Editor Pick
Victor's
- October 1, 2000
- Rated 4 of 5 by
El Gallo from Monkey Junction, Newfoundland, Afghanistan
There are about 20 restaurants along the north end of the beach--and NOTHING south of them. Victor's is the last one as you walk south from the beach pier, the first you'll hit if you came over to the village pier. Walking south you'll have to break a few tackles from the obese but determined Lety and her minions--they'll drag you right in and start fattening you up. Keep on trucking, Victor's is worth it--he's got a sign out front saying "Victor's Viejo Viento".
Many of the other palapas have big sound systems playing rap and crap. If you want that, fine. And many are full of drunken gringos. Victor has a stereo, but tends to like sixties music, jazz, and non-obnoxious Mexican music. He doesn't serve alcohol--but you can always step next door and buy a beer.
Victor is probably the best cook on the beach, with a menu that tends to feature the best deals he got from the fishermen that morning. Most people get big plates of shrimp or fish, with fries or onion rings, slices of fruit, and salad. Pretty expensive by Island standards--maybe $3. And they'll make you a quesadilla if you want. For desert, just sit tight, somebody will come by selling you peanuts or coconut candy or, best of all, flan and cake sold by the most gorgeous little honey on the Island. Watch out though: she divorced the crazy cop, but he still feels proprietary.
There's just special about Victor's. It could be the hammocks, but other places have those. Or the friendly service from Victor (who speaks English), his terrific wife Alma (who's trying to learn) and their wild-ass, beautiful little kid Sirio (named after Sirius, the star). Or it could be that they've turned the place into a very charming garden, instead of just hacking the back up into rental rooms. Walking to the restrooms in Victor's (the painted lips on the wall means, "Ladies", the mustache means, "Caballeros") is an experience. Banana trees, bromeliads, pineapples, lilies and nameless tropical plants create a sort of mini-eden and the kiosk where Victor takes his nap is festooned with giant clams, dolphin skulls, whale bones, and such.
People just keep coming back to Victor's (notice the display of license plates from U.S. states and Canadian provinces) and you sometimes meet some very interesting folks there. Victor is the perfect guide: to the island, the sea, local politics, and philosophy of life ala Mexicana. Just show up, grab a table and hammock, head for the water. When you're thirsty, they'll brink you a soda (try the local Toni-col, by the way), when you're hungry they'll feed you. Use their bath and shower, pay some strolling musicians to play a song or two, kick back, unlax.
From journal Rural, empty beach a boat ride from "civilization"