If you thought that my first week in Mexico was spent just drinking margaritas and relaxing on a beach, you’d be…..umm….correct.
Aside from the crowded and sweaty trip to the ruins in Tulum, we mostly just spent our days cycling to the beach and eating amazing tacos. I know, it’s a hard life.
All joking aside, setting off again was a lot harder than I expected it would be. I had become comfortable having a routine again whilst in the US; actually caring about wearing makeup and not making a ceremony out of having a pile of clean laundry.
I was enjoying watching TV shows, cooking, going to the movies and the gym. I had been lured back into thinking that maybe long term travel WAS too exhausting and wasn’t really for me. Maybe I WAS happier just having a home life.
So when I first got to Mexico, as lovely as the surroundings and weather were, it just didn’t feel right. I felt like I did back in Fiji more a than year before – like a fish out of water who isn’t quite sure what the hell just happened to them.
Like everything, getting into the swing of travel takes time.
By the time we arrived via ferry on the sandy streets of Isla Holbox, I was getting my groove back, just like Stella in the ’90s.
Despite speaking little to no Spanish (hey, French and German were quite enough for me to handle at high school, ok?) I felt more confident speaking to the locals, buying food and ordering drinks.
Although the beaches on Holbox aren’t picture perfect (which keeps many of the hoards away), it is the most relaxed and serene place I have possibly been to. With only golf carts for transport, it feels like stepping onto the set of a long-forgotten movie.
It was just what I needed.
There was just one small setback, however, and that was the mosquitoes.
I am like a big plate of chocolate cheesecake to mosquitoes. They love me. Luckily, during the past year, I have been relatively unscathed by the little monsters. But the ones on Isla Holbox are pretty unforgiving. Especially in a hostel room with no air conditioning.
I almost had a relapse into meltdown mode. Right there, on this perfect little island paradise. I really believed that maybe I had had enough. That all I wanted was to sleep in the same bed every night, without being plagued by heat and nasty bugs.
All it took to allay these fears was a few giant mango margaritas.
And a sharp slap to the face. By myself.
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