Tulum

We arrived in Tulum by bus slightly quicker than expected, dropped off at a dusty intersection with a collection of hotels and ticket booths. I snoozed most of the way, while Penny watched a British film about a haunted sheep, dubbed in Spanish (the film, not the sheep)..

A quick taxi ride took us a few minutes down the road to our hotel: a clean, bright room in a small block of 10, built on the powdery white sand of the beach.

Tulum itself is split in two: the hotel zone along the beach, with the ruins at one end, and the town – a fairly standard strip of shops, bars and restaurants along the highway. The town isn’t particularly exciting, though we haven’t headed there in the evening yet. The beach us where the daytime action is, and a beautiful place to stay; a textbook realisation of coconut palms, white sand and perfectly clear blue sea.

Our hotel claimed to be a ‘beach club’ with a small round bar area offering beer and thumping latino beats. We were slightly disappointed not to be staying next door (they hadn’t replied to my email) in one of the beautiful thatched cottage rooms that open out directly onto the beach, especially since we didn’t have hot water until the evening of our second day. But the location couldn’t be better: at night the beach is all but deserted.

On the first night, we walked down the beach to a small Eco hotel and restaurant, serving delicious Thai food. We sat out on a small balcony under the stars, the moon so bright it cast clear shadows. We’ve not fully adjusted to tropical time yet, waking with the sun at 5.30 and getting sleepy after sunset at 6. So why felt like a romantic midnight walk back to our room in fact took place at 8.30pm.

In the morning we walked north along the beach to the ruins. It’s a fairly small site, but the temples set above the beach, framed by deep green palm trees with the cobalt sea behind, are incredible. We arrived as it opened, so had the site pretty much to ourselves.

After an early lunch, Penny had an appointment with a dive school for a ‘tune up’ dive. We were taken just down the road to a small cenote (water filled sinkhole that has broken through to the surface) where Penny could check her diving skills and get a taste of cenote diving. I waited and paddled and let the hundreds of guppies nibble my toes.

Today Penny has an amazing adventure, diving two cenotes – one to 40 metres through a misty, spooky layer of hydrogen sulphide and twisted tree roots, and the other in crystal clear water full of incredible rock formations and teaming with life. It almost makes me wish I could dive!

I’ve got an adventure too, though. I was very excited to discover that the most important Mayan ruin in Yucutan, Chichen Itza, is only a 2 hour bus ride away. So while Penny is playing Jacques Cousteu, I’m off playing Indiana Jones (complete with hat). I just hope I don’t get lost somewhere in Mexico on my own.

Cancun

It didn’t start well. Not the 5.30 alarm, but the two and a half hour delay to the
flight. Then we got on to discover that we were right at the back of cattle class, and didn’t have the extra legroom, premium seats that we’d paid £50 each extra for.

The rude and unsympathetic stewardess simply said that it wasn’t listed on our booking and that the flight was full. We’d have to take it up with them when we got back. Which also means that our return will most likely be in cattle class too.

Looking around at the scum on our plane, we began to worry at the sort if place we were headed to. Package tour hell.

The uncomfortable seats and adequate food weren’t quite negated by the bottle of champagne the chief steward gave us, though his attitude and manner certainly helped. But it was the longest 10 hours of our lives.

Cancun airport was a breeze, and at 6pm local time we made it to our hotel: a middle-aged American’s wet dream in beige marble, fake antiques and gloriously naff chandaliers. We
stayed awake just long enough to enjoy a delicious chataeubriand (Penny tucking into the pink juicy flesh like a well-trained ex-veggie. She makes me so proud), then were
dead to the world.

The following morning, we were woken at 6am by the sunrise of gentle pale blue and yellow, shimmering over the striking azure and marine of the caribbean. The sea was no more than 20 metres from our balcony, across a strip of white sand. We headed out straight away for a pre-breakfast swim.

I’ve never enjoyed ‘beach days’ but yesterday was perfect. A buffet breakfast of unhealthy pastry and sugar, a snooze on the beach then a swim in the pool followed by lunch.

We couldn’t be bothered to go out in the evening, so had room service and an early night.

This morning, as we got our cab to the bus station, I realised we’d made the right choice. The Cancun hotel zone is a 22km strip of architectural nightmares interupted by bad restaurants, cheesy nightclubs for drunk 18-30 types and tat shops. The main cluster is like a cross between Disneyworld and Malaga, without the class or sheer joy of real binge drinking and casual sex (that’s the Malaga bit, obviously, Mikey Mouse doesn’t have an ASBO yet).

If you didn’t leave your hotel, Cancun would be a lovely place to relax. Our hotel was very comfortable, the staff were wonderfully attentive and helpful, the food was great. The sea is an amazing colour and the beaches clean. But that’d be such a waste of holiday time, and it hardly seems worth 10 hours on a plane instead of half that to Greece. But after the few months we’ve had, I’m glad we had the day to wind down.

Right now, we’re in a bus down the coast to Tulum where our holiday starts properly.