Remember my irrational sense of ownership over the entire country of Peru? Well, don't even get me started about Mexico. I basically run the place. The big difference is that I've actually been to Mexico. Like, many times.
I've been known to say that I come from a long line of Jews who like to appropriate other people's cultures. Kind friends have often referred to me as an honorary Arab or honorary Indian to make me feel like part of their club. But it doesn't start with me. My great grandfather, a Russian immigrant to Los Angeles, ran a dairy farm in Covina. It was no surprise that my grandmother, who grew up with Spanish-speaking farm-hands, sought out a Master's Degree in Spanish from the University of Chicago. (A young woman getting a graduate degree in 1940? Yup, total bad ass.)
And my father, who only consumed novels in Spanish, read La Opinión regularly, and had us going out for Mexican food at least 3 times a week, famously drove 3 hours across Nebraska to eat at Taco Bell, the only "Mexican food" in the state when he was getting his dental degree there in the 1960's. And it goes on. My sister jokes that we went from mother's milk to refried beans and my chef brother is contemplating opening a Mexican restaurant in San Francisco. We're not Mexican, I know, but sometimes it really feels like we are.
This hotel, La Quinta Troppo, in the state of Guerrero, reminds me of vacations we took as a family to Acapulco and Puerto Vallarta. I love Mexico's Pacific Coast and it has been on my list for a long time to visit Zihuatenejo. Thank you Welcome Beyond for the lovely photos.