I have a guest blogger today! I’m thrilled to have as my guest Barbara Barnett who is here to tell us all about her last vacation spot she went to, Riviera Nayarit, Mexico. Welcome to Island Chick Travels, Barbara!
Ten Days in Paradise: The Marival Residence in Riviera Nayarit, Mexico
by Barbara Barnett
The week before our much-anticipated vacation to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico could not have been more insane. And if I was in need of a “get away from it all” vacation before the week began, by the time we got on the plane, “desperate” might be a better description than “need.” The week started out innocently enough. I put in a live television appearance on Fox Milwaukee’s morning news show and headed home to Chicago feeling progressively yucky.
By the time I got off the expressway, I just knew. And sure enough, I had strep throat—fever and all! The next day, we began hearing the dire warnings of impending doom: a blizzard was sure to strike the Chicago area. Yeah, right! How often had we heard that prediction, only to get a paltry inch of the fluffy stuff? But this time, “they” weren’t wrong, and we got socked with two feet—nearly a record breaker. Sheesh. So, you see what I mean? Desperate.
Sick, snowed-in and a million things to do before leaving, I felt about as ready for a vacation as I ever had been. Of course there was also the fear that our flight would be cancelled, since O’Hare Airport wasn’t up to schedule until sometime Thursday night.
I somehow managed to get at least the bare necessities done, like taking the animals to the pet resort and laying in a supply of sunscreen in three different SPFs. And we were off!
I had known all along that a week just wasn’t quite going to do it. We would need a couple days simply to decompress—before we started doing “vacation” things like hiking, boating and exploring. So, we decided on 10 days: a full workweek sandwiched between two weekends. Perfect. I wanted Paradise; he wanted time to rest and swim in the ocean. We both wanted to be warm, outdoors, and have opportunities to see wildlife (and maybe a little wild life), and other exotic living beings. But for both of us, the big goal of this vacation was downtime from day jobs and snow. For him, to read, play music and chill out; for me that meant time to sit in the sun, listen to the crash of waves and write. The reading and chilling out, while important, this week was to be for not having to split my brain between my writing life and “the day job.”
Bandying about the names of places we’ve not yet sojourned, we decided to try Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Sitting on the semi-circle Banderas Bay shoreline along Mexico’s Pacific Coast, Puerto Vallarta is ringed by the magnificent Sierra Madre Mountains. Among the many resorts along the Bay, we chose The Marival Residences and World Spa in the northern part of Banderas Bay—in Nuevo Vallarta.
The flight to Puerto Vallarta was packed, slightly bumpy at times, but most importantly on-time and with a smooth landing among the palm trees. The clouds cleared and there we were descending through the Sierra Madre Mountains and toward the sea. Palm trees, blue skies, beaches, and Banderas Bay: we are here!
I’ve been through many foreign airports over the years: from Zurich to Tel Aviv; from Nassau to Cancun. There is nothing fun about disembarking from a long flight, only to get in long immigration lines, chaos, crowds—and customs inspections. It’s a fact of international travel, and one of things I dread—especially when I’m already stressed out.
I have to say, however, that the experience at PVR was efficient, quick and pretty painless. All the paperwork had been done on the plane, so there was little to do but get in a very short line (impressive, since our flight was packed) and grab our bags. Customs was equally easy. And then we went through the doorway and into Oz. And by Oz, I mean Tourist Beware City!
The PVR arrival experience lulled us into an almost-serene state: out the door, into our awaiting chariot and off to the beach we go. Or not. Because, to actually get to the chariot we had to wind our way through a teeming throng of tour and time-share operators insisting that they were our new best friend, had something free to offer, and were—indeed—the people sent to greet us by Apple Vacations (the tour company through which we booked our vacation). They were everywhere, dogging everyone. Madness!
We had been duly warned in our travel documents from Apple that we might encounter some fairly aggressive sales folk. “Politely say ‘no’ and move on,” we were told. Nearly through the first wave of brochure-waving sales people, we thought we might be in the clear: no scratches, no bumps, no sales.
“You’re traveling through Apple Vacations?” inquired a gentleman looking at his clip board. How ever did he know? Cool. Was he sent to escort us to the chariot… er…van? I nodded, skeptical. He didn’t actually look like he was from Apple (they wear garish flowered shirts, and this guy was wearing a pressed white dress shirt). He motioned us over to a large counter. “We have to catch our van,” I protested. “That’s alright, we’re sent to greet you…” he began, proceeding to tell us about a lot of great day trips.
He seemed legit, but I was pretty suspicious. The trips looked great, and definitely among the excursions I’d been considering. OK, so maybe he wasn’t from Apple, but he seemed okay anyway. But then came the big “aha” moment.
“Now these are all great trips, but they are quite expensive,” he began again, warming up. “You can have them all for free!” Got it. Time share dude.
“Thanks for the information, sir. We have to catch our van,” I said starting to walk away and towards the guy in the garish shirt I saw way off in the distance. Time Share Dude followed in hot pursuit trying desperately (and futiley) to snag my husband. We moved faster, nearly running over another guy with a clip board. “Excuse me,” he said calmly.
“Look, we have a van to …” Now I was ready. I turned, ready to do battle. But then I noticed the shirt. Garish never looked so good. “Mrs. Barnett?” I nodded.
“Your van awaits. Welcome to Puerto Vallarta.”
Palm Trees: check. Waves crashing on the beach below our suite: check. Exotic birds flying overhead and just above the water? Check.
With memories of Chicago’s blizzard quickly fading from memory, we finally arrived at our destination: The Marival Residences and World Spa in the Riviera Nayarit. It is chillier than I imagined it might be—in the upper 70s by day and around 60 degrees at night, although the difference between standing in the sun and in the shade accounts for a lot of degrees.
We are shown to Brunello’s Wine Bar, off to one side of the lobby. We’ve left our bags outside, and are told they will be taken care of and to have a seat. “Would you like something to drink? Wine? A cocktail?” Part of me (the stressed out from the airport part) is waiting for the time-share sales pitch. We’re too comfortable in these nice cushy seats on the couch. Where were the forms to fill out? The map of the hotel so that we might find our way to our room? The time-share vultures?
A lovely young woman approached, asking for our signatures as we sipped our drinks. Wow. They brought the forms to us? Cool. What’s the catch? She explained that we would be shown around and then to our suite—along with our belongings. And we were. No time-share pitch, simply a gracious welcome. My wariness was quickly wearing off on the sun-soaked patio.
This is a quiet resort. Our suite is a penthouse, six flights up and above the Pacific. Through a clearing in the palm trees below, waves curl one after the next before pounding the sand—the percussive music relaxes. I could be happy to simply close my eyes and listen all day. A spiral staircase at the rear of our suite leads to a rooftop terrace with views of the ocean and Sierra Madre. We are enticed by our private “splash” pool sitting high above the resort.
The Marival is an “all-inclusive” resort. There are two Marival resorts on this stretch of beach. The Marival Resort is down the road and is as boisterous and energetic as “The Residences” (as ours is called) is sleepy. Staying here, we have privileges at both. (People staying at the sister resort, however, do not have the same reciprocal privileges here.)
Many people thumb their noses at the idea of doing an all-inclusive resort vacation. You miss opportunities to taste the fine cuisine in town and to go exploring the area. I’ve never really bought into that philosophy. And I think there are times for each type of holiday plan. We wanted to pay upfront and not think too much about where we could (or could not) afford to eat dinner.
Now, there are all-inclusives and there are all-inclusives. There’s one for every budget in Nuevo Vallarta, and whether you want to spend $1,500 for a week or $5,000, I’m sure you’ll find one to suit your needs.
The Marival Residences is definitely on the upper end; the sister resort down the road (where the beach is, incidentally) is essentially the economy model. We opted to live in the lap of luxury and it was luxury we got! Who would ever want to leave the this spectacular and luxurious resort—much less our suite?
We actually didn’t—leave, that is. Not for days. Everything we needed was right there at our disposal. My sleep-deprived husband slept for the better part of a day and a half; I sat on the terrace wrote and took (probably) 4,000 pictures. You may think that’s a pretty lame way to start a holiday (wasteful even), but this is why we booked 10 days instead of seven!
It was all part of a plan. There is a lot to do in this part of Mexico: it’s whale-watching season; the Sierra Madre Mountains surrounded us. There is much history here, as well as native culture. I wanted to whale watch. I always want to whale watch. I’ve chased those magnificent humpbacks in Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and Alaska. But here is where they winter, mate, and calve, so the experience would be quite different. Besides, I have a cool new camera that seems made for watching whales (and any other wildlife we may encounter).
We went on our whale photo safari through Vallarta Adventures, climbing into a 20-seat inflatable zodiac boat that more resembled a raft than a boat. But it was worth it. Not far out into the bay, we watched mother whales playing with their babes—splashing and diving. The naturalist placed a hydrophone in the water, allowing us the rare (and seasonal) treat of listening to the male wales sing their courting song. Frigate birds soared overhead seeking an easy catch along with boobies (yes, that’s what they’re called!), ubiquitous pelicans, and huge cormorants. The seas were rough and since we were only inches off the water, we got a pretty good dousing of very salty salt water!
A short golf-cart ride to the Residences’ sister resort and we are on the beach. My plan was to sit on a comfy lounge chair, sip Margaritas brought by white coated butlers (really!), and read all day beneath a large umbrella while slowly working on my tan (very slowly, considering the 45 SPF lotion I slathered on my chest).
The water this time of year is chilly, but not un-swimmable, and the sand is very, very fine. It’s much easier on the feet than the beach sand in Chicago (Lake Michigan), but not quite as perfect as the cornstarch-like white sand in the Rivera Maya on Mexico’s Caribbean. And if you like to soar with the pelicans and sea gulls, the sea breezes are perfect for parasailing. Surfers, some in wet suits, sit astride big boards out on the water waiting for the perfect swell to carry them back to shore. I’m sure there are better places to surf if you’re experienced, but it seems that the fairly gentle curl of these waves make it a safer haven for newbies to “hang ten.”
We went into Puerto Vallarta toward the end of our time in Mexico, and if only to walk along the seaside boardwalk and enjoy the pelicans and sand-sculptors’ work (it’s incredible), it’s worth the 45-minute cab ride from the Riviera Nayarit.
Like the airport, downtown Puerto Vallarta is teeming with time-share hustlers offering everything from free vacations to free tequila in exchange for your time (and the hard sell). They are avoidable with a quick, deliberate “no gracias” and an even quicker exit down the street.
Too soon, our time at the Marival Residences was at an end, and after a delicious Sunday brunch, we packed and headed back to the airport. Adios Riviera Nayarit—until the next time.
Barbara Barnett is Co-Executive Editor of Blogcritics, an Internet magazine of pop culture, politics and more owned by Technorati Media. Always a pop-culture geek, Barbara was raised on a steady diet of TV (and TV dinners), but she always found her way to TV’s antiheroes and misunderstood champions, whether on TV, in the movies or in literature.
Barnett’s regular column, “Welcome to the End of the Thought Process: An Introspective Look at House, M.D.” features insightful episode commentaries and interviews with the House cast and creative team. It is the place for intelligent discussion of the hit television series starring Hugh Laurie.
Barbara has had an eclectic career. With an undergraduate degree in biology and minors in chemistry and English, she pursued a PhD in Public Policy Analysis after spending a few years working in the chemical and pharmaceutical industries. Her first professional writing gig was with a food industry trade magazine, and although it wasn’t exactly like writing for The New Yorker, it completely hooked her on the profession of writing.
She also writes lots of other things, including technology (from a non-geek perspective), the movies, politics and all things Jewish. Based in the north shore suburbs of Chicago, Barnett is married with two brilliant children and a dog. Chasing Zebras: The Unofficial Guide to House, M.D. is her first (commercial) book. She hopes it’s not her last.
Visit Barbara’s website at www.barbarabarnett.com.
Would you like to be featured here? Email me at thewriterslife@yahoo.com and please put “Travel Guest Blogger” in the subject line.
Until next time, 
Island Chick
Der Wörthersee
The author standing on the Wörthersee ice
John Milton Langdon is a Fellow of the Institution of Civil Engineers and has a master’s degree in maritime civil engineering. Langdon retired and became a professional writer after an active and rewarding engineering career. Initially he worked in Britain but from 1972 until 2008, he dealt with project development in Bahrain, Iran, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates and Nigeria. Langdon lives in the Austrian town of Klagenfurt which has a history stretching back to mediaeval times. Langdon has three children and five grandchildren from his first marriage and two step sons from the second. Langdon has many interests including travel, the British canals, music and literature but hiking in the mountains surrounding his home is a preferred leisure activity. John’s latest book is a historical fiction titled 
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