A couple of longer than expected bus trips and we finally make it to the little beach town of Sayulita. It’s stinking hot and we are in less than a happy mood when we arrive. We drag our luggage through town in the middle of the day and then up a steep hill sweating profusely to our villa accommodation. Dumping the bag, the first thing I do is strip off and fall into the pool. Once we cool off, we take stock of our new home for the next few days and love it. Essentially a tree house with wide open windows, wooden frames and furniture and most importantly, a hammock with a view. As I lay in the hammock watching the sun set on the first night, I decide I may never leave, not least of all because I don’t want to carry my bag back down. Eventually rousing ourselves for dinner, we head down the hill to town and end up at a bar where I try Mezcal for the first and lost time. It’s so bad I have to eat an orange slice after every sip but manage to finish it all. Jamille refuses to have hers but one ups me by eating a chilli covered cricket. Apparently, it’s chewy.

Loving being beachside, we book a tour out on a catamaran for one of the days snorkelling and stopping at La Marieta. With about 25 people on board, including a fun-loving crew, the cocktails start flowing at 10am. Naturally, we can’t refuse. We spot several dolphins one of which follows us for several miles swimming under the boat while we lie face down watching, Jamille nearly close enough to touch with her fingertips. The scenery is stunning and it feels soothing to be on the water after so much time in cities.

Our last night is spent fruitlessly searching for baby turtles hatching on the beach, speaking to American expats who have made Sayulita their home and eating mussels. We’re sorry to be moving on.