This time I really did it--the traveler's nightmare--I left my wallet with my passport, tickets and money in the back seat of the cab from the airport.

The scene at the Acapulco Airport was a bit too tipico for my taste. Dozens of people were in my face, hawking hotels and rides. Being the savvy traveler, I had checked the web before I left and was instructed to ignore everyone and go directly to the official in the transport booth. Great advice, except there were 6 booths and 4 of them had bellowing people leaning out of them.

My elementary Spanish vaporizes in these circumstances. I looked pleadingly up at my porter who responded by shrugging his shoulders. As I tried to compose myself, the porter was discreetly shepherding me to a waiting cab. Scarcely nodding when I asked him if it was OK, I knew he had responded to my plea, but unobtrusively, to keep peace with his associates. The cab, a collectivo one shares with others, took off for Acapulco with one other passenger.

Our driver seemed very nice. I chatted with him all the way to the hotel. I used the great icebreaker "Patiente, por favor, tengo practicar mi espanol." "Please be patient, I need to practice my Spanish." The driver told me I spoke very well, which I took to mean for one who doesn't speak Spanish --Mexicans are very supportive teachers.

Arriving at Las Brisas, I was, indeed, greeted by soft breezes and a frothy pink frozen punch. The congenial staff had me checked in and whisked up the hills to my pink and white casita pronto. Las Brisas is 300 individual casitas built into the hillside above Acapulco Bay. Everyone gets around in pink and white jeeps.

Blissfully unaware of my blunder, I settled into my casita, decorated in Las Brisas' official colors; yep, pink and white. A bit of pink on the otherwise white walls, a pink and green tropical chintz covering the bed, sofa and easy chairs. Indeed, spots of pink are everywhere, but not a single flamingo.

A lovely rough stone wall backs the beds. Mahogany woodwork and plantation shutters add warmth. There are cooling marble floors, a ceiling fan (air conditioning if you must), a wet bar (ice refilled unbidden), purified water and a dressing area.

The tulipan (hibiscus to us Norte Americanos) is the Las Brisas flower. It's everywhere, in the chintz, on the towels and fresh blossoms in bouquets around the room.

I was on my balcony taking in the view when the phone rang. The front desk wanted to know if I had everything. I assured them I did. A moment later, they rang again saying a taxi man had found a wallet in his cab with my name in it--OHMYGOD--what had I done?

Heart racing, dumbfounded by both my stupidity and my good luck, I rushed to the office and tried not to pace as I waited for the driver. I was, after all, in Mexico, with its repeated tales of robber cab drivers. And I get one who is driving 30 minutes across Acapulco to return the wallet I stupidly left in his back seat.

Arriving, all smiles, the driver made me check that everything was there--it was. I couldn't resist hugging him and telling him both God and my mother blessed him.

"When you get out of a cab, be sure to look all around you," he advised me, turning his head from side to side like a kindergarten teacher, "and make sure you haven't left anything behind." I knew right then this would be a wonderful trip with such kind strangers in my path.

Needing to chill out, I returned to my casita to use its pièce de résistance --my own private pool. Swishing through the floating pink hibiscus and white alameda flowers, I swam to the sound of  palms rustling, green against the azure sky. 

If forced, I could spend a year on this balcony. Imagine yourself high in left field of a giant football stadium, then replace the field with a turquoise blue/green bay and the bleachers with a symphony of green in the form of palms, mango, banana and rubber trees and highlighted by electric-pink bougainvillea. Now, hear the soft Mexican guitar music float up from some cantina and watch the egg-yoke yellow butterflies flit about. Now you have just the barest notion of how delightful I found my balcony.

To maintain my newfound equanimity, I ordered 'balcony service.' An inspired decision. First, I was entertained by a storm blowing across Acapulco Bay which cleared just in time for a resplendent sunset. Dinner was so good, there is a complete review in Memorable Menus.

Speaking of eating, Las Brisas has 24-hour room service. Trays, covered with pink napkins, arrive by jeep. The waiters are especially trained to hold the tray out the window with one hand and drive with the other.

Magically each morning, a thermos of coffee, a basket of rolls and a dish of fruit is placed in a pass-through cubicle by your door. This repast is best enjoyed by your pool, contemplating the tropical floating-Monet floral arrangement.

Of course, you'll want to be careful of the sun. To that end, Las Brisas includes SPF #15 sun protection lotion among their Garden Bontanika amenities. I also loved the soothing, fragrant almond after-sun lotion which reminded me of my grandmother.

If one actually wanted to leave this hillside Shangri-la, a call to the desk brings one of those pink and white jeeps to deliver you to your resort destination. To my mind, there are exactly two places worth going--but then I'm not overactive. First, near sunset, head up to the Sunset Bar, open just a few hours each day to catch the knock-out sunsets and maybe the green flash.

Then one could hardly come to Acapulco and not go to the beach. Las Brisas's La Concha is a private beach club across the road. The hotel provides a shuttle. Here you'll find two large pools, one fresh water and one open to the sea, a fun resort shop and plenty of lounges both 'sol y somber.' I enjoyed a very satisfactory fish taco lunch at La Concha's open-air, palapa-covered seafood restaurant.

But don't let me lead you astray, Las Brisas has lots for its active guests as well. Play tennis under the sun (or stars,) snorkel or scuba dive from the water sports center at La Concha or play golf nearby. Just because I had to skip Anthony Hopkins in The Mask of Zorro and Sean Connery in Highlander, the movies showing at Las Brisas when I was there, doesn't mean everyone does.