| 25 Years in Paradise... Hotel Villa del Sol |
December 2003
In the early 1970’s, some of Mexico’s most enticing beaches were yet to be discovered. A young, adventurous German engineer named Helmut Leins wanted to change that. He wanted to create a resort so intimate and so exclusive that it would forever define luxury in Mexico. When he finally encountered the seaside village of Zihuatanejo and its stunning beach 155 miles up the coast from Acapulco, he knew he had found the perfect location to realize his dream. His passion and vision came to life in one of the most enchanting beach getaways anywhere – The Villa del Sol.
Today, the award-winning Villa del Sol is more magnificent than ever and is celebrating 25 Years in Paradise. To commemorate this achievement, I have written a book to tell the story of the hotel’s owner, Helmut Leins, and his endeavor to create one of the finest properties in the world. The following is an excerpt from the book (25Years in Paradise… Hotel Villa del Sol) which is to be published in early January 2004.
The Discovery
Far from the calm shores of Zihuatanejo, Helmut Leins was busy at work in Munich, Germany. Born in Stuttgart, raised and educated in Freiburg and Konstanz, Helmut was a diligent, driven engineer. Having made career stops in Zurich and Düsseldorf, he opened his own company in Munich in 1964. His work hours were long, and the European winters longer. Sunshine was always high on the priority list. As the chill of December fell upon Germany, it was time to find some warmth, an ocean, white sands, and swaying palms…someplace tropical.
Helmut searched carefully for the perfect beach and the place to spend his precious vacations. After globetrotting to the Bahamas, Bermuda, Africa and Jamaica, it was finally time to try Mexico. In his usual disciplined style, Helmut began to gather information about potential beach resorts along the Pacific coast. He ruled out Acapulco and Puerto Vallarta, as his heart was set on somewhere more peaceful and secluded. A good friend of Helmut’s had returned from a visit to California and told of flying in a small private plane to an isolated town in Mexico whose name he “couldn’t remember.” The friend described a tiny airstrip in the middle of a jungle village with beautiful, unspoiled beaches. Helmut was intrigued. This could be what he had envisioned. It took a bit of research, but Helmut discovered his mystery location was a place called Zihuatanejo.
It was the winter of 1969, and without today’s modern airline conveniences, it was a lengthy trip to paradise. The flight took off from Europe, stopped in New Orleans and continued on to Mexico City. From there, twice a day a four-seater plane departed to Zihuatanejo’s airstrip. Considering this growing town was still very rural, the pilot would make an initial pass over the airstrip to scare away the cows and then approach a second time for the actual landing. Helmut’s search was about to be fulfilled.
One taxi and one private car were the sole means of transportation from the “airport.” Not knowing exactly where he wanted to go, Helmut opted for the taxi. His Spanish was less than functional, but he managed to ask the driver to just take him around the area so he could get an idea of what was what. Miles of coconut palms, mango trees, papaya trees, and thick jungle lined the dirt roads that snaked their way to the shore. The quaint, colorful settlement was filled with fishermen, had an open-air market, a few rudimentary shops, a handful of small restaurants and kiosks, and not much else. After a quick ride through the town, the taxi eventually made its way up to a scenic outlook above the calm waters of Zihuatanejo Bay. “It was breathtaking,” Helmut recalls, “just as it is today.” The taxi rolled on and Helmut soon found himself at the Sotavento hotel, perched on a cliff and presiding as one of few hotels in town. After exploring the hotel’s facilities, he made his way down to the shimmering shores of Playa la Ropa, and he was hooked.
Helmut fell in love with this beach. He had traveled the world and never seen anything like it. He was convinced that La Ropa Beach would become his permanent vacation spot. He returned in 1971, again in 1973, and in 1974 bought 2,800 square meters (about 7/10th of an acre) of beachfront property. It didn’t take much to put up a tiny, but comfortable one-bedroom house. It had one light bulb, a hand-woven hammock, and a garden hose tied to a palm tree for a shower. A palapa-style roof protected him from the elements and the décor wasn’t a factor. Though his beach hideaway was bohemian, Helmut treasured the simplicity. Each time he returned to Zihuatanejo, he became more enamored. The undeniable charm of the people, the local traditions, and the slow pace inspired Helmut to think seriously about building a small hotel here himself. Nonetheless, he had to be absolutely sure this was “the place.”
The beach search would take Helmut up and down Mexico’s Pacific coast once more. He confirmed his earlier discoveries that Acapulco was too hot in the summer and Los Cabos too cold in the winter. Puerto Vallarta was already becoming too developed and Huatulco was too far south. The beaches of the Caribbean were breathtaking, but there was too much rain and uncertain weather patterns. So, he ended up where he started. No other resort rivaled Zihuatanejo and the quiet shores of La Ropa. “It’s funny,” Helmut says, “nobody really thinks about why this is the best beach in Mexico… and I did.” As for the specifics, Helmut made a list of the reasons why.
“First, the Sierra Madre Mountains are very close in so they protect the bay. Next, it’s imperative that a beach faces the southwest so most of the time people on the beach have the sun in front of them, not behind them. A beach must also be long enough so you can walk a significant distance, but not be endless. (La Ropa is almost a mile long.) A beach must be wide enough for activities on the sand, yet still have plenty of space for a hotel to have a private beach club area. There should be a very small difference between high and low tides. And finally,” Helmut says emphatically, “there should be no stones, sea animals, or corals in the water. There should not be any obstacles. You have to be able to walk right in on the soft sand.” For Helmut, and for any beach connoisseur for that matter, this is the perfect beach. “That’s what I found here,” Helmut says with a smile.
In 1977, with the quest for the “best beach” decidedly over, Helmut was relaxing in his cozy little hut contemplating his options. It was heaven as usual, and the ultimate respite from the usual dreary German winter. As his hammock swung quietly with the ocean breeze and the orange and red hues of another perfect Mexican sunset melted below the warm waters of Zihuatanejo Bay, he asked himself, “What am I doing in Germany? I get up at six in the morning and come home after dark. I’m tired. It’s cold. Why do I want to stay there?” After answering his own questions, it all became very clear - Move to Zihuatanejo for good. That Christmas Helmut Leins returned to Munich, tied up his loose ends, sold everything he owned, and four months later returned to Mexico with a huge steel box of tools, a drawing board, and a dream.
* The book will retail for $30 USD and will be available at the Hotel Villa del Sol in January 2004.
Born and raised in Scottsdale, Arizona, Lisa Coleman has been traveling to Mexico for almost 20 years. Lisa has published more than 180 articles about Mexico in various newspapers and magazines across the U.S. and Canada. Considered and expert on the subject, she was the winner of the 2000 Pluma de Plata Award (the highest honor given to a journalist by the Mexico Ministry of Tourism). Lisa first visited the Villa del Sol in 1993 and has visited several times a year ever since. She considers Zihuatanejo her “home away from home.” |
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