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Just north of Puerto Vallarta, the shore of Banderas Bay was once wilderness edged by a no-shoulder, two-lane asphalt strip that snaked up the jungle-draped coast to Tepic where the Nogales to Guadalajara Highway ran. Now, that coastline is called the Riviera Nayarit, and it smothers the old road eighty-plus kilometers north to the holiday colonies of Canadians and Americans at Rincon de Guayabitos and La Peñita. The road itself is four-lane freeway, California traffic-mad most of the way. The tourist industry on Mexico's west Pacific coast continues its juggernaut growth, and the old…mehr

Produktbeschreibung
Just north of Puerto Vallarta, the shore of Banderas Bay was once wilderness edged by a no-shoulder, two-lane asphalt strip that snaked up the jungle-draped coast to Tepic where the Nogales to Guadalajara Highway ran. Now, that coastline is called the Riviera Nayarit, and it smothers the old road eighty-plus kilometers north to the holiday colonies of Canadians and Americans at Rincon de Guayabitos and La Peñita. The road itself is four-lane freeway, California traffic-mad most of the way. The tourist industry on Mexico's west Pacific coast continues its juggernaut growth, and the old self-sustaining ways of life in the rural and coastal fishing villages of western Mexico continue to vanish. Puerto Vallarta has grown from a tiny village into a shrine of luxurious tropical decadence with half a million attending disciples. Sayulita, thirty miles north, is smaller, but more of a monster, a tumorous growth that consumed a village of fishermen's families in a fever of money and opulent banality. The sensation that a traditional way of life is fading away, and the continued contemporary distortion of a region's cultural character, compel me to fix in place, to set in scene and mood, part of what has been lost: the places, people and way of life I came to know four decades ago in Sayulita, now lost.