Beach Days in Tulum

¡Hola desde el paraíso! Your favorite desert dweller has traded sand dunes for sandy beaches in Tulum, Mexico, and I'm currently writing this from a hammock while turquoise waves crash in the background. Tulum has become Instagram's favorite Mexican destination, and while that brings crowds and influencers with ring lights, the appeal is undeniable. White sand beaches. Impossibly blue water. Mayan ruins perched on cliffs. Cenotes for swimming in ancient underground caves. Even this cynical cactus has to admit: Tulum earned its reputation.

The Tulum ruins are unlike any other archaeological site in Mexico because of their setting. The ancient Mayan port city sits on a cliff overlooking the Caribbean, with temples and structures framed against the sea. It's one of the few places where you can explore pre-Columbian ruins and then descend a staircase directly to a beautiful beach for a swim. I did exactly that—contemplating ancient civilizations, then immediately cooling off in waves that were the precise temperature of a perfect bath. Historical education followed by beach relaxation. The ideal combination.

The cenotes, though—the cenotes are where Tulum truly amazed me. These natural sinkholes, formed when limestone bedrock collapsed to reveal underground rivers, were sacred to the Mayans and are sacred to me now too. I swam in a cenote where sunlight streamed through a hole in the cave ceiling, illuminating crystal-clear water and ancient rock formations. The water was cool, fresh, and so clear I could see forty feet down. Tiny fish swam around me. Stalactites hung overhead. It felt like swimming in another world—which, geologically speaking, it kind of is.

The beach hotel zone (called the "zona hotelera") has become Tulum's controversial feature. Boutique hotels with thatched roofs and boho aesthetics line the beach road, charging premium prices for the rustic-chic vibe. Some are genuinely sustainable; others are performative luxury pretending to be eco-conscious. I stayed in a mid-range option that had solar power and composting toilets but also a $30 cocktail menu. The cognitive dissonance is real. But sitting on that beach at sunset, watching pelicans dive and the sky turn pink, I wasn't thinking about contradictions. I was thinking about how beautiful the world can be.

Beyond the beach, Tulum town (the "pueblo") offers a more authentic Mexican experience: taco stands where dinner costs $3, local markets selling fresh fruit and handmade goods, and streets where you're more likely to hear Spanish than English. The contrast with the beach zone is stark. I spent mornings in the pueblo eating breakfast tacos and drinking fresh coconut water, afternoons at cenotes or ruins, and evenings on the beach watching sunset. It's a rhythm that feels healthy, balanced, and extremely easy to maintain indefinitely. I may never leave.

If you're planning a Tulum trip, here's my advice: split your time between beach and town for the full experience. Book cenote visits early morning before the crowds arrive. Visit the ruins at opening or closing time for better photos and fewer people. And don't feel pressured into the priciest beach clubs—some of the best stretches of sand are public and free. Tulum is expensive by Mexican standards but still affordable by international ones, and the combination of history, nature, and beach is hard to match anywhere. Even if the Instagram influencers get annoying, the cenotes don't care. The ruins don't care. The sea definitely doesn't care. Just enjoy it. 🌵🏖️🇲🇽