Driving across the muddy Ameca River— just north of the airport in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico— I adjusted not just the time on my watch (to an hour earlier, providing at least the illusion that merely by crossing into the state of Nayarit I’d earned an extra sixty minutes of relaxation) but my attitude, as well.  The river provides the perfect transition to the more laid back zone I’d just entered.  Just up the...