Another Fake Post

Tulum: And so here we are at the end of this journey – 5000 miles from London, where it all started, but we’ll do the final push from Mexico by plane.

Wandering around the world and all the way to Mexico

We’re finishing on the white-gold sands of Tulum, a stunning wild beach on the Yucatán’s Caribbean coast, where we’ve rented a stick and thatch cabin a few metres from the ocean. At night, the huge supermoon floods through the gaps in our cabin’s stick-sides and the roar and shhh of the waves lull us to sleep in our bed, which swings, suspended by ropes from the roof beam. Our little cluster of cabañas are separated from the big wide beaches by rocks, which protect our own secluded beach from other holidaymakers. We share our space with very few other people even when the weekenders descend.

Local families visit the beach at the weekend

Tulum was, until relatively recently, a Mayan walled-city, the ruins of which stand on a prominent cliff overlooking the beach. With such a stunning location, it would definitely have been my city of choice as a Mayan. The fortified port city traded obsidian along river, road and sea routes (a shrine marks a break in the reef where canoes can pass through) and survived for at least 70 years after the Spanish arrived. It fell because of introduced diseases.

Iguana clambering for flirty head-bobbing

In 2007, the Mexican government bought up privately owned Mayan sites and declared the area a national park. The few hotels and guesthouses located in this new park (ours included) are now the subject of closure orders and there is an ongoing court battle to settle the issue.


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