Us, a Tiny Beach, and a Very Good Girl
Some people dream of Paris for their romantic getaway. Others picture sipping limoncello in the Amalfi Coast or riding gondolas through Venice. But if you ask me where the sparks in my life really fly, it’s not under the Eiffel Tower. It’s on a beach palapa in Las Islitas, just outside San Blas, Nayarit, with sand between my toes, a grilled fish on my plate, and my favorite person beside me.
Las Islitas isn’t flashy. It doesn’t have infinity pools or butlers or rooftop cocktail bars. What it does have, though, is charm, peace, and a kind of relaxed romance that doesn’t try too hard - just like the best kind of relationship.
So, here’s our story: Two slightly stressed souls, one overstuffed beach bag, and a whole lot of shrimp tacos, falling in love all over again on a little Mexican beach with a big personality.
We arrived on a Sunday afternoon armed with optimism, SPF, and the need to quiet the world for a bit. As we drove up and saw what our next few days would consist of, we immediately knew that THIS was the place.
Las Islitas isn’t a long beach, but it stretches just far enough. The water was calm and shallow during the morning and the day, perfect for floating with your eyes closed, only opening them every so often to catch sight of the palm trees swaying above.
And the best part? Not a single beach club DJ in sight. Just the sound of the ocean, a few laughing kids, and the occasional vendor offering cold coconuts. (Yes, we bought one. Yes, I spilled it. Yes, I tried again.)
We stayed at a charming little hotel right on the beach. When the tide rolled in at night, we were isolated from land and felt dreamy nestling on the water. It had the essentials: a hammock, a view, an outdoor covered space, and a door that technically locked but required a certain jiggle-jiggle-twist combo to make that happen. It wasn’t fancy, but it had that cozy, rustic vibe that made us feel we were the only couple in the world on a magical adventure.
Oh, I feel now would be the opportune moment to mention the flying demons called jejenes. You don’t find mosquitos in Las Islitas like you do in San Blas proper, but these tiny invisible hellions are in abundance in the wee hours of the morning and at dusk. Bring bug spray! And remember - only the strong survive dusk.
There was a mama dog who followed us everywhere, which having bid farewell for a few days to our two pups, was a lovely surprise. We named her Babygirl, and by the second hour, she felt like part of the family.
We were there for four days and three nights, and we quickly fell into a rhythm:
Wake up with the sun and watch the oyster fishermen set out on their day.
Stroll to the beach with coffee in hand and Babygirl in tow.
Eat our weight in banana pancakes from the scattered about local restaurants.
Play in the ocean and our private pool.
Nap and repeat.
My partner, being the coolest one in our little duo, is a photographer, and he ventured out and about on a few walks to capture the most perfect shots. I opted to perfect the fine art of doing nothing at all except lie in the sun with Babygirl while reading. True love is letting your partner wipe sand off your back every 15 minutes without complaining. That’s true commitment!
If you’re a seafood lover, Las Islitas is basically heaven with a side of lime. Beachfront restaurants serve everything from shrimp ceviche to whole grilled fish to oysters fresh from the ocean. We ordered something different at every meal, shared bites like one of those couples you either find adorable or annoying, and toasted each other with icy beverages that somehow tasted colder under the sun.
But the real MVP? Pescado zarandeado - a marinated fish grilled over open coals. We shared one under a thatched roof, our legs sandy, our hearts full. Honestly, it might’ve been the most romantic (and cheapest) meal of our lives.
One morning, we decided to venture into San Blas proper. It’s a small town with cobbled streets, bright buildings, and massive amounts of charm. The locals are among the friendliest I’ve ever met, which enticed us to make a few purchases as we popped in and out of the many shops. I purchased some handmade earrings that I was convinced I could pull off. Spoiler: I could not. My fella was far too kind to say anything, though. (Again - true love!)
We visited Muelle de Matanchén, a simply breathtaking fishing pier about a mile or so before entering San Blas proper. At the end of this colourful, flower-potted pier sits an abstract version of a statue that’s rather prominent across the area and can be seen in many forms, “Loca de San Blas.”
The statue honors Rebeca Méndez. As the story goes, she was a local woman who fell in love in the early 1970s with a young fisherman. The day before their wedding, he set sail as he so often did, with both bidding each other adios until the next morning - the morning their two would become one. But the next morning never came for him. A storm capsized his boat, and Rebecca was inconsolable. Although stories differ at this point, they all allude to the tale of a broken-hearted woman returning each day in her wedding dress to the place where she last said goodbye and waited for a return that never came. (I warned you this would be a romance post!)
(FYI - Mexican artists, Maná, created quite the beautiful song - and tear-jerker of a video - about her story. I encourage you to check it out here.
On our last morning in Las Islitas, we woke up early and walked the beach with Babygirl for one last time (but hopefully not the final one) while it was still cool. The tide was out, the sun was rising, and she was trotting happily beside us like she’d known us forever.
We sat on some beach-facing swings, sipping our coffee and watching the pelicans dive-bomb for breakfast. It was one of those quiet, perfect moments you don’t plan; you just stumble into. A bit like love, I suppose. We didn’t want to leave. I even wept a little bit (although I think that was more about leaving Babygirl, but still).
As we returned to our room, packed up, and kissed Babygirl goodbye, we promised each other two things:
We’d be back.
We’d be back again, and again, and again.
Las Islitas isn’t a big-budget honeymoon destination. It’s not a five-star resort with champagne on arrival or rose petals on the bed. It’s better than that. It’s real. It’s warm. It’s the kind of place where you can slow down, laugh at your sunburn, and reconnect with the person you love - with no distractions beyond the tide (and one very good girl).
So, if your idea of romance is more like mine - barefoot strolls over Louboutin- heeled limo rides, and simple grilled fish over caviar - then Las Islitas is calling your name.
And hey, if you’re lucky, you’ll meet Babygirl. We’ve been checking in on her from afar with some people we met, and we’ve sort of become her guardians in another galaxy by taking care of some financial things that arise. So, if you go, please tell her that we love and miss her, and give her some hugs, kisses, and head scratches from us. She loves those.
Oh, and let her know that we’ll see her soon.