6 - 7th Dec 2003.

We had expectations of ritz, glitz, top clubs, bars, beach cocktails, some serious cliff diving and a little bit of gratuitous looking sideways from sun loungers at the beautiful people of a seaside resort.

What we found was a little different, as Acapulco is to Mexico what the Costa Del Sol is to Spain, without the hords of drunk, half-naked, Northern English that make the people watching fun.

We found the world famous Acapulco cliff divers. The midday show was running on Mexican time and this young nutter was still stocking the beer fridge long after the show should have started.

At first we thought this bloke had cottoned on to a novel variation on the sex tourism industry selling hot dogs in his dick togs.

Now it's on to the serious arsing about.

These two have finished stocking the fridge and after a lot of pouncing about, limbering up, cock grabbing (not joking) and generally looking cool they get down to the serious business of pointing out the best looking chicks in the crowd. From 35 metres up the window shopping is good and they both lock on to chicks to impress.

This bloke obviously didn't allow for the drag factor of his enormous moustache and quickly started over rotating only to surprise and woooo the ladies in the crowd with a summersault.... before exiting the water to grab his balls in an "I'm mad and available" kind of way.

The bit we didn't quite understand is how they dived out far enough not to hit the bottom of the cliff?

The divers stood around the exit after the show hawking for tips on top of the entrance fee already paid. Jason tried to encourage Claire to give them a tip about not grabbing their balls all the time in the warm-up but she got cold feet.

Acapulco proper is split into 3 areas; the old town (where we stayed) is run down but it has beach front that is covered in locals on the weekend, the centre of town is hidden away from the shore and rarely ventured into by tourists and then across the bay from us is the glitzy, ritzy high rise hotels and tacky bars and clubs.

Wherever you go in Acapulco, no-one seems to understand "No, NO or NOOO" be it fish, boat trips, hammocks, hair braiding, beads, or other tacky gifts.

Claire had visions of relaxing with cocktails on the beach, the reality was beach sellers standing over you, kicking you with sand and standing in the sun to grab your attention, whilst calling you their amigo every two minutes.

Most beach activities in Acapulco involve either slaughtering majestic fish or buring fossil fuels in those scurges of the ocean the jet ski or jet bike. For US$10 you can quickly rent one of these things and be out killing swimmers after 30 seconds tuition on how to use it.

.... The fish in town was good... but we've had nothing but fish for over a week now!

Everybody's favourite bread company is run by BIMBO... these vans are everywhere and make us smile a lot.

We also went out to sample the nightlife in was a little disappointing (in a Vegas kind of way). The clubs and bars all offered circa US$20 to get in with all you can drink dodgy spirits thrown in. We quickly realised the whole scene was geared towards American university holidays and they weren't on holiday yet. The clubs were emptyish, the music was shite and it all felt a bit shallow and souless through the haze of poorly distilled, cheap grog and muppets dancing on podiums. This place is either in decline, totally out of season, or it never was an Ibiza.

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