Pueblo Bonito Emerald Bay, or, the Empire does Mazatlan

Pinch me! Is this Mexico? Or, have we been transported to an opulent, historic Roman palacio? Pueblo Bonito Emerald Bay in Mazatlan reminds me of when we visited the remains of a Roman senator’s villa on Lake Garda, Italy. Corinthian columns, massive arches and extensive grounds rise up from a shoreline rimming a sparkling bay. Then, as now, I envision toga-clad patricians being pampered and feted in a scene that is surely one of nature’s most dramatic backdrops for such opulence.

While the Roman villa in Italy had been in ruins, however, this is anything but! Here, a vast, multi-acre estate is richly landscaped with ancient mangroves, acacia, ficus and palms and dotted with elegant statuary. Lining a wide span of white-sand beachfront is a series of swimming pools that seems to stretch for miles. And topping the whole thing, perched behind an imposing balustrade – is the Pueblo Bonito Emerald Bay resort – an impressive collection of villas containing 288 timeshare suites. Plus, adjoining that is a secluded high-end fractional village, Emerald Estates. Emerald Estates is accessed through a separate gate and rings a Jack Nicklaus-designed golf course currently well on its way to being built.

While our boat, S/V Last Resort, is docked in Mazatlan, our friend Eric White has generously invited us to dine in the very elegant La Cordeliere restaurant.

We are a party of five and the marina manages to hail a ‘van’ that can accommodate all of us. An open-air conveyance draws up that resembles a Jeep-like troop transport. We ladies clutch our designer handbags as the gentlemen assist us in climbing in like a band of rather chic guerilla fighters.

The vehicle has speakers the driver must have bought when the local ballpark last updated its sound system. As we ride northward along the Avenida Camaron Sabalo, we are regaled by Gloria Gaynor broadcasting “I Will Survive” at many decibels above what is normally accepted as healthy for eardrums. Five songs later, we make our stentorian entrance past the guard gate. Base tones throbbing, we circle a cage of huge macaws and parrots, which protest angrily as they're blasted by “Pretty Woman.” At last, we pull up before Pueblo Bonito’s elegant port cochere, much like the Clampetts arriving in Beverly Hills.

Earlier in the week, I had been given a tour by one of the two heads of Pueblo Bonito's vacation ownership sales department, Mario Lopez. Mario’s ebullience and enthusiasm has given me a false sense of self confidence. I lead the way. It takes a while before I’ll admit I'm helplessly lost in this wonderland of pomp, but at last we reach La Cordeliere – reputed to be one of the finest continental-style dining establishments on the coast.

We are seated on a balcony overlooking the ocean just as the sun sets. It’s a magnificent setting. The weather is ideal, the company agreeable. Can it be improved? Well, yes, as it turns out. I must restrain myself from slurping when I sample the buttery lobster-shrimp bisque. It’s a fitting fanfare to salute the entrée – filet mignon, served with a savory mushroom reduction sauce and elegantly accompanied by a mound of vegetable-topped mashed potatoes. Greedily, I wash it all down with a swig of Cabernet as I watch our friend, Orlando, tackle his Dorado. We all swap spoonfuls of desserts from ice cream to a delectable three-milk cake (please, no calorie count is necessary).

Later, I lead my friends through the grounds of the resort, while they exclaim over the imaginative, free-form pools, the lush flora and the occasional glimpse of a unit’s interior where you can see a compilation of details that speak of well-planned luxury. Brightly-tiled floors, wood-carved designs on the furnishings, the plushest of linens and towels – everything is done with aplomb. And then, there’s the Spa (ah…the spa!).

The ride back to the boat is far more dignified than our earlier transport. We hop on the resort’s large, air-conditioned bus. All the way back, my thoughts return to visions of the fantasy-like, Romanesque world we’ve just left behind. Somehow I know it’s going to take a while to come back down to earth or, in my case, back out to sea.

(Click here to read about Captain George and his guidebook: required reading for visitors to Mazatlan. Or, read this if you're interested in Loreto.)