Fabulously remote, seriously underdeveloped and stunningly picturesque, this little fishing-surfing village of wooden cabins and winding dirt streets is like an anti-Punta del Este. – Lonely Planet

This incredibly brief description was what inspired us to visit the small beach town of Punta Del Diablo, the town that made me realize how difficult it must be to write a guide-book. I have a great deal of sympathy for whoever was charged with the task of describing the allure of this town in only one paragraph.

One paragraph does not provide enough space to mention the swarms of dragon flies that hover in the sky, like predator drones co-ordinating a sophisticated attack. Or the fishing boats that lie on the beach, moored to ancient pulleys.

Or how it seems like an invisible artist applies a fresh coat of paint to all buildings and signs, ensuring that the sun (which shines constantly and without the interruption of pesky clouds) does not dull the vibrant colors of the town.

A paragraph doesn’t leave room to mention the beaches that stretch for miles and there is certainly no room to describe the millions of uniquely colored specks in each handful of sand.

Our guidebook neglected to mention that the people of Punta Del Diablo haven’t realized the exploitability of tourism or that the phrase ‘all-inclusive resort’ is not in their vocabulary, and so we had no advance warning that conversation had replaced the peso as the town’s official currency.

And while we expected the picturesque dirt roads, we were pleasantly surprised by the scent of wood-burning barbecues that waft through them each evening.

Maybe it’s best to visit the town without expectations. Maybe the brevity of our guide-book was intended as a filter to attract only the most enthusiastic and curious travellers. Regardless, Punta Del Diablo is secret that is impossible to keep.