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Tulum or not Tulum

Sunday, October 2nd, 2005

Tulum, Mexico is a town about an hour south of Playa del Carmen…it’s another beach town, with some Mayan ruins, and it’s supposed to be a backpacker favorite. I arrived and found my hostel pretty quickly (Tulum is pretty small – my book didn’t have a map of the place, but seriously, there’s only one major street). I didn’t do much – it was hot (it’s really hot and humid everywhere I’ve been so far. Like way worse than those really bad days in Chicago, and I just sweat through everything, especially when I’m lugging my backpack around). [read on]

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Playa del Carmen…oh dear, dear Playa

Tuesday, September 27th, 2005

Playa del Carmen is about an hour south of Cancun. I got into town Friday night and walked through town and the thick heat, looking for the hostel I chose from my book. Playa is a much cooler town than Cancun – my first thoughts were of a tropical New Orleans, probably only because there’s a pedestrian-only street where all the action seems to happen – restaurants, bars, and shops. Lots and lots of shops with people trying to lure you in unrelentlessly.

So, I really didn’t do anything in Playa except lay on the beach. That’s it. Oh, and I’d go swimming in the Sea. Then lay on the beach. And then walk the beach and then swim in the sea, and then lay on the beach. The whole coast here is open to the public, not like in Cancun where the hotels own pieces of beach. [read on]

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Meager thoughts on Cancun

Sunday, September 25th, 2005

My Grandma and Grandpa dropped me off at the airport. I was plenty early, checked in, and still had two hours to wait. My first instinct was to grab my phone and call someone to chat away the time. It was kind of like quitting smoking – that dreaded feeling that my vice was no longer there for me and never would be again (of course, I will get a phone again someday, but not for a while). So I just sat there and stared and walked around and stared a little more and then read some, getting used to the feeling of being off by myself. I was still in Chicago, but I did feel like I was in a place quite foreign to me (I was at Midway airport which is quite unfamiliar to me these days). Finally, I boarded the plane, nerves tweaking slightly with anxiety, both good and bad. Of course, being myself, as soon as the plane took off, I passed out for a little snooze. [read on]

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