We took the long, windy bus ride to Tonala spent way too much time in this uninteresting town before working our way down to the beach at Puerto Arista.

You can see that the pit stop on the way to Tonala was not AAA rated, but the general store did sell us nuts, apples and juice in a box. My distinct memory was the smell of burning brush along the highway.

Once in Tonala, we made the novice traveler's biggest mistake - lack of reconnaissance. We accepted a crummy hotel room without realizing that we were still eleven miles from the beach.

The room itself was a real piece. It had a cement-based bed (the mattress wasn't much to write home about either) traversed by a two-inch thick swath of army ants. The room door did not close properly, nor did it really lock and the gap under the metal door was large enough for the safe passage of overfed rodents.

After shaking off the creepiness of the hotel in Tonala, we cabbed it down to Puerto Arista where we were met by palm shacks and grey sand beaches.  Ah, relief. We found a hotel room in town that probably wasn't much nicer than the one in Tonala, but the staff and clientele were friendlier and it was right on the sand.

Our weekend was enjoyable - drinking beer and eating fresh fish and hanging out in the sand. I was content, although Nicole was on the eternal manhunt and was trying to hook up with bartenders, waiters and ex-patriots weekend.

Warning: this is not a beach destination! If you are in the area and want to break out your flipflops, then this is the place. Otherwise, I would suggest vacationing at a prettier beach with less dangerous currents. In the interest of full disclosure, I'll also mention that my watch was stolen in the hotel's community shower.