Beyond Los Arcos, and just as the highway was about to bend into the mountains and leave all semblance of Puerto Vallarta behind, our taxi driver turned onto a bumpy road and headed down a steep slope into a sleepy, dusty Mexican village. “Is this right?” my brother-in-law Jason asked. “I think so,” I replied, but what did I know? I’d never been here before. I had just stared at the map long enough beforehand to know it felt right.