There might not be another place in the world like Melaque. The small Mexican village of 7,000 is an odd, yet charming, blend of authentic Mexican village life, skimboarding, and retired Canadians. It’s probably not the ideal vacation mix you have been dreaming of for your next getaway, but somehow all these factors come together in a uniquely magical way that only those who have been to Melaque will understand.

It was my love of skimboarding that first brought me to Melaque in 2014. Anyone who knows anything about skimboarding can point out this little village on a map. The steep, sandy beaches, both in the town and around the general region called ‘Costa Alegre,’ provide world-class conditions for skimming. As a result, skimboarding pulses through the veins of the town in a way that I can only compare to Laguna Beach, California — the birthplace of the sport.

When school is out and the afternoon wind begins to die, dozens and dozens of the town’s residents flock to the beach to skim the waves before the sun sets. You can ask any grandma in town what skimboarding is, and she will know exactly what you are talking about, as her children and grandchildren most likely practice the sport. When a local skimmer became the first Mexican world champion back in 2019, the town received him with a king’s welcome upon his return home. He was like Usain Bolt returning to Jamaica after winning Olympic gold. That’s skimboarding in Melaque.

I crossed paths with two Melaque-born skimboarders at a contest in Cabo San Lucas in 2013. A friend invited them to stay in our hotel room, and these two skimmers, Gerardo (the future world champion) and Chuy, quickly became lifelong friends. The following year, when I first visited Melaque, they picked me up in a clanky pickup truck and said, “¡Vamos cabrón! We’re going for a ride!” They rolled out the red carpet, taking me on tours of the surrounding hills, inviting me and my mother over to their houses for dinner, and, of course, sharing some waves skimboarding the various beaches around town. That was the first of several trips that I would make to Melaque.

Now, a decade since I first visited the town, I am here once again, this time for a month-long stay (or more). Not a whole lot has changed. The town still lives and breathes skimboarding, even holding an annual contest. Several of the roads have since been paved, which is very convenient, but many of the dusty, rutted streets are still just as I remembered them. As with most Mexican villages, life revolves around the town square with a typical covered kiosk at its center. The smells of fresh churros and tamales loft through the air as children scream and play well past sundown. Street vendors sell trinkets, sweet bread, roasted grasshoppers, and corn on the cob. Trucks with precariously-mounted speakers on their roofs circulate the streets blasting eardrum-rattling announcements of whatever it is they are selling. And, of course, no Mexican village would be complete without the Catholic church across from the plaza, which Melaque’s residents fill to the brim every Sunday.

But aside from the skimboarding, the other quality of the town that you will undoubtedly notice is the retired gringos — predominantly Canadians. Looking for respite from the punishing winter cold of Canada, the snowbirds swell the population of the town in the winter months. They fill up the open-air restaurants at night, lounge on their oceanfront beach chairs during the day, congregate on the same set of steps to watch the sunset every evening, give you on-brand, friendly greetings with their uniquely Canadian vowels, and make their reservations for the following year before their current trip is even over. I’ve noticed if you listen closely to their conversations, it will most likely be about the state of the weather back home. A couple restaurants have even adapted to the Canadian presence, advertising that they put hockey on their TVs and serve poutine, a traditional Canadian dish of french fries, cheese, and gravy.

While there are other foreigners sprinkled into the mix, the Canadian dollars seem to be the lifeline that keeps the town thriving through the winter months. An influx of gringos is nothing out of the ordinary for a warm, coastal Mexican village, but here in Melaque, there must be several hundred of these foreigners staying long-term for the season. Normally, such levels of tourism would turn me off to a destination, causing me to go looking for somewhere less gringo. But, someway, somehow, Melaque stubbornly maintains its authenticity and character enough in the face of tourism to not bother me much. It is a functioning Mexican town with car mechanics, construction workers, taquerias, an elementary school, barbershops, and markets. The tourism hasn’t morphed into the next rendition of Puerto Vallarta, Cabo, or Cancun… yet. And I find that curious.

I sometimes hypothesize why this is. There is an international airport, albeit a small one, just 30 minutes away in the city of Manzanillo, the country’s largest port. The town is a picturesque bay with a big lagoon/harbor at its south end via the town of Barra de Navidad. As you enjoy the tropical sun of the rain-less winter months, whales can be seen breaching in the distance while turtles and colorful fish glide around the waves. It has all the ingredients to become a bigger destination, but for now, it’s just a tiny vacation spot for city-dwelling Mexicans, retired Canadians, skimboarders, and a surf journalist (me).

I can’t help but wonder if one day tourists will love this town to death. Don’t forget that not too long ago Puerto Vallarta was a similarly quiet Mexican village. While I was getting my teeth cleaned (U.S. dentist offices are backed up months for an appointment), the dentist told me that many decades ago it used to all be Americans visiting Melaque. But when the Canadians started coming the Americans started going elsewhere. Now, the dentist tells me, the French Canadians are learning about Melaque and the Anglo-Canadians are not too fond of their presence. Maybe this is just hearsay, but now that I am part of this little town, it’s good to immerse myself in the village gossip.

Life is slow in Melaque, which doesn’t bother me one bit. There is no mall, no movie theater, no amusement park, and no supermarket. There is just the beach and the day-to-day of village life. Most of my Mexican friends who are part of what made this town special to me are gone now. They’ve headed north to the U.S. in search of work, while I head south, to their hometown, in search of… a cheaper place to work, among other things. Oh, the irony. That said, I like how this little village and its inhabitants have woven themselves into my life story. It’s a pleasure to be back and as much as I want to keep visiting new places, I can say with near certainty that this will not be my last visit.