Ruins With a View

There are two main highlights: a splendid white Caribbean beach lined with low-cost cabanas full of young sun worshippers--and the ruined Mayan temple that gave this place its name, a uniquely beautiful place.
Tulum, the town, is sort of a funky scab grown up along the highway. The only reason it's there is because there is a nice beach nearby with a major cool Mayan ruin, and Highway 307 from Belize to Cancun crosses the highway to Chichen Itza and Merida at this point. There are a few hotels, a bus station, lots of weird stuff to eat, dreary dregs, and a nice spot called The Weary Traveler--see that entry. Surrounding this little crossroads is a mass of cenotes, expensive gated resorts, nature theme parks, and a long, bad road that leads to The Beach. And a beautiful beach it is, lined with cheap, rustic places to sleep.
The reef lies very close in at this point, within reach of a very strong swimmer who knows their way around open ocean and waves breaking over coral. Otherwise there are plenty of people who will take you out for a dive: practically every lodging spot has some approximation of a dive shop.

Quick Tips:

When that road forks, the right route leads along a bunch of hotels, cabins, bungalows, dumps, what have you. Among the dozens, I'd make special mention of La Aldea, maybe 6 Km. down, and Hemingways, about half that far, but it's a matter of personal taste. You could very likely find your idea of beach paradise along here. Lots of people have.
The left fork leads past some private homes and a half dozen more cabana places. This is the "night life" end of the beach, you might say. The cheapest is Don Armandos, but even there you can pay a night for a place that would cost in Honduras, with no electricity or floor. On the other hand, that might be exactly what you are looking for. At the end of this fork of the beach road is the entrance to the ruins of Tulum. No vacancies. (though in better condition than some of those cabanas.)

Best Way To Get Around:

Since there's no airport in Tulum, you probably got here by bus from Guatamala or Merida or Cancun. Or drove in along Hiway 307. Which is, by the way, possibly the best highway in Mexico, drivable at night, even. High sided, nicely wided, doubly divided--and so smooth and new. But God, is it a boring drive--just a tunnel thorugh scrub jungle with no view of anything except entrances to resorts you can't afford or junky strip developments around the towns.
But anyway, once in Tulum you can stay in the village (sounds nicer than strip mall crap, huh?) and walk around, or head out to the beach to live amid raving beauty. It's about .50 one way for a taxi from the bus station to the beach. Or you can rent a bike or moped. Or there's even a weird little train that runs on the road out to the ruins. Right past the Tulum Ruins Subway sandwich shop and Senor Frosty's.

If this place isn''t actually "Paradise", it''s close enough. Costly, though--but Paradise was never described as cheap, was it? Lost, Fallen, and Regained, but never Reduced.
This particular representation of earthly paradise is a collection of little concrete cabins strewn along a white sand beach, tucked in among stands of coconut palms and seagrape. (It''s remarkable how often our image of paradise involves coconut palms--it''s amazing the Biblical version went on about apples.) The accommodations are basic, but in a beachcomberly sort of way--an excellent choice of what amenities you really need when paradise is right outside. There is a huge circular restaurant with painted ceiling (another image of paradise that seems universal--we can assume that in Heaven the ceilings will have frescoes) and a beachfront palapa bar with swings instead of stools. Oddly enough, the swing thing works. Possibly because after you get shitfaced and fall off a swing, there is only soft white coral sand below.
But all this is merely a staging area, the sadly necessary support system that allows you to live a portion of your life on a long white beach back by palms and jungle, fronted with the sea that gave this place the name "Turquoise Coast" (or was that a chamber of commerce? no matter). The sand is fresh-ground coral; cool, soft, and indelibly white. The water is warm and gentle, a palette of blues and greens. The temperature discourages clothing, and people oblige--this is, after all, paradise. There isn''t much more you can say. That''s the beauty of a beach, of paradise in fact: it''s simple and it''s indescribable. Except for on last detail--if you walk north on the beach five minutes and splash around a rocky outcropping, you''ll suddenly look up and see the stones of the Tulum Ruins. What would paradise be without an ancient temple?

Oh, yeah, the bad news: it''s the most expensive of the cabanas on this stretch of beach and the despair of the shaggy eurotramps that flock here: $30 to $50 U.S. a night, depending on accommodations. The good news? You could pay 8 times that in Cancun for a much lesser situation. What price Paradise?

The ruins at Tulum are not awesome. They don't loom over you, don't fade away into jungle, don't convey impressions of glory and sacrifice and curse. But man are they cool.
These are the only Mayan ruins built at the beach: the Summer Cabana of the Gods. The setting couldn't be lovelier. The Mayans were celebrating The Dawn, but they picked a site that also celebrates the peculiar beauty of the Yucatan coast: the temples standing above the sliding tones of blue/green on a crumbling cliff of limestone, the cracks and clefts flowering, revealing trees, protecting white sand beachlets. Yes, here's an architectural and historical site where you can just take off your clothes (or at least your bikini top, apparently) and plunge into the sea, rolling around and kissing somebody like Jeff Bridges and whatshername in that dum Phil Collins movie. Loll on you back and gaze up the crumbling cliffs at the old temple. Awesome's not everything: cute's nice, too.
The site is very well preserved (maybe even a little suspiciously) but then it's the latest of the Mayan monuments, abandoned only 500 years ago. About the time the Spaniards showed up and started killing everybody and destroying pagan temples, probably not coincidentally. It's surrounded by a wall of piled stone, with towers at the corner like an enormous sand castle, and inside is a cluster of small buildings set on a grass lawn. Perfect site for Lawn Parties of the Gods. there are plaques in Spanish, English, and Mayan that tell you what you're looking at, to an extent. What's funny is that it's all supposition: the names of all these ruins were given by the conquistadors, who had absolutely no scientific of cultural curiosity. They stamped out the civilization and generally tore down the temples. Then they called things whatever they thought they looked like. So you have all these places called Observatories, Nun's Quarters, and Watchtowers that only stem from some soldier's memory of a slightly similar structure back home. You can easily rename the structures yourself. The Picnic Tables over there by the Barbecue are obvious, the Dog Houses would still be functional, as would (and, it seems, IS) the Outhouse. You can no longer see the alleged murals in the Mother In Law's Unit, but the Pool Hall and Brothel could be ready to go with a weekend's remodeling.
The main feature of Tulum is "The Castle", with the usual steps up to an area you just know was an alter where people ripped out living hearts and other colorful acts of communion. Life's a beach. And its main feature is a relief sculpture that you can still see most of, which they call "The Descending God" (I prefer the term "The Dog Paddler"). They tell you it's a god coming down from heaven and all, but I look out at the tumble of translucent aquamarine and the slight break over the reef, then I look at this stone dude and I think, "Hell, he's just going for a nice dive." But hey, I'm no archeologist or anything. Though I know a gorgeous site when I see one and would pay the three buck entry fee over and over again just to hang out in this place: the Timeshare Condos of the Gods.

Tulum offers the ruins and a passle of beautiful (if sometimes primitive) beachfront living. But it might almost be more valuable as a sort of hub from which to explore other "Mayan Riviera" spots.

The ruins at Coba are only 47 klicks out of Tulum, and, even without the dropdeap stunning beachfront real estate, are much more impressive. Easily reachable by highway bus or even taxi. You could even hitch, actually.

The limestone bedrock on the area (in fact, of the entire Yucatan) is riddled with sinkholes, which they call cenotes. There are dozens of them near Tulum, many on the highway with "Another Roadside Attraction" signs pimping in business, some hidden out in the jungles, some the site of quiet restaurants with diving available. Very recommended--diving in the still, shaded, green waters of a cenote is very different from sea diving. The very setting has a feel to it. You can easily see why cenotes were revered the Mayans. (And from there it's just a jump to realizing that it would be a good idea to kill virgins and dump their bodies into the water laden down with gold idols--you just sort of get that feeling). These are really cool places, and they are all around. Dos Ojos on the highway to Cancun is pretty fully developed and has a diving/snorkeling program. The Grand Cenote is on the road to Coba. Cenote Manate is on the coast just north of the Ruins. If you become a cenote freak, you will find all sorts of willing guides.

The various "ecoparks" are all within a quick bus ride, or you can visit the Sian Ka'an Biosphere, which actually IS an ecological park.
In face, it's only 63 Km. up to Playa del Carmen, if you wanted to check that out. Tulum makes a pretty good base of operation for people comfortable with beach lodging in the $20-30 range. And Xcaret, a huge "nature" disneyland place with everything from snorkeling on reef or underground river to jetski "ecotours" and a sound and light night spectacular, is right up that way as well.

It's a mere 15 Km. to Xel-Ha, which is more my idea of a good time. This is an incredible place, where spring water bubbles out through undeground caves and tunnels, mingling with the ocean in a big estuary. This might be the ultimate snorkeling anywhere. Xel-Ha has become an "Eco Park" lately, sort of the king of them, with maybe Xcaret as a rival. For more comment on that, see my entry on that subject.
You can also get about any kind of diving tour (sea or cenote) you can think of or check out the Casa de Cultura. Ask around, especially in the Weary Traveler in town. You can laze your brains out on the beach here, but it's also right in the middle of some world-class interesting stuff.

It's easy for backpackers to get their feelings hurt in a place like Cancun or the "Mayan Riviera". And I don't mean backpackers in the "Outside Magazine" sense here: I mean bookbaggers, hippies, eurotrash, reggaeroamers--people who travel light and sleep cheap. You could feel a little slighted in an area that is turning itself out for rich folks. And I don't mean "rich" like Forbes magazine does: I mean upper middle class working drones who can afford to pay a thousand bucks for a ticket to go somewhere and spend a thousand bucks a day enjoying themselves. The beaches are chopped up into preserves for those people, access is denied those in need of a haircut or shave (or having idiotic tattoos peeled off), the wonders of nature have been turned into theme parks that charge a daily admission fee about equivalent to what you could live on for a week in Guatemala or Thailand. The phone books don't even list the hotels you're looking for. You could start feeling left out.

Imagine, then, your feelings at getting off the bus at Tulum and looking across the street to see a sign that says "The Weary Traveler: Backpacker Info Center". Now that's more like it.

It's hard to describe exactly what this place is. But a good start would be to say that it is air-conditioned. That's about as much atmosphere as the bus-weary tropical traveler needs for the first five minutes. As we say in my country: "Whew!"
At which point you might want a fruit smoothie or iced coffee, which are also available. A little more air-conditioning, hanging loose in one of the hammock chairs, and you might even go for an espresso or cappuccino.
With that out of the way, you notice that they have BOOKS! In ENGLISH! And other languages, even. Sale of swap. Real books. Yow.
They sell discount phone cards and allow you to make phone calls without charging you just to call. Send or receive faxes. They have a very fast internet connection (you can contact igougo and read up on Tulum! oops, wait a minute...you already are doing that, aren't you?) and don't even charge for use of less than five minutes.
The rent bicycles. But mostly they provide information. Where is the nearest bank, the cheapest room, the best Italian food, the diving, the shopping? What is the deal in Guatemala or Belize or further into Mexico? They tell you. For free. God knows how they make any money.
The Weary Traveler is run by backpackers, and they are a very sweet bunch of folks. You feel better just sitting there. They'll even give you a cool map of Tulum and let you use a bathroom that actually still has the seat on the toilet.

They're on Hiway 307, right across from the bus station, next door to Hotel Maya. Call 52-987-12-461. Email at travelin@everycontinent.com and even a website.

It used to be a public park of sorts, but that is a thing of the past in this area. The National Parks have been privatized and all of the river mouths and truly beautiful places along this coast have been developed into "Eco Parks". Theme parks of a sort. A word on all that:
First of all, "Ecology" has become the word to conjure with on this coast, like "organic" was in the seventies. (Just as adding brown sugar to soda pop made it "natural", here you strip mine a mountain for silver, but if you make it into dolphins, it's "ecological": Cancun recently held an "ecological art exhibit" in which sculptures were sunken in the bay, requiring SCUBA equipment or their nifty glass submarine to see them.) So it's a fairly meaningless term in the local context--although sufficient to suggest that what you will see was created naturally and not just poured out of cement truck, although even that line gets blurred at times. There is even a car rental company that advertises itself as "The Ecological Company". Okay, if you accept automobiles as ecological, and private car rentals instead of collective transport as being in the service of the planet, you will not be upset to find that your "Eco Park" features self-guided jungle tours on jet skis or motorcycles.
The privatization is another notable factor. "Privatization" was a big buzzword in the last administration. It was basically a scam, one aspect of the PRI party's raping of the country. You take a highway or airport built with tax dollars (or refinery nationalized from Standard Oil) and sell it off to private business--the government saves expense, everybody in sight skims a ton of graft, somebody gets their very own tollway or airport or park to run for profit. Perfect application of modern "neoliberal" eco-political principles by one of the world's perfect political machines.
The thing is, is it so bad a way to handle parks? The Mexican government can't really afford to run something like Xel-Ha the way the U.S. government runs, say, Yosemite. And even there, we have seen a slow increase in user fees and private concessions. Mexican National Parks have been generally rather tacky, poorly provided, and inadequately protected. So you turn the thing over to a local version of Disney and what do you get? Well, you get this beautiful, landscaped place with every possible facility and scientists taking care of stuff. Nice restaurants, clean bathrooms. You also get to pay $10-40 dollars to get in. With additional fees for special stuff like eco-blasting through jungle on motos. Or $35-80 US to swim and do tricks with dolphins.
So what you end up with is: the government saves money, the park is better kept, tourists pay about what they'd expect (and much less than Sea World or Six Flags--for now), and a lot of local people make a decent living. The only real losers are the local people who can't afford to go. And the thing is, most of the local people never had all that much yen to go snorkeling in underground rivers. But still, it's kind of a gyp for them. They don't mind though--they prefer having money come into the area. So. EcoParks, scam or public service? It's your call.

One thing's for sure, these are some way beautiful parks.

Xel-Ha, the first big privatization, is very close to Tulum and absolutely worth a visit for anybody who ever liked what they saw though a diving mask. An incredible place that has been totally exploited without being totally ruined. About $19 admission. Check out their website. The same folks took over the National Park at Garrafon, on Isla Mujeres, which is a good place to visit for a decent price, around $10 US for a day.
Xcaret is the best known of the parks, and the most flamboyant. Anything I've said here goes double for Xcaret. Mayan wonderland, jungle safari, undersea wonderment, dance shows, you name it. $39 US gets you in, but it'll cost a lot more before you get out. Hell, be REALLY ecological, skip the tour and just check out the website.
Tres Rios is similar, and has more natural gifts. Three rivers come into the sea there, and it's full of cenotes and underground swims. They have jet ski tours, horseback riding, trained manatees doing soft shoe in top hat and tails.
There are lots of other such parks, such as Dolphin Discovery (Swim with dolphins! Live with dolphins! Get kinky with dolphins!) , Yalku (a smaller, out of the way non-commercial lagoon), Aktun Chen (caves), and they will be flogged on you everywhere. I'd say, try Xel-Ha and see what you think. Then try more if you have the taste and budget for it. Just don't tell me how freakin' ecological it all is. These parks probably appeal most either to people who can con themselves into thinking it's ecotourism or a wild adventure, or to those who don't give a damn and just want to do something bitchin' to kill a day. Or maybe to somebody like yourself, who can see what it is, and enjoy it for that.