India, Jan. 30 -- My love affair with Mexico began on wheels. I was 9 years old, wide-eyed and glued to the window of an overnight bus, watching the world transform as my family descended the mountains from Mexico City to the sun-baked beaches of Zihuatanejo. Years later, on my own solo four-month backpacking trip across the country, I'd find myself clutching the armrest during a death-defying, 10-hour drive along the serpentine roads between Oaxaca and Puerto Escondido. There was also the seemingly endless (and visually repetitive) drive from the party beaches of Playa del Carmen to the dreamy swath of blues in Bacalar and Mahahual. And then there were the nameless dirt roads, tackled on the back of a motorcycle, which led to hidden beac...