Vallarta is an endless sound box: music in the streets and in the houses, mariachi music in every corner and balcony, all the rage in bars and places, day in and day out. Sounds of the town, like water and gas trucks, with drivers shouting WATER!!! or GAS!!! from the decks.

They make me smile as if it always were the first time I hear them.The tolling church bells hit me like a ton of bricks and make me cotton on to the reality of a lovely Mexican town. The sound of the raging Pacific Ocean that cuddles us liltingly from one side to the other of the seawall, and the beach, swaying amazingly. A resounding multitude of kids, laughter, complete rejoicing at the end of the school day as they carry their cookies in their hands, frolicking on a Sunday at the beach or just flapping and flipping in the river.

The sound of the pouring rain that becomes the most delightful companion for months to soothe the balmy and slow afternoons.A soul refresher that drives off the strain and the bad temper, gets us better and makes us smile, eager to dance under its drops of magic and power. The roaring thunders make us aware of our tiny existence. Vallarta is a symphony of sounds, noises, dins, melodies, romantic whispers, sighs, palpitations and silences.