Playa del Carmen

On Monday it was time to leave Cancún early towards Playa del Carmen on a 1-hour colectivo ride, a 9-seater van converted to carry 16 people and which has, where the handbrake would be, a little lever to close the passenger-side door.

When I got to the bus terminal, I couldn't resist a bucket of fruit, with yoghurt, dried fruit and drizzled with honey, a good tonic for the walk to the hostel. Once at the hostel I dropped my bag and began my adventure around Playa del Carmen.

I took a walk along 5th Avenue, the street where everything happens, souvenir shops, restaurants, bars, minimarkets.

After passing through the busy area, I decided to keep walking along 5th Avenue and stroll through an area where some locals live, with lots of unfinished houses, lots of graffiti on the walls and even houses with barbed wire. I even ran into a group sitting in the street listening to some Latin rap... Anyway, a dodgy area, so I didn't linger there much and carried on my way.

My destination was to reach Playa 88, Playa Paraíso and Punta Esmeralda, a beach with very few people, with vegetation facing the sea but without the hotels that almost go into the beach in the centre. The beach, with hardly anyone on it, had all the amenities you need and even free palapas (sun loungers).

I walked back to Playa del Carmen along the beach, but there were 3 spots where I had to get into the water to get past, because the hotels are so close to the water and some are already damaged by it, since one of these days the sea will come and take back the space they want to take from it. But I got there, and the bustle at Playa del Carmen, in the central area, was completely different: the beach was full and there were lots of street vendors selling a bit of everything.

I stopped one vendor to eat some oysters with lime and some spicy local sauces. The vendor took longer to prepare them than I did to eat them, and by the end my lips were burning and I had to go and dip them in the sea.

On the beach there were also local singers whom the Mexicans on the beach paid to play their favourite songs.

In the square in front of the sea there was a tower that some performers climbed and from which, tied to a rope, they launched themselves and, as the rope unwound, they gradually reached the ground safe and sound. I also saw other performers, but these were dancing with their feet firmly on the ground, painted black and acting out Maya rituals.

Then I went back to the hostel, by now at night and after a shower I went up to the rooftop, where a bachata class was going on, and then I went to 5th Avenue, where everything happens.

At night the bars, although on a smaller scale, went for the same style as Cancún. Bars open to the street, with dancers and music as loud as possible, it was almost impossible to stay there for long without ending up with hearing problems.