Destination: Acapulco : The Villa Life : Complete with household staffs, they can be more economical than a hotel room

I was adrift on a canary-yellow air mattress, floating around the pool, one hand trailing the cool water, the other holding a dog-eared copy of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “The Beautiful and Damned,” when a deeply accented voice interrupted my reverie with that all-important question: “Perhaps Senora would care for a drink?”

It was good-looking houseman, Marcello, from behind the patio bar, his starched white-suited figure shaded by a banana tree.

Oh yes, Senora certainly would. Doing absolutely nada can be thirsty work. I propelled myself his way, took a glass of fresh fruit juice from his outstretched hand, and wafted back across the water.

My husband, eyeing me from a cushioned chaise lounge by the pool, chided me with his best Mae West imitation, “Beulah, peel me a grape.”

Beyond us, in the garden, mating butterflies the size of bats darted among hibiscus and bougainvillea blossoms. Choruses of crickets and the slow swoosh of a gardener’s broom lulled me into deeper lethargy. Above, hawks hovered by the higher cliffs like hang gliders, waiting for a breeze.

“Bliss” is not a term I toss around lightly, but we found something very much like it at a rented luxury villa in Acapulco’s exclusive Las Brisas area. By the second day of la dulce vida, I began to feel a little floaty, like an astronaut spacewalking without a cord. (The Spanish word for this is alucinado--”spaced out.”) I consumed countless women’s magazines while nibbling sweet peaches or sipping strawberry lemonade. I painted my toenails scarlet and took to wearing absurdly oversize hoop earrings, bartered for in a local silver market.

We got accustomed to being waited on hand and foot, with no agenda save for our own, be it dinner at midnight, or breakfast at noon. Inside these private gates, the rest of the world slipped away.

Renting a villa in Acapulco was a lot less hassle than we’d thought it would be, and far more reasonable than anything comparable in Hawaii or the Caribbean. We booked for July, the Mexican off-season. Though the city’s population is now over 1 million, July and August (when tropical squalls can move in and spatter the hills with warm rain) are less congested, and quite pleasant if you avoid the intense midday sun. I like Acapulco because it isn’t Mexico without the Mexicans, like other resorts can be. Nacionales, in fact, make up the bulk of the well-heeled tourists here. Villa rental is ideal for family reunions, a holiday get-together, or sharing with friends.

Back in 1989, when my husband and I began twice-yearly escapes to these hills, friends who thought they knew better sniffed, “Why Acapulco?” To much of the world, Acapulco is a once-chic resort that now carries the unbuttoned-to-the-waist, gold-chained aura of a has-been superstar.

But this still remains the heart of the Mexican Riviera, which stretches along the Pacific Coast from Mazatlan to Huatulco, 165 miles from Mexico City. Despite its detractors, Acapulco is hardly passe. It woke up with a jolt after World War II, when it was declared Mexico’s first tourist resort, and hasn’t been to bed since. You don’t head here to find the “real” Mexico; this is daydream territory, a state of mind, a sensualist’s mecca.

The nicest part is the East Bay and the scenic highway that leads there from the airport, passing the lush, overblown Princess Hotel (where Howard Hughes spent his final days) and its golf greens, then up a steep mountain, to a stunning view of the bay, Bahia de Acapulco.

This entire area is Las Brisas (the breezes), the true romantic’s choice, site of both the Westin Las Brisas Hotel and an enticing enclave of private villas straight out of a James Bond film. (“Licence to Kill,” starring Timothy Dalton, in fact.)

For the first few years, we were Las Brisas Hotel-dwellers, checking into No. 425 at the famed pink and white fantasy village of individual casitas (small single and duplex bungalows) built around the ruins of a 15th century fortress. Kings and queens, presidents and pundits, Elizabeth Taylor, Placido Domingo and even Roseanne have all slept here.

Beginning near sea level, the hotel’s accommodations stretch up to the slope’s summit, each casita boasting its own private or semi-private swimming pool. Prices climb as high as the hotel’s trademark pink and white Jeeps, which zoom guests up and down the steep property to restaurants, boutiques and the hotel’s private beach. (Watching nimble room-service men negotiate these hairpin turns with one hand on the wheel, the other balancing a tray midair, has to be seen to be believed.)

From the casita, we were awed by the view of fabulous flower-draped villas hanging from nearby cliffs. Both the hotel and the villas, though separate properties, are rather confusingly named Las Brisas--after the neighborhood. During a visit three years ago, we learned that the lower-down-the-hillside section is called Fraccionamiento Las Brisas. The upper section, located near the landmark Peace Chapel with its giant cross, is called Club Residencial Las Brisas. Both upper and lower are equally fashionable addresses, resting safely behind private guarded gates.

The notion of renting one of these villas began to germinate as we sat on the patio of No. 425. True, these little palaces looked as though they would command princely prices, but this was Mexico, where all is not always what it seems.

For the next few months, the idea haunted me. Then I spied a classified ad in the back of Town & Country Magazine, under the heading “Luxury Villas, Resorts & Rentals”:

“For lease or sale--luxury villas. Las Brisas in Acapulco--3 through 7 bedrooms with pool & complete staff.”

Bea Maulden, owner and chief agent for Shaffer International, the Fort Worth-based company handling rentals of the villas, turned out to be an expert source, having rented, leased and sold in the Las Brisas section for more than 30 years.

“When I first started handling properties in Acapulco, in the early 1960s, it was known as “the sandbox of the beautiful people,’ ” she said. “John Wayne owned a home by the bay, as did Merle Oberon, and folks like Tom Jones and Frank Sinatra would jet in and out.”

These rental villas, she informed us, were each staffed with a houseman, cook, maid/laundress, gardener/pool cleaner. Usually a car and driver was at your disposal too. We’d be met at the airport, and from that moment on, our every need would be catered to. The house chefs were all professionally trained, and the staff mixed the best drinks in town.

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We decided to be a party of six and wanted a spacious home where we could all retreat to our own corners. We were experienced in renting homes around the world, from Portugal to West Palm Beach, and the whole process of renting from Maulden’s firm proved to be surprisingly headache-free. After carefully perusing the brochures, we chose the “Casa Ensueno” (meaning “dream” or “fantasy” house) for its Architectural Digest-style clean lines and rain forest landscaping, dark azure pool and waterfall. Larger than we needed, Casa Ensueno had five pretty air-conditioned bedrooms, including a master suite that could easily accommodate an entire family. It was replete with marble Jacuzzi tub and private sunning area, graced with stone sculptures. By the time we were ready to depart L.A., our party had dwindled to five, but that didn’t alter the plan: Casa Ensueno or bust.

Almost every villa in the Las Brisas area is partially open to the elements, giving that cloud-dancer feeling each time you look toward the horizon. Set in the lower, Fraccionamiento section, Casa Ensueno’s patio looked like the deck of a ship suspended in the sky, and all quarters were very private. (The master suite--which we played cards for the first night and won--was in a separate wing.) Marcello, who spoke perfect English, was an Acapulco native and could answer all our queries and make us feel at home.

The price: $500 per day. If you share with the right number of people, it works out at $100 per bedroom, far less than Las Brisas Hotel’s lowest off-season double rate of $165--not including their 15% tax and $16-per-day gratuity.

As Maulden had promised, Casa Ensueno’s cook was a marvel. Our companions, who preferred heartier breakfasts than our usual fruit and coffee, ordered huevos rancheros, pineapple cre^pes, even French toast one morning, proclaiming them far tastier than any posh hotel brunch they’d encountered. At lunch one day, we emerged from the pool to find a welcoming spread of succulent broiled chicken fajitas with warm, homemade tortillas. The next afternoon brought cool gazpacho, brimming with fresh bay prawns. Menus can be planned in advance, from a fancy dinner party to a picnic, from lobster to hamburguesas. (Groceries are reasonably priced--paid for separately by guests--and purchased by the houseman, who provides a receipt for reimbursement.)

For variety, we stepped beyond our cushy confines a couple of times for lavish dinners al fresco at Las Brisas Hotel’s stunning gourmet Restaurant Bella Vista, and the ritzy cliff-side Casa Nova, which resembles a miniature version of Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas with a killer view. These restaurant meals were affordable, but any bottle with a vintage, from Cristal to the lowliest label of vin de table, is seismically overpriced in most Acapulco eateries. Ordering indiscriminately can easily triple your bill.

We try to avoid the billboards and fast-food joints in the heart of the city, along Avenida Costera Miguel Aleman, venturing there only on the way to somewhere else, such as the barter-for-a-bargain silver markets or the famed cliff-divers’ show at La Quebrada (130-foot leaps! Elvis--or his stuntman--did it in “Fun in Acapulco.”). In the 16th century, when pirates raided galleons, Acapulco was the main terminal for convoys on their way back from the Orient. But little evidence of the country’s colonial past remains, save for the Fuerta de San Diego, in the city center. Worth a visit for history buffs, this 18th century fort is the oldest building in town, and the site of Mexico’s last battle for independence.

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The disco scene still writhes 365 nights a year here, with elaborate, high-priced meat markets, such as Fantasy and Extravaganzza, providing the most pandemonium for your peso. Little extras such as a 2 a.m. fireworks display (Fantasy) or indoor basketball court (Le Dome) keep carousers lined up till dawn to get in. One bar likes to serve “poppers” with style: A customer dons a construction-site hard hat, and the drink is mixed by hitting it on his armored noggin.

A day at the beach was more our speed and we choose the privacy of the Hotel Las Brisas’ La Concha Beach Club over the town’s main stretch of sand (known as the Strip), where the sea is often too polluted for swimming and beaches crowded. For a fee ($26 per person per day), access to La Concha can be arranged for Las Brisas villa renters. After our previous stays at the hotel, we were well acquainted with the club’s prime cove setting, where sea breezes lull you into a trance, and moving from lounge chair to the waves below takes enormous effort.

Our treasured time of day at the villa was twilight. Tiny lights illuminated the bowl of the bay, like diamond chips around a sapphire setting. On our group’s last evening together, the air humid and still, we had a civil, dress-up dinner by candlelight, watching the moon rise and the evening’s first stars. A breeze finally arrived from the sea below, lifting the hem of my silk skirt, rustling palm fronds, stirring the pool’s dark water like a giant’s breath. The cicadas, the crickets, the countless other night visitors we never spied began their singsong chant, always the same harmonious tunes, like a daily recitation to the god of nature.

Try as I did to banish all thoughts of our departure date, alas, our five-night stay ended. But my husband and I refused to let the spell be broken and checked into the Las Brisas Hotel up the hill for two more nights of extended relaxation. Enchanting as it was, we had been spoiled by the villa life.

When the world beyond this bay inevitably drew us back, we gazed down for one last look at Casa Ensueno, just visible from our casita balcony. We could see a new rental party settling into its own ways of escape, stretching out on lounge chairs, opening books, throwing their cares to las brisas.

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GUIDEBOOK: Catching Las Brisas Breezes

Getting there: Delta offers nonstop service to Acapulco from LAX, Aeromexico offers direct service and Mexicana offers connecting service; advance purchase tickets starting at $470 round trip.

Renting villas: Shaffer International Inc., 7000 Lake Country Drive, Suite I, Fort Worth, TX 76179; telephone (800) 521-0066 or (817) 236-6600, Ext. 6601, fax (817) 236-6602. Minimum of 80 homes available in the Las Brisas area. Rates for three to seven bedrooms: $350-$800 per day in low season (April 15 through Dec. 15), $600-$1,500 for the rest of the year. Rates include tax, but not gratuities or food or drink expenses.

Villa Leisure, P.O. Box 1096, Fairfield, CO 06430; tel. (800) 526-4244. Handles approximately 30 homes in Las Brisas area. Rates for three to seven bedrooms: $400-$1,200 per day in low season.

Where to stay: Westin Hotel Las Brisas, Apartado Postal 281, Acapulco, Guerrero, Mexico; tel. (800) 228-3000 for Westin central reservations, 011-52-7-484-1580 for the hotel, fax 011-52-7-484-2269. About $665 for three-bedroom casita in low season with continental breakfast, not including 15% tax or $16 per day, per bedroom gratuity charge.

Where to eat: Restaurant Bella Vista in Westin Las Brisas Hotel; tel. 011-52-7-484-1650. Best view in Acapulco, continental menu. Dinner for two, without drinks, approximately $55. Ristorante Casa Nova, across street from Westin Las Brisas; tel. 011-52-7-484-6815. Italian menu. Dinner for two without drinks, about $50.

For more information: Acapulco city tourist office, at Centro Acapulco; tel. 011-52-7-484-4416.

--L.M.