All Alone in Paradise

One of those trips had concluded, the kind of Las Vegas layover that you expect to be filled with a workout and a lot of sleep but instead ends up being a fun crew that found last minute tickets to see Ricky Martin in Las Vegas. Yes, that Ricky Martin. He's still just as sexy, and still can shake his bon bon while wearing glitter from head to beautiful toe. 

The moment I walked outside the airport with my suitcase by my side, I instantly regretted coming home to a place very much devoid of glitter or color. The sky in Vegas, so clear and filled with desert sunshine, was now a Manhattan cold joyless gray, a reminder that winter still lingered, the weirdo who stays longer than welcomed at a party. I could feel the anxiety rising from people's skin like angry steam. Where is Spring? When will Winter finally die? Years from now we will all be talking about The Great Winter of 2018 that stretched as far as the calendar could see. May flurries, we'll shake our heads with disbelief. It was a tragic time. 

I didn't want this reality, I wanted to be the woman stretched out on a hammock and glistening in the sunlight, diving into a cave trapped in the ocean among turtles and algae. I wanted to become a mermaid. I was a pretty good swimmer, faster than the slowest swimmer on my swim team in 7th grade, so this seemed like the appropriate path. 

Somehow my suitcase understood this and gathered together a half hazard collection of vaguely matching bathing suits and snorkel gear, a few sun dresses, and selected a pair of sunglasses for my pale, wintery face. I slept three hours and went back to the airport first thing the next morning. This is how everyone should make all of their decisions. Instinct. 

spoiler alert, this is me. dreams really can come true. you just have to believe. listen to your inner hammock. see the hammock. be the hammock. 

My only goal was to never feel compelled or obligated to speak to a guy with a high beer belly quotient. I must say, this task was overwhelmingly successful. I hopped on a flight to Mexico, but where in Mexico should I go? 

I would never go to Cancun unless forced to. Cancun is that kid in school who sneaks out at night to drink and convince all the girls that he's the new judge for the wet t-shirt contest. Tulum is the chill older sister who wants to watch the sunset and the world go by as she's sipping on a beach cocktail in the sand. Cancun joins a frat, Tulum joins a hippie commune. 

So Tulum, obviously.  

My first unfortunate mistake was booking a five star all inclusive resort with a private beach. 

Infinity pools just have that something special to them. I could just stay in them... for infinity. 

It might seem a little awkward to call this choice a mistake, but if I had to redo this mini getaway I would have gotten a hostel or even just a smaller, quainter hotel along the coast that didn't cause me to get lost each morning finding my way to the main infinity pool. (I admit this would happen in any hotel, because I have the inner compass of a goldfish.) Trapped in comfort and luxury, it wasn't a free spirited, mingling environment; more like a couples only, rich families only, why are you here by yourself? kind of environment. 

But I didn't hate it; I'm not insane. I enjoy nice things. I had booked it with rewards points I'd gotten from my airline for good customer service surveys. It was gorgeous and lovely, and I was in a certain kind of comfortable heaven that I couldn't complain about. Integrated into nature with lush vegetation around the pathways and gazebos, the resort featured six different and equally amazing restaurants, about nine different pools around the complex, tennis courts, beach volleyball, a pool bar, free room service, and excellent staff who were gracious and accommodating. My room opened up to a pool that was private for the building, the edges wrapping around like a moat. There was a wedding taking place the afternoon of my arrival. It was a very romantic time. 

Of particularly notable mention : the restaurant El Patio, serving authentic Mexican cuisine, recommended this drool worthy chocolate lava cake with mole sauce decadently drenched inside, with fabulous vanilla ice cream on top. I felt like a queen perched on a throne, ruling over a land of good taste.  

Who says I didn't meet any guys here? This is my new boyfriend. His name is Kevin. He loves science fiction movies from the 1980's. He is also great at his signature David Bowie impression. 

Trying to stay positive in this comfortable, prison wasteland of materialistic indulgence ^^

What kind of beach is Akumal Beach? The sugary sandy kind. The kind with swept up brown algae gathered up in knots and sand gnats hovering in clouds around them. The kind with white tiny specks of shells hidden underneath the first soft layer of sand. The kind with sea turtles poking their heads into your path as you swim out in the middle of the water, if you get there early enough before tourists scare them away. The kind that attracts top notch man bun men the farther you walk away from the high rise hotels. The kind that you can't really surf on, not from what I experienced, but the kind that you can lay on and dissolve your troubles away into the salty air. It's colors are green and blue pastel. It's close to the Tulum city center, about a 20 minute drive. 

Tulum Ruins of the Maya 

To prepare to see the Maya ruins I started reading "The Maya, 9th Edition", to make my third grade self happy. It was about 25 years ago that I was sitting in school, watching a Mayan documentary, dreaming about maybe one day, someday, going to see the ruins in person. A small dream, but a dream nonetheless that I was able to provide to her. You're welcome, little nerdy Megan.

Definitely worth the visit, the ruins are well preserved and you could expect to spend an hour or so walking around and taking photos. I am kind of interested to see what other dreams I can give to this inner child of mine. 

Grand Cenotes

Part of mermaid training involves a lot of swimming, obviously, given the nature of the job. I needed to expose myself to every kind of water experience, not just the calm lapping waters of warm Yucatan beaches. I needed to test myself to see how I'd survive in the dark waters of a sea cave. The cenotes are natural sinkholes from limestone collapsing into a cave, and you can jump right in and swim, snorkel, and sometimes SCUBA. 

I actually did see quite a few bats in the cave, announcing their presence very casually with a fluttering of wings. Quite charming, actually! They're so cute and small up close. The sea turtles were also quite charming. 

Refreshing, relaxing. rejuvenating, these sea caves are something I'll explore more next time I'm in Mexico. The water is clear, cold, and gave me chills when I stared into the depths of the deep waters, the limestone stalagmites leading deeper and deeper under the sea. 

After your dip in the sea cave, if you don't think you're ready for a commitment to becoming a full time mermaid, there's a park built around the Grand Cenotes to sunbath and picnic on to continue life as a land mammal! Other cenotes on my list to check out are the Tortuga Cenotes, Dos Ojos, and the Sacred Cenote which was used as a place of sacrifice back in the ancient times. The latter is due to my affection for scary movies and haunted places.

There's Nothing Wrong with Traveling By Yourself. 

Going somewhere by yourself is liberating, it's uncomfortable, and it's awkward. It's fun, but there's nobody to share it with, and all you have is yourself to rely on. I recommend traveling solo whenever and wherever you can, because it creates a sense of hyper awareness that you'd lose if you were around a safe group of friends to rely on during cultural misunderstandings and challenges. 

Tulum was beautiful, and traveling alone was great for me to get some mental space away from the city for a while. I have traveled alone before, usually to bigger cities in Europe, and it's never been a point of contention. However, on this trip the only question people asked me was this: 

"You're traveling alone? Why? Why are you by yourself? No boyfriend, family, or friends? Huh." 

"Yep, just had some time off and needed sunshine." 

"But you're alone?"

"Yes... is that okay with you? I'm so sorry I forgot to ask permission." 

If you're ever around a woman who is traveling alone, don't ask her why. It's honestly none of your business. You can definitely compliment her choice of cocktail or invite her to a game of volleyball, ask her what she's reading, but to interrogate her personal life choices is never a great idea, nor will it make her want to continue the conversation with you. 

I didn't want to go into the details of my mermaid boot camp training schedule, so I mainly just shrugged and let them assume I was here for some undefined tragic reason. I don't have to explain my existence to a single goddamn person, and neither should anyone who chooses to travel solo.  

Is it still unusual for women to vacation alone? Am I living in a fantasy of my own making where we are able to just prance around the world and not have others bat an eyelash at our innate independence and adventurous spirit? As though we are mere docile house cats venturing outside into the streets where a dangerous alley cat might be lurking. Forgive me for being dichotomous and over generalizing but I can't imagine someone calling another man courageous for going to the beach on his own just to relax. It would be quite rude.

There wasn't anything "brave" about my travel choice, nor was I making any kind of statement about anything political in nature; I was just in need of sunshine and ocean water. But I suddenly felt like I shouldn't have come. 

In fact, when I thought about it, I didn't feel brave at all but guilty, incredibly guilty that I was taking these days off from work to indulge in relaxation and the ocean breezes while back home people were still wearing coats and gloves to go outside in the cold. Didn't I have anything more important to "accomplish"? Was I being frivolous and irresponsible by being here? What did I really do to earn this? I felt like I was doing something wrong, like I wasn't supposed to be so carefree and walk around the beach in a kimono and bikini with a martini in between my middle and ring fingers, glossy ruby red lipstick perched against the glass like I was auditioning for 007's leading lady. 

Therein lies the real issue. Not bravery but guilt that I had the audacity to do something so perfectly indulgent for myself and for nobody else. It was a purely selfish vacation for no reason at all except to fulfill my whims and desires in the current moment. That made me feel wrong. 

It created a flashback in my mind of some reactions people have when I talk about my travels the past year. Sometimes a disapproving tone would creep up in their voice. "Oh, you sure do go on a lot of vacations." 

"Yeah," would come the automatic apology. "But you know, I stay in really cheap hotels." 

Again, so messed up. How integrated in my blood is the American puritan work ethic mythology that I feel like I have to apologize for enjoying my life for its own sake. I really should have been born in Europe. 

Here is my advice for any solo female traveler, especially the single ones. 

"Hey girl, you beautiful treasure you. Don't let anyone steal your sunshine, and don't let anyone tell you where you can go and where you should be in your life. You have your own destiny to take control over and if that bothers anyone else, then they are either jealous of your freedom or really lame and you don't need to associate with them anymore. That includes your inner voice. If your inner voice is being judgmental and being a horrible bitch, you need to tape up her mouth and never let her speak to you again. You work damn hard and you deserve to have that reward be whatever you choose." 

God, can't I just enjoy myself at the beach without neurosis taking over my brain and questioning my entire life? 

I mean, the answer is no, because when you're traveling solo you sometimes forget that the only person directing your trip is you. Your thoughts, your crazy ass thoughts, are swimming around in that crazy ass head of yours. You think about your recent break ups, your career decisions, that conversation with your friend that bothered you but you can't figure out why, whether or not you look fat in this bathing suit, wondering when you'll be able to find someone who you can trust with your heart again, how many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie roll pop, etc. 

Self care and indulgence is incredibly important. Part of that is making sure you're listening to yourself without any other distractions from family, friends, or coworkers. Alone time with just your thoughts and filtering out the world and deciding what you actually, truly want, can sometimes be terrifying but it's rewarding at the end of it, especially if you get an enlightening answer. 

It's not a privilege or a luxury for a woman to take care of her personal fulfillment and happiness, it is her right to do so. She does not owe the world anything, and in fact improves the world around her by making sure her personal needs are met. It seems so obvious but very easy for us to become distracted by other voices around us telling us we need to be needed. 

I am not sure if enlightenment can be achieved as a single moment by laying on a beach for four days, but I'm ready to try again, because I'm that dedicated to self discovery. Next island adventure.... the Azores Islands?