, Hiroshi’s. They fêted us with “tons” of fresh sushi, and sake, topped off by Champagne, and crème brûlées. Not exactly a prescription for a diabetic. But hey, how often does one celebrate 37 years of marital bliss in an ideal setting?

This is us outside of Hiroshi’s at sunset. 

The management of Hiroshi’s, along with the staff remembered us from previous times that we had stayed there. Thus, they prepared a nice little surprise for us to help celebrate our anniversary, which we celebrated all week. These were two nights of the celebration. Thus the different shirts, for those of you who check!

Now that the topic of Tequila has been broached, it is at this point that I must confess that we, once again went on a Tequila Tour. It’s like a refresher course in “The making of a drunk.” I might as well take it from the beginning. This agave plant is the beginning of the elixir known as Tequila, which was named for a song in the 1950’s recorded by “The Champs,” or vice versa. Either way, they are both incredibly popular.

Interestingly, the gentleman giving the discourse on the history, making, and virtues of the bottled brain bender, was the same fellow who gave the same lecture a few years ago, when we had attended his spiel. This guy must have a pickled liver. We were once again reminded, and amazed, that they wait seven to ten years before harvesting this plant to begin the fermentation process. It’s hard to believe that they cultivate these plants for that period of time, hoping that each plant will yield enough juice to go on to fermentation, and ultimately Tequila. “YA GOTTA HAVE HEART!”

Like most small children, I had trouble with certain words. I knew what biscuits were. But when my mother showed me a picture of a hibiscus flower, I naturally thought that it was a high biscuits flower. Here we are with a beautiful high biscuits flower.

Before this turns into an “Eat Here” type of travelogue, I must mention just one more place at this time, Bocados. I don’t know if it means two mouths, or some sort of Italian slur. Nonetheless, when one orders Surf ‘n’ Turf there, be ready for a very full table, even if it’s just the two of you, as it was with us. Here’s an example. The filet mignon was respectable sized, and beautifully prepared, as were the sides. However, the lobster tail reminded us of what we were served in Mombasa, Kenya, a fourteen pound lobster. This was not quite up to that. But check out the dimensions of this tail.

Puerto Vallarta was named for a lawyer who was born in 1830, named Ignacio Vallarta, who later became the governor of the Mexican state of Jalisco, and came up with the idea that people who are arrested, are to be considered innocent until proven guilty, which was quite avant-garde for his time and geographic location, where crime and corruption ran rampant. He was born in Guadalajara, Mexico, and died in Mexico City in 1893. Ignacio got his legal education at the University of Guadalajara. During his lifetime, he was quite active in the laws governing Mexico. He fought alongside Santos Degollado, and Benito Juarez (later immortalized by Paul Muni) to bring social and political reforms to Mexico. Later, under Porfirio Diaz, Vallarta served as Foreign Minister, and later sat as the President of the Supreme Court of Mexico. He spent his waning years in a private law practice. Sadly, the locals, as well as tourists rarely bring up his name, and/or what he created in the face of daunting odds. The majority of people simply say, PV or PVR, which is the airport code. Here is a statue of him in the park named for him. Sorry about the pigeon on his head. Nature will go on regardless of stature.

There is no lack of churches in Puerto Vallarta, or any other town or state in Mexico. Here is the Parrish Church of Our Lady of Guadalupe, and its interior.

No tour of a town would be complete without at least a glance at some of the local residences.

There are statues and sculptures galore by the seashore. This one really caught our eyes. I never thought about how to ride a sea horse before. Live and learn.

Meanwhile, back at the ocean, our snorkels beckoned. Never let it be said that we passed a chance at some of the wonderful underwater sights in this area. Being already a bit warm from the tour of downtown Puerto Vallarta, we were ready for La Mer and its denizens. We usually could figure out the species of fish that we encountered, but this one threw us both a curve. If you can name it, please let us know.

This is a Puffer Fish, which, if not prepared properly, will exact its revenge on you. Yes. Some parts are highly toxic. Cuidado amigo.

After ten days of Mexican merriment, it was time to move on to our next destination for funzies, or whatever was in store for us. Following the usual “goodbyes, and see you in the futures,” we boarded our flight to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. Simple right? Not right. First we had to fly back to Dallas, spend the night, as usual, at the DFW Hyatt Regency, get up the next morning, and then board our flight to Charlotte North Carolina, check into our hotel, the Hyatt House Charlotte/City Center, spend the night, and then board our flight the next morning to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. Yes. Some flights are less direct than others. As you may have surmised, we don’t like to try to catch connecting flights, due to “this one arriving late, and that one taking off a bit early.” Yes. We spend a bit more money in hotels, but, at the end of a vacation, we are not beaten down by trying to accommodate hairbrained airline schedules. Now ensconced in Charlotte, North Carolina, we decided to see a bit of it in the few hours that we had before hitting the “lilly whites,” and going to our next flight. Here is one of the sights that greeted us upon walking out of our hotel. Yo for local arts.

After a bit of a walk around the local area, we decided to quench our hunger that had set in by trying what appeared to be a real diner, in the old sense of the word. We struck gold! This place was just as well equipped and well run as the diners that I used to frequent when on the road in the early 1960’s. It’s called the Midnight Diner. And it was right across the street from our hotel. This is why I mentioned the name of the hotel. Fine accommodations, and great food all within a short walk.

After our adventure with “Down Home Southern Cooking,” it was time to return to our hotel, and our appointment with Morpheus.

Up bright and early to make it on time to our flight to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina….HONEST!! Yes. This time the plane that we are going to be in is really flying to Hilton Head. YAY!!

For those of you like I, who think that Hilton Head was named for Conrad Hilton, the hotelier, WRONG. It was named for the British navigator, CPT. William Hilton, a British explorer, who in, 1663, (Pre-Paris/Conrad Hilton) identified a headland near the entrance to Port Royal Sound, which cartographers named “Hilton’s Headland.” In those days, it was a matter of, “You found it. It will carry your name.” Wow. Talk about an incentive to find new lands. This was the ultimate ego feeder. The island was originally seasonally occupied by Native Americans for thousands of years. Much to their chagrin, Europeans found it to be “nice also.” Thus, in time the sea island cotton trade began to flourish. Out with the Native Americans, in with the slave-trade. During the Civil War, it became an important base of operations for the Union blockade of the Southern ports. When the island fell into Union hands, hundreds of ex-slaves flocked to Hilton Head, which is still home to many of their descendants, who are collectively known as the Gullah, or Geechee. I personally never used either term when engaged in conversation with locals. I prefer to use Mr., Miss, Mrs. or Doctor, when appropriate. Nonetheless, the Gullah have held on to much of their ethnic and cultural identity. The U.S. military still has a good-sized presence there, the Marine Corps Recruit Depot at Parris Island, along with the Marine Corps Air Station Beaufort.

Upon disembarking from our plane, we had to secure a car that we had ordered in advance. Now started the fun that was peculiarly part of the Hilton Head Experience. Yes. “Let’s see how many ways to mess up a simple reservation, and cause nothing but grief to our customers. After all, we get paid whether the customer gets what they pay for or not.” This seemed to be the unwritten modus operandi for the car rental people, along with, as we came to find out, most of those working, and being paid on the island, with whom we came in contact, and with whom we had to depend for just about everything. If I sound a bit annoyed at this point, it’s only because I, along with Naomi, was powerless to get this vacation underway. We had just come from a resort whose employees would bend over backwards to please us in every way. Rather than the sedan that we reserved, they, after two hours of waiting, presented us with a huge van that I had no intention of driving for the next two weeks. Nonetheless, it was take it, or sit in the airport for the next two days. Thus it was, that I was installed behind the wheel of “Monstro.” Did I take this laying down? Yes, figuring in the choices at hand. So it was that we drove to the nearest market for groceries to see us through until we could get a car that I could comfortably handle, and use to go out for dinner, et cetera. Thank goodness, our suite was a two-bedroom, two-bath, full-sized apartment, with a complete kitchen. Normally at this point, I’d say that our luck had changed. WRONG! The people who built this place were of the same ilk as those with whom we had just been dealing. Yes. Windows didn’t quite close, nor the screens. Hello flies and mosquitos. Nonstop fun was ours. Okay, we’ll go downstairs to the swimming pool and relax. WRONG AGAIN! With all of the “no smoking” signs, and children present, one would think that the hotel security people who were on the spot would say something to the clods who were smoking “Churchilian-Style” cigars, and blowing the smoke perfectly so that everyone, along with the kiddies, could “enjoy” their smoke. Needless to say, we evacuated that area like a pair of caffeinated hummingbirds.

At this point, we decided to “order out.” We called a local pizzeria, and ordered dinner. After waiting and hour, we called the pizzeria again, asking about our order. They told us that the driver got lost. This was amazing, because, after we placed our order, we took turns waiting in the street for the delivery. We saw the vehicle, and waved frantically at it with flashlights, but to no avail. The driver turned around approximately 50 meters before reaching us. “Break out the Valium. Break out the Vodka. This is right out of a Walt Disney cartoon!” Finally, four days later, we got a suitable sedan, and began to go around the island.

If it’s dinner, atmosphere, and a good band you’re seeking, go no further. Ruby Lee’s South is the place for you. Fine food, good service (they apparently didn’t get the word regarding customer treatment), and a good funk trio who played for keeps. No goofing off. They came to play. And play they did.

It was like a cloud being lifted off of our heads…Dollar value, and fine music. YAY!!

Along with these funksters, Hilton Head is also known for its golf courses, which are vast, and plentiful. Driving to and from our apartment, led us through a number of courses. We were hoping kiddingly not to get hit by a stray ball. Then we saw this sign.

THEY WERE NOT JOKING!

After this, we learned, very quickly to keep our heads down, and our “antennae” up. We took nothing for granted. The old adage, “once you’re back on the resort property, you’re safe.” Oh boy did that evaporate when we saw this sign located a few yards from our parked car. Notice the picnic tables. I don’t think that either of us thought about having a nice, relaxed picnic in this area. We also kept our eyes peeled when approaching the car, or leaving the car.

Did we let this dampen our lust for seeing new sites, and/or adventures? YES! Nonetheless, we had to see the beaches for which this area is so widely touted. Having experienced the beaches in the Caribbean, South Pacific, Hawaii, and other exotic strongholds of beauty, we were really looking forward to this next-on-the-menu excursion.

So, off we went to the beach that was the nearest to our resort. This is what we were greeted by. Yes. A wooden path leading to the beach, complete with weeds and brackish water. Apparently the locals don’t mind water that one can’t see through.

There were some folks there who are committed, like Naomi and I, to preserving turtles. Here is a pair of stalwarts, spreading the word of turtle preservation. We swapped stories about the various hatcheries that they, and we had seen, and supported throughout the world.

The local turtles are the Loggerhead Sea Turtles. They have existed in the seas for over 100 million years. Yes Martha, that predates the internet. Loggerheads are named for their large heads that support powerful jaw muscles, allowing them to crush hard-shelled prey like clams and sea urchins. Their population has declined due to pollution, shrimp trawling, and civilian development in their nesting areas. Strangely, sea turtles need to reach the surface to breathe. Thus, many drown when caught in nets used by trawlers. I’m not going to get into the nesting, incubation, and/or mating habits of these denizens of the deep. Sadly, it is estimated that only one out of a few thousand hatchlings survive to adulthood. Suffice it to say that they are rather incredible, like so many other animals in the wild.

So the beach wasn’t a total loss. No snorkeling for us. But a very pleasant learning experience.

Before leaving the beach, and wildlife experience, I must mention the local pelicans who fly in amazing formations that seem almost choreographed for a Jerome Robbins production. Here is a group that seem to be in search of a parking lot full of cars.

Regardless of where one goes, where there is water, there is a place for the rich and shameless to park their boats. This is known as Shelter Cove. Naomi took this panorama.

This is where we stayed. Looks great from a distance. Caveat emptor.

Finally it was time to end this caper. So, once again, it was time for the hotel/airline medley, but this time in reverse. Yes. The story of a judge who brought justice to a nation, and a resort where danger signs abound. Upon reaching our Texas sanctum, we both breathed a big sigh of relief. As it has been said after many challenging situations, “We did it!”