Life in troncones,
majahua & saladita

There are surf contests. There are beach parties. And then there is the Mexico Surf Film Festival—a showcase of 22 short surf films over three nights—a blend of local nightlife and international films that celebrate surf culture. Don’t let the relaxed vibes fool you. This is the end of a demanding competition.

Every morning there’s a soft clicking coming from the birds of paradise outside your window. When you look, you catch a glimpse of a small, fast-moving bird and then it’s gone. You hear it called a “chuparosa”. What bird is that?

Along Mexico’s Pacific coast lives the American crocodile [Crocodylus acutus]. Its range stretches from southern Florida through Mexico, Central America, the Caribbean and into northern South America. It’s a coastal species, built for estuaries, mangroves, lagoons and saltwater marshes. Unlike freshwater crocodilians, American crocodiles tolerate and even prefer brackish and saltwater environments. They will occasionally enter the open ocean, especially when moving between estuaries.

Local animal care/spay & neuter non-profit Surfers for Strays is in the midst of planning its third annual spring festival—a scrappy-heartfelt-slightly improvised community event—a unique reggae concert, surf gathering, kids’ workshop, grassroots fundraiser—to held in Saladita, Troncones and Zihuatanejo on three consecutive nights in late March. It’s a lot. But why not? It’s a good time—part road show, part music festival, part education platform, part animal-welfare fundraiser—each part a reminder that in this part of the world everything is connected.

María Jetzabel, at the T in Troncones. At one end of the property, Josefina stands over a pan set on the flame, watching a fish as it hits hot oil. At the other end, her daughter María Jetzabel builds Tostilocos for a younger crowd—lime, chamoy, noodles, chips, candy, something crunchy and bright, served in a cup or bag. Same name. Same family. Two very different restaurants, side-by-side in a town that’s evolving around them.

It’s a rolling community center, farmers market and treasure chest—all in one—the fruit truck. It’s in Troncones somewhere, every other day. It’s always surrounded by people smiling. The guys on the truck—brothers Brayan and Jonathan Moctezuma Acosta—are part of the reason why they’re smiling. That and their produce, which is exactly what you need, even if you didn’t know you needed it.