Acapulco.
What a great name for a city! The first time I heard the name was as a kid, in a cheesy 1990s Russian pop song. Back then, I couldn't have placed Acapulco on the map and didn't even know that it was in Mexico and not on some remote island in French Polynesia. But the name was so exotic that for many years it evoked an image of a faraway paradise.
Faded memories of my childhood fantasies came flooding back when I started to plan my first trip to Mexico in spring 2008. So much so that I decided to complement our exploration of Mexico City with a brief escape to this intriguing location on Mexico's Pacific coast. Our friends and relatives were relieved knowing that we were leaving “dangerous” Mexico City and going to a “resort” town. Little did they know that we were actually venturing into the heart of cartel territory, plagued by drug-related violence. Not having done our research, we had no idea that the beach paradise of past years now had such a sinister reputation. We had absolutely no safety issues and were thoroughly surprised when, upon returning home, we learned that the state of Guerrero had been voted as one of the most dangerous places not only in Mexico but in the entire world, with Acapulco perennially competing for the title of murder capital of the world ever since.
But let’s start from the beginning. It takes about 6 hours to get to Acapulco from Mexico City by bus. I hate taking buses. I really do. They are not as comfortable as trains and not as fast as planes. An overnight bus ride in a rigid seat is nearly always a torturous experience. My first overnight bus journey was a Greyhound ride from Boston to Chicago in 2003 after I had just emigrated to the U.S., and the grueling inconvenience of that ride has yet to be matched. Since then, I dread taking the bus even for a few hours. Can we hire a private car to Acapulco instead? Oh, I forgot that the year was 2008, and I was a first-year law student with school loans and no money. So, Mexican bus it is.
As you can tell, I didn’t have high expectations. I expected a less comfortable version of Greyhound. I was so wrong! The bus that we took to Acapulco was the best bus ride of my life. When we got to the terminal in Mexico City, we quickly located our bus and were greeted by our driver. We were then provided bottles of water, small packets of peanuts, and two carefully wrapped sandwiches. There was also a heap of fresh newspapers that any passenger could grab for free. Is this a cheap Mexican bus or flying to Europe in first class? Our initial shock didn't evaporate when we boarded and found that it was air-conditioned and the seats were fully reclining, nearly transforming into cozy beds. These seats were more comfortable than any of the plane seats we ever used and better than the seats on the ridiculous overnight train from Madrid to Barcelona that we would take two years later. We were truly and pleasantly surprised. As we settled into our reclining seats/beds and the bus left the bus terminal, a mounted flat-screen TV in the front started to play a light-hearted romantic comedy. We munched on our cheese and jalapeño sandwiches and were dozing on and off during the ride. The road was turning and zigzagging through Mexican terrain with overgrown, tall cactuses serving as guideposts and road signs advertising destinations for our future travels: Cuernavaca, Taxco, Tepoztlan. At first, I thought we’d accidentally booked a luxury service beyond the reach of most locals—until I noticed that we were surrounded by regular Mexican families. Ten years later, in 2018, when we traveled from Mexico City to Puebla on another comfortable bus, we confirmed that luxurious bus services between cities in Mexico are the rule, not the exception. The U.S. constantly claims superiority over its southern neighbor, but U.S. intercity buses have a long way to go before they catch up with their Mexican counterparts.
Acapulco itself left a weird impression. The location was breathtaking: the crescent of Acapulco Bay was ringed with glitzy hotels and restaurants, looking a bit like the gorgeous beaches of Rio de Janeiro. The yellow-sand beach was clean and pristine, and the bay's water was warm. Yet, something was off.
One thing that put us immediately off was the emptiness of the place. We visited in March and thought that it would be bustling with spring breakers from the U.S. and Canada. But there was none of that. The city was eerily quiet and lacking the bustling youthful energy that's typically associated with Mexican beaches in March. Families with children were also conspicuously absent.
The explanation was simple.
The heyday of Acapulco was over.
In the 1950s and 60s, when Cancun was still just a fishing village with a total population of several hundred people, Acapulco was a vacationers’ gem where Hollywood stars and wealthy people flocked to relax. But fast forward 40-50 years, and the Riviera Maya resorts stole all the hype and tourists from Acapulco. The only visitors to Acapulco now were elderly people nostalgic of the city's former glory, locals, and people like me, chasing childhood memories and fantasies. Who knows, maybe in 50 years, Cancun and Tulum will be empty too, with tourists abandoning them and flocking to a new hot thing in town. Only time will tell.
Another obvious reason for the lack of visitors was the region’s growing violent reputation. While the Yucatan Peninsula had (and still has) one of the lowest crime rates in all of Mexico, disturbing news and footage out of Guerrero were destroying tourism there. In 2008, as Mexico was dealing with the Mexican Drug War, Acapulco was no longer seen as a safe destination by many people. After our visit, the safety situation deteriorated even further, with gang-related violence dominating the news. Once again, we had no issues, but it's understandable why people didn't want to travel there.
What also bothered us was the widespread poverty that we saw up close. It's difficult to relax and enjoy yourself when you see locals struggling to make ends meet. We saw people of different ages trying to make money by selling various wares on the beach. There were little kids as young as 7-8 years old selling trinkets and sunglasses, as well as boat operators peddling souvenirs to swimmers. Julia spent a good chunk of her time swimming away from boats, whose operators tried to sell her souvenirs. I also still visibly remember an old, skinny man, well into his 70s, carrying loads of heavy, hand-woven hammocks for sale. His old, frail frame was bending under the weight of heavy hammocks; yet, he was carrying on under the scorching midday heat. We felt bad. You couldn't just pretend that none of this existed and look the other way.
Finally—and it might sound strange—Acapulco didn't feel very Mexican. Arriving from Mexico City, with its treasure trove of Mexican history and culture, Acapulco felt like just another beach town that could have been anywhere in the world. The only attraction that seemed to have a local flair was the La Quebrada Cliff Divers. Young divers plunging from high cliffs into the narrow and shallow water inlet gave us a dose of entertainment mixed with anxiety. Even a slight miscalculation meant death or serious injury, and their prayers to the Virgin of Guadalupe in a small chapel at the top of the cliffs before the jump would probably not have saved them.
With all this being said, we didn't regret coming to Acapulco. Despite the downsides, the visit allowed us to explore this corner of what became our favorite country and taught us a little bit more about the world and ourselves. All three days on the beach were low-key and peaceful. The sunsets, with the sun dramatically dipping into the Pacific Ocean, were breathtaking. We drank fresh coconut water, we wandered through touristy shops, and we lounged around in the sand. In the end, we were rested and relaxed, which is the whole point of a beach vacation, whether you are exploring the wilderness of Jamaican beaches, hiding away on a remote Cambodian beach, or people-watching on Copacabana.
