Acapulco: take two

It was a balmy evening in Acapulco, and up and down the town's main drag, the college party crowd was again on its nightly pub crawl, belting out one too many Jimmy Buffett tunes and guzzling a few too many Coronas. Nearby, the famous La Quebrada cliff divers had finished the evening's last show, sending moms and dads to Planet Hollywood to keep their antsy kids distracted, as two hulking cruise ships sat towering on the waterfront.

But on the other side of Acapulco Bay, perched high above the tourism mayhem, a stark wood-and-glass pavilion offered an escape hatch from the city's cliches. Inside, a sparkling white restaurant opened up like a giant flashbulb onto the glittering coastline beyond, with house music throbbing to the clinking of wineglasses and the clattering of stilettos on polished concrete floors. A crowd of young Mexicans in open-collar Gucci shirts and fluttering dresses circulated about, perhaps hoping to catch a glimpse of the actress Tara Reid, the singer Luis Miguel and the other boldfaced names who had been spotted there recently.

"It's fantastic, no?" said Angelo Pavia, the owner of the restaurant Becco al Mare, marveling at his own creation as he swooped his hand across the soaring space for emphasis. "I would never think to make this restaurant like this. But my son and daughter? Yes."

Jarring words, given that Acapulco has long seemed like a place only your parents could love. For many, this resort city of more than 700,000 people on Mexico's southern Pacific coast is synonymous not with upscale chic, but with tourist hell: cruise ships unloading high-decibel families, spring breakers sloshing through drinks-to-go. Even the word itself, "Acapulco," can sound a bit over-giddy, a name forever resonating in the shrieks of hyperventilating housewives winning vacation packages on The Price Is Right.

But Acapulco is having its second act, reappearing from the fanny pack-strewn beaches to recapture its faded Hollywood glory. Between the new luxury condominiums rising in Diamond Point and the vintage modernist villas in Las Brisas, a necklace of sleek new restaurants, fashionable nightclubs and designer hotels is drawing the glitterati back to the city's azure shores. Even legendary resorts are getting a makeover, like old movie stars staging a comeback.

One thing that remains unchanged, however, is Acapulco's natural beauty. Hugging the calm, crystal-blue waters of Acapulco Bay, the city cascades from the Sierra Madre, forming a yawning, near-perfect crescent ringed by rocky cliffs, palm-feathered slopes and stretches of powdery golden sand. And it was this striking topography, along with the dependably flawless weather, that once made Acapulco an unrivaled playground for the 20th-century beau monde.

At its peak, Acapulco was a haunt of Frank Sinatra and the Rat Pack, where Elizabeth Taylor married Mike Todd (the third of her eight weddings) and John and Jacqueline Kennedy headed for their honeymoon (as did a young Bill and Hillary Clinton). Howard Hughes spent his last days at the Acapulco Princess hotel. Lana Turner had a place overlooking the water, as did John Wayne. And well before the crew of Girls Gone Wild came trolling the beaches for spring-break shenanigans, Fun in Acapulco was not just a 1963 film starring a dashing Elvis Presley but an international shorthand for glamor.