Luxury Without Lights

No phones. No air-conditioning. No television. No electricity! They call this luxury? Italian fashion designer Marcello Murzilli does. And after a blissful week at his Hotelito Desconocido, so do I.

Hotelito Desconocido, a small, ecologically friendly resort on a part of Mexico’s Pacific Coast that is relatively undiscovered, is just the right combination of nature retreat and hedonistic playground.

The hotel is a case study for Murzilli’s vision of a new type of “ecological luxury” resort that he wants to build on stunningly beautiful sites around the world. His goal is to provide affluent travelers with the opportunity to experience the restorative powers of nature while being pampered with stylish surroundings, delicious food, hot showers and healing massages.

My traveling companion, John, and I were drawn to the 30-room resort last December because a verdant hideaway on a beautiful beach appealed to a pair of pale workaholics in need of a break. We first learned of Hotelito in a travel magazine, then did more research on the resort’s Web site. Its remote location and ecological emphasis were added attractions. But the real clinchers were the promises that there would be no telephones or televisions in the rooms, and that in the evenings the whole resort would be illuminated with hundreds of candles and torches.

Sufficiently seduced by what we read, we forked over what sounded like a hefty fee for Mexico--$200 per night for the room and all activities, plus $55 per person for meals--for the promise of a week in nirvana. (Later we learned that these were introductory prices and rates rose soon after we left; see Guidebook.)

We made our first--and possibly only--mistake when we decided to rent a car instead of accepting the hotel’s free pickup from the airport in Puerto Vallarta. We wanted to have the flexibility to explore the area around the resort, in the state of Jalisco. Little did we realize, though, that we would be so entranced by Hotelito’s atmosphere that we would use our convertible Volkswagen only for the trip to and from the airport. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

We arrived in the evening, but the road to Hotelito is too dangerous to drive in the dark, so we spent our first night in one of Puerto Vallarta’s charmless high-rise hotels, filled with hundreds of vacationing norteamericanos.

Full of expectation about our destination, we headed south the next morning on the coastal road. Although the resort is only 60 miles south of Puerto Vallarta, it took us about two hours to get there because of traffic snarls and poor roads. After driving on the two-lane asphalt highway more than an hour, we reached the turnoff to the hotel, a dirt road.

As we bumped along, passing skinny cows and parched shrubbery for more than half an hour, we wondered if paradise could really be located just a few miles away. But our doubts were obliterated when we drove through Hotelito’s gates, past a garden replete with organic fruits and vegetables, and took our first glimpse of the lush environs of the resort.

We were met by a cheery woman named Fernanda, who showed us around the grounds and briefed us on the resort’s one rule: no paper in the toilets because of the delicate water purification system. The wind- and solar-powered system was designed by Mexican ecologists, and the water is recycled and purified before being used to water the garden.

We walked past thatched-roof guest cottages called palafitos, where most guests stay, and boarded a tiny rowboat. Lured by the prospect of being lulled to sleep each night by crashing waves, we had chosen a room on the beach, accessible only by boat across the estuary.

Before exploring our room, though, we headed straight to the surf. I was so delighted by the endless stretch of virgin beach and the huge aquamarine waves that I found myself literally jumping up and down, celebrating the wonderful place we had found.

Then we took a look around our room. Compared with the more elegant palafito suites, which have large balconies, king beds and colorful Mexican art (and stand on stilts over the estuary, reminiscent of South Seas overwater bungalows), the decor of our smaller beach lodging was more rustic, but very charming nonetheless.

The adobe-like walls were of bamboo and mud. Shutters opened to let in the ever-present, cooling northwest breezes. Under a vaulted, thatched ceiling stood a queen-size bed with mosquito netting as a canopy. The room had some local arts-and-crafts touches: The tiles on the sink, for example, were hand painted with green turtles. In the evening, the staff lighted half a dozen candles in colorfully painted lanterns, which gave the room a warm glow.

The large, open-air shower had narrow wood slats that let in light and breezes from outside. (Tall guests can actually look out at the ocean over the top of the stall while showering.) Our hot water rarely ran out, and then only after one of us had taken an indulgently long shower. But some guests complained of cold water. The hotel also provided biodegradable soap, shampoo, conditioner and lotion, and encouraged guests not to use their own products.

Our room’s small back porch, with comfortable cushioned bench, overlooked the lagoon and was a perfect place for watching the sunrise. And we guessed right about the rhythmic pounding of the waves lulling us to sleep.

The cuisine at Hotelito, served in an open-air restaurant on the beach, is healthy but imaginative Mexican fare, heavy on seafood--from grilled catch of the day, to crab empanadas, to an appetizer of octopus and shrimp in a light broth with chopped jalapenos, sweet peppers and lime. The fresh produce comes straight from the garden, the guacamole is sublime and the cooks make their own tortillas. (Although the chefs try to accommodate special dietary needs, one guest who was allergic to seafood found herself getting pretty sick of quesadillas.)

Breakfasts were huge, lunches included four courses and dinners started latish and stretched to take up most of the evening. The nights opened with perfect margaritas made with home-grown limes. On several evenings during our weeklong stay, a local mariachi band serenaded us while we feasted.

The resort’s special magic comes alive after dusk, when the staff lights hundreds of candles and torches around the property. The paths between the restaurant and the guest rooms shimmer in the light of the tiny flames. During the day, we sampled just about every activity the resort offers, all included in the room price. One afternoon, we went on a long, guided horseback ride down the beach and were treated to spectacular views of a pristine lake and purple mountains. One morning, we woke up early to go on a bird-watching tour by rowboat on the brackish estuary. We saw stately blue herons and elegant egrets, and even watched some bright pink spoonbills flying overhead.

We tried both of the masseuses at Hotelito’s spa. Gabriela had by far the stronger following. Happy veterans of her powerful workovers told war stories over lunch. The hotel also offers other treatments, including facials.

John joined some pickup beach volleyball games with other guests, and I took long walks and jogs along the beach; several times I walked for more than an hour in one direction without seeing another person. In the evenings before dinner, we joined other guests at the open-air spa for steam baths, some following up with a bracing dip in a tiny pool.

Best of all, since the resort sits on a government-protected turtle nesting ground, twice after dinner we were lucky enough to help release hundreds of baby turtles, watching them make their way awkwardly across the sand into the pounding surf. (The turtle nesting season is June through December.)

The eclectic clientele at Hotelito added to our fun. Many guests were European; the rest were from the United States, Mexico and South America. Since the hotel discourages bringing children, most were youngish couples or singles, plus a few retired people.

Some of the advertised activities were disappointing. Twice we dragged ourselves out of bed for morning yoga only to be told that the class had been canceled. Although mountain biking was listed, no one at the hotel had any suggestions about where to ride, and the only two bicycles available had broken brakes and gears. They could withstand just a short ride into Cruz de Loreto, the sleepy town nearby where Hotelito keeps its refrigerator and where many of the resort’s employees live. During our visit, the staff also had little advice about possible outings from the resort, and we discovered that one option, snorkeling, was impossible because the road to the nearest snorkeling beaches had been washed out by winter storms.

Swimming, in fact, is not one of Hotelito’s strong suits, a fairly serious shortcoming for a beach resort. Because the undertow is so strong and the waves are so powerful here, guests are advised not to go in the ocean at all. There was only one afternoon when the water seemed calm enough to risk a short but glorious swim in the temperate water. (The estuary is swimmable but didn’t seem very alluring.) John found the saltwater swimming pool refreshingly cool, but hardly a replacement for frolicking in the surf. After putting my toe into the pool to feel how chilly it was, I never ventured in.

But during our winter visit, the temperatures only reached into the 80s and a steady (sometimes too strong) wind was dependable. I found long afternoons on the beach comfortable without dips in any water hole. (Summers are hotter but still pleasantly breezy; Hotelito closes during hurricane season, the last week in September to mid-October.)

Marcello Murzilli, an eccentric, exuberant man who made his fortune on Charro jeans, visited the resort while we were there. He was eager to regale guests with stories of how he discovered the hotel’s site and how he painstakingly designed and built it while living in a tent on the beach.

In a heavy Italian accent, he told of how a local charro, or cowboy, first brought him by horseback to the spot where the estuary is separated from the ocean by a thin strip of land. He said he knew immediately he had found the place he had been looking for.

Murzilli has already started to redirect his attention to another remote spot in Mexico, on the Yucatan Peninsula near Tulum. There he hopes to build a second Hotelito, far from the hectic environs of Cancun and Cozumel.

But for now, the Yucatan hotel remains a dream. The occupancy rate at Hotelito has averaged a disappointing 40%. American travel agents have resisted the concept of the eco-resort, arguing that their customers will never pay top dollar for a holiday that does not include modern conveniences.

But Murzilli thinks differently. “There will always be a Hotelito mood, simple--but in a way sophisticated--and small. Guests must be able to feel like they’re at home,” he said.

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GUIDEBOOK

An Eco-Stylish Resort

Getting there: Alaska and Aeromexico airlines have nonstop flights to Puerto Vallarta, and Mexicana and American have connecting service involving a change of planes. Restricted economy fares begin at $283 round trip. Hotelito Desconocido is 60 miles south of Puerto Vallarta, but the drive takes nearly two hours. The hotel can arrange to pick you up at the airport.

Where to stay: Hotelito Desconocido, Cruz de Loreto, Jalisco, Mexico. For reservations, call the hotel’s Los Angeles office toll-free at (877) 486-3372, fax (310) 385-1908; or call the Puerto Vallarta office at (800) 851-1143 or 011-52- 322-22-526, fax 011-52- 322-302-93, Internet https:// www.hotelito.com. Rates are $195 per person per day, based on double occupancy, for rooms in the main compound or on the beach. More luxurious palafito suites on the estuary are $235 per person (add 17% tax). Rates include all meals and activities (horseback riding, windsurfing, bird-watching boat rides), but do not include spa treatments or alcoholic drinks, for which you pay American prices. Rates rise about 25% from January to April 30; special rates for the New Year (there are still rooms available) are about $450 per person.