Sayulita & San Pancho: Private Day Trip with Art, Markets & Beach

4.97

(145 reviews)

What’s the experience like?

We rolled out of Puerto Vallarta a little after nine, windows down, that salty air mixing with the smell of strong coffee in the van. Our guide, Esteban, had this way of pointing out things you’d never notice — like a mural half-hidden behind bougainvillea or why the street dogs always nap in the shade near the bakery (apparently they get scraps at noon). The drive to San Pancho wasn’t long — maybe an hour? — but it felt like we were already somewhere else by the time we stepped onto those bright streets. I kept stopping just to look up at all the tangled colors and painted walls. There was this one gallery where an old man was painting jaguars onto driftwood; he nodded when I asked if I could watch, didn’t say much but smiled with his eyes.

After wandering through San Pancho’s galleries and catching bits of music from open doors, we headed over to Sayulita. That place just buzzes — surfboards everywhere, kids running barefoot, smells of grilled fish and lime. The artisan market is wild; there was a Wixarika woman threading beads into these impossibly tiny patterns. I tried to ask her about it with my broken Spanish and she laughed (not unkindly) before showing me how to hold the thread right. It’s loud in Sayulita but somehow not overwhelming — maybe because everyone seems happy to just be there. We got Esteban’s food tips and ended up sharing tacos at a spot he swore by (he was right). I still think about that salsa.

There was free time after lunch so I wandered off toward the beach. Sand stuck to my ankles and everything smelled like sunscreen and saltwater. Some people were taking photos by those painted letters that spell SAYULITA, others just sat with their feet in the surf not saying much at all. The sun felt heavy but good. On the way back our group was quiet — tired in a nice way, you know? Drinks appeared from a cooler (Esteban again), and someone played music low enough that you could still hear the wind through the window crack.