Little Secret by the Sea

BARRA DE NAVIDAD, Mexico — Say hello to this rustic little beach town on the Pacific just north of Manzanillo. It's got a sandy shoreline full of bright umbrellas and a dozen seafood eateries under thatched palm roofs. There's a roaring ocean, a tranquil bay, a fleet of water taxis and a 2-year-old luxury resort that looms across the bay like Xanadu with sand traps.

If you've never heard of it, you're excused. Just a handful of American and Canadian beachcombers have been quietly coming here since the 1970s, and the town has remained an unsung getaway, a place to do nothing.

Now get ready to say goodbye to that Barra de Navidad. As yachties find their way to the growing marina and golfers discover the 27-hole course next to the 199-room hotel, things are bound to change. As other resorts rise and expand along the 120-mile medley of largely raw beaches and cliffs north of Manzanillo and south of Puerto Vallarta, Mexico's so-called Costa Alegre is bound to draw ever more tourist traffic.

Now, while the laziness endures, is a good time to be here. But let's be clear: This is neither a cathedral of natural wonders nor a repository of colonial architecture. The principal church, though impeccably tidy, is all of four decades old and looks like a well-ventilated triple Quonset hut. With its bumpy streets, sandy patches and improvised carpentry, Barra would be hell for a wheelchair traveler. And with its extreme upscale and decidedly budget lodging choices, it has no place, except perhaps the Hotel Cabo Blanco, for that ubiquitous creature, the middle-market American traveler.

Barra is, however, a fine place to do a little reading, maybe take a dip in the ocean, then settle back under one of those bright umbrellas that rent for $2 a day. The waves on nearby beaches work for some surfers (though the rough water can be risky for swimmers), and the afternoon wind works for windsurfers. I didn't see Cabo San Lucas in 1974, before the chain hotels and the time shares and the vacation homes sprouted, but I bet it looked like this.

The local dinner specialty is camarones a la diabla: shrimp soaked in a spicy chile sauce. The best American breakfasts, priced at about $3, are on the palapa-shaded terrace of the Hotel Delfin.