Went to the Mayan Riviera recently in search of paradise. Cancun wasn’t the destination. Nor was Playa Del Carmen. I was going further south to Tulum, home of eco-chic resorts, and an oceanfront Mayan ruin. Sounded good to me. Flew into Cancun with my daughter, who was on Spring break from Paris. Had never been to Cancun, but kinda knew what to expect; ginormous resorts side by side, all-inclusive, ensuring the traveler the most inauthentic Mexican holiday imaginable. But more on that later.

We got the car and drove south through Playa del Carmen, rumored to have one time been cool. Gooch little beachside Italian clubs and restaurants (‘course if I want to see Italians I’ll go to Italy). I’m sorry to report it is Cancun’s little brother Shit Howdy! Slightly more chill, but still one big tourist trap. The de riguer pedestrian walkway is now flooded with inauthentic jewelry, $120 bikinis, sunglass hut after sunglass hut, and the requisite Senor Frogs – and Starbucks. Everything you need for a drunken Spring Break.

So Tulum it was, one long line of eco-chic resorts nestled in the jungle, replete with charming casitas on the beach, open air restaurants, and the requisite hip “Mayan” spas. Much more authentic. No AC. No swimming pools. Just the shimmering Caribbean and her silky sand. And the almighty dollar! Who would of thought that eco-chic was really a way of saying “triple the price of the real Mexico.” Sure, the resorts were spotless with exemplary maid service. Paths were cleared, windows rid of sea salt each and everyday, beds made. But still they were primitive casitas with palapa roofs. The charm was in the rustic appointments, the sea breeze instead of air conditioning. But $325 a night at the Cabanas Capal? For studio Cabanas on a windswept rock ledge where there was no beach?

Cabanas Copal Muy Caro

And the bargain price of $95 for their “garden” cabana? Some garden. A tiny dark room with no windows, surrounded by a thicket of jungle where the air doesn’t circulate? Sure, it would be charming and romantic to go without electricity if there was a breeze. But this was March, the wind was howling non-stop just 20 yards away, but the “charming” jungle had not been thinned and I sweltered like a Vietnam POW. I might even vote for McCain now.

No Electricity

At least get us an overnight fan! And the spas? I thought massages in Mexico were in the $20-30/hr range. But apparently nobody told these folks. Lowest price at any spa I saw was $70/hr. Eco-chic indeed.

Despite the gauging, the coast is lovely, the water an amazing turquoise, and the setting incomparable. When we were there the wind was pretty much constant and the water extremely choppy. We’re told this is common. It makes for great kite surfing, but ocean swimming and snorkeling is another story. And of course there are no waves for surfing of body boarding. I have to say one of the most interesting parts of the trip were the cenotes, the system of underground rivers that runs throughout the peninsula. Cenotes are the occasional holes in the ground where these freshwater oasis are found. The water is clear and drinkable, and you can snorkel through underground caves filled with stalacalites. Plus the sun comes underneath and through these caves casting a brilliant cobalt patina on the water. Capri’s Blue Grottos have nothing on this.

The way cool Cenotes

At the end of the trip I crossed to the other (Pacific) Coast of Mexico, where I got back in touch with my inner primitive Mexican soul. Flew to the southern Pacific coastal resort of Huatulco. La Bahias del Hautulco you say? Never heard of it? You will. This is a big time Mexican resort that was built in the 80′s, failed, and is now experiencing a resurgence. But I didn’t come to go there. I went north (or West) to the fishing village of Puerto Angel. Okay, the Pacific side may not have the turquoise water and the lush tropical jungle, but it’s dry and bug free and untouched and real and everything I was looking for. Zipolite is ther hippy beach that time forgot: same palapas on the beach as Tulum – OK maybe a little more rundown with less vigorous trash collection. But rooms for $20, and hammocks for five. A good meal with cervesa for $5. And that beloved massage on the beach for $20. Plus waves – big ones, that require some restraint. Still, El Pacifico is the place for me.

La Boquilla

Tags: beaches, kite surfing, Mexico, ocean, palapas, paradise, Snorkeling, swimming, travel, tropics