Night of the Iguana.

Winter getaways are vital to a Chicagoan’s survival. My heart bleeds (freezes, actually) for those who can’t manage to do so. Winters here are why people were running around in a state of euphoria when the temperature here spontaneously hit the mid-80s on April 10.

Not counting a holiday jaunt to Italy, I had already managed to escape to Miami for President’s Day weekend, which provided me with idillic sunny skies and 80-degree temps. But knowing how Chicago winters roll, something said I’d need another getaway. Nothing like a historic blizzard to prompt you to scour for some cheap fares to someplace warm. My simple criteria of “warm, cheap, sunny, beach” resulted in a $380 Continental flight to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico and a $76-a-night gay hotel in the heart of Vallarta’s old quarter. ¡Vamanos!

After a brief connection through Houston’s George Bush Intercontinental Airport – which is a really nice airport, by the way – I was on my way to the sand and surf of Banderas Bay. And as we gently glided towards the runway, we flew over the one thing that lets you know you’re in Mexico: a Home Depot. Wait, what?…

After a quick and informative taxi ride, I arrived at my hotel, the Hotel Mercurio. Most hotels catering towards gay clientele tend to be unnecessarily pricey. Not the case at Hotel Mercurio. It’s very reasonably priced, and offers amenities such as free (if inconsistently performing) wi-fi and an elaborate breakfast buffet every morning. Plus their courtyard happy hour and its 10-peso beers are a nice way to refresh after a long day at the beach. The staff are just delightful and as helpful as can be. And the location in the Zona Romantica is perfect, with the beach, restaurants, shops and various other amenities just steps away. All of this makes the Mercurio a theoretical must-stay. It also helps if you like moldy rooms and a clientele who’s average age is probably around 55. You get what you pay for, and you’ll pay $10 less than I did according to a recent peek at their website. In their defense, they preemptively address the property’s shortcomings in the directory of services with a clear “we’re workin’ on it.” Let’s hope so.

My goal while in Vallarta, which was from March 17-22, was to essentially lay on the beach during the day in some fluctuating state of drunkenness. This was achieved by plopping down on a lounge chair at Club de Playa Lido. My sassy Canadian waitress Marissa kept the Modelo Lights coming all day and brought lunch along when needed too. As the sun waned, I would head back to the hotel to enjoy a few 10-peso beers and refresh in the pool. Shower, sunset, dinner, nightlife, bedtime at a semi-decent hour. Lather, rinse, repeat. I enjoyed a few terrific meals at The Swedes restaurant, Coco’s Kitchen, and Don Guacamole, where my meal was enhanced with mariachi versions of ABBA’s greatest hits. And yes, it was as awesome as it sounds.

And even though the beach itself was pretty lackluster compared to others I’ve been to, all of this would’ve been just fine were it not for a few detractions. First, while I understand Puerto Vallarta is a tourist destination, I somehow didn’t expect to see so many tourists. The hordes of Americans and Canadians vastly outnumbered the locals. Vallarta is also a very gay city – a fact that contributed to its selection for this little enhanced weekend. But it’s actually a little too gay. Vallarta has more gay bars than Chicago does all crammed into a relatively small area. Those gays bars are mostly filled with Americans and Canadians, including a good handful of familiar Chicago faces. All of this made it kinda hard to feel as if you were “getting away from it all.”

I probably wouldn’t rush to get back to Puerto Vallarta. The town itself is very charming and I’m sure if even more so when not overrun with obnoxious white people, which I imagine is during the off season in the dead of summer.