Apparently, I was not the only one who found Cartagena (or rather its image) irresistible, for as it turned out this colonial, colorful, beautifully preserved walled city and fortress with centuries-long history and stunning architecture is one of the top travel destinations in 2018. In fact, it claimed the prestigious second place in the CNN survey. Canada went all the way and named the city number one of 2018 trending destination. As did I. Ever since I saw that photo I could not think of anything else. Cartagena (and subsequently Colombia) was the place I had to visit and I had to do it right away. 

After years and years of topping the lists of most dangerous countries in the world, Colombia has made a 180-degree turn around and is today doing whatever it can to restore the damaged reputation by dismantling the drug cartels, employing more policemen,  investing in tourist police and making the safety of all but specifically visitors its priority. Whatever they do they must be doing it right for the country not only lost its “prime’ place on the list of most dangerous but is today topping the lists of hottest travel destinations in the world with Cartagena being number one and Medellin being the hottest retirement destination. Very impressive. (Let us only hope the upcoming election will not interfere with the current state of affairs. There is a concern Colombia will become another Venezuela if the Petro guy wins.) 

It took me longer than planned to get there as my journey went through both Bogota and Medellin, which I originally had no intention to visit, but eventually, the day had come. I finally arrived in the Magic City and my excitement and anticipation couldn’t be any higher.

As an icing on the cake, (especially for me who is searching for a beach paradise) Cartagena is a beach town facing the Caribbean Sea and the sunset. Why not kill two birds with one stone then? Why not indeed. To embrace the two I parked myself right on the beach at Bocagrande only a stone’s throw away from the Walled City. Paradise on Earth? 

First thing in the morning I grabbed my camera, a bottle of water and off I went to the Walled City in search of the colorful architectural masterpieces – the carrot that made me drop everything for Cartagena in the first place. 

Tip: A walk from (almost) the end of Bocagrande to the Walled City takes about 40 minutes. It is pretty hot and humid so you may like to take a taxi or a bus instead. Taxi costs approx 2.5 USD and bus 35 cents. (June 2018)

The Walled City

Cafe del Mar draws crowds of tourists every sunset. Opens at 5 p.m.

All visitors to Cartagena come for one reason and one reason only -The Walled City. It is a historic part of town, The Old Town, founded in the 15th century. As the name suggests, the city was built in between the wall which (btw) is 11 kilometers long and partially some 50 meters wide. Locals and visitors come to the wall every night to watch the sunset. The thick wall is full of “windows” (after all it is a fortress), offering not only a bench to sit but also shelter from the elements.  Long before the sunset, these cozy hideaways in the wall are quickly filled up with local couples in hope of a romantic picnic and some quality time with the loved one. Visitors, on the other hand, prefer sitting in cafes on the top of the wall, like Cafe del Mar.

It goes without saying, the Walled City is where all the action is. As a vast majority of visitors “stay and play” there it is also very touristy which could be negative for some, or positive for others as the area is well lit and patrolled by the police making it the safest part of town. It is also the most expensive part of town full of fancy coffee shops, restaurants, high-end boutiques, boutique hotels, luxurious Airbnbs, overpriced hostels and… (surprise, surprise) annoying street vendors. If you’re in town for a couple of days only and not on a shoestring budget this is the place to stay.  

Tip: the best time to visit is Sunday. Most Colombian towns, including Cartagena and even Bogota, are almost deserted on Sundays as most people don’t work on that holy day, thus even many street vendors stay at home thereby making city strolls and explorations so much more enjoyable.

Slideshow with more images all the way down

Getsemani

Even thought Getsemani is (kind of) within the city walls it is in fact outside THE wall. Not by much but outside nonetheless. The neighborhood is as old as the historic district but is not refurbished. At least not yet. People say Getsemani is what the Walled City used to be. This makes Getsemani a genuine historic district. As opposed to the Walled City where only tourists can afford to stay many locals actually live in Getsemani. This offers the visitors a unique opportunity of a glimpse into Cartagena’s everyday life that every evening is displayed in front of their eyes when the locals bring tables, chairs, board games, food & drink into the streets and relax while enjoying the evening with family and friends.

Getsemani is probably the most interesting part of town, a very vibrant neighborhood with the edgy vibe and genuine local street culture. Many restaurants, bars, and best salsa nightclubs are located here. It is, of course, much cheaper than the Walled City, thus popular with backpackers. Most of the hostels are located right here.

The place is pretty safe, however, some people under the influence sitting/lying “here and there” can feel somewhat intimidating. Not that they are capable of doing anything, but why take a chance. So don’t walk alone after dark.

El Centro

El Centro is a small area between Getsemani and the Walled City. Here you can find plenty of small shops selling practically everything including electronics, souvenirs and plenty of street food. If you’re looking for a bargain or specific service (watch battery replacement or new recharger) El Centro is the place.  

Tip: there is a small park right in the middle of town inhabited by small monkeys. On the way from the Walled City to Getsemani or the other way around take a walk through the park and say hi to the monkeys.

Slideshow with more images all the way down

Bocagrande

Bocagrande skyline as seen from the Walled City

Cartagena seems to have it all, lovely colonial walled city attracting tourists from all over the world and the sandy beaches. Matchmade in heaven?

Bocagrande, a three kilometers long and about 500 meters wide at its widest spot peninsula, is marketed as a luxurious neighborhood on a sandy beach with luxurious hotels, condominiums, malls, restaurants, and supermarkets. The sea in front and the bay in the back make sure all hotel rooms and apartments not only have lovely views but are also very breezy which is hugely appreciated in hot and humid climate. Sounds good, doesn’t it?

Well, let me tell you right away. People do not come to Cartagena for the beach. Even though the neighborhood as a whole isn’t too bad the beach itself is awful. Dirty black sand, dodgy looking scam practicing bars/restaurants filled predominantly with locals and vacationing Colombians, an endless stream of aggressive vendors that make your blood boil, persistent massage terrorists that constantly hassle you, con artists that keep you on your toes. Stress, stress, stress. No chance for the quality relaxation or any relaxation for that matter. Not even for 10 seconds. (For real, this is not an exaggeration. Read reviews on Tripadvisor). At night the hassling touts are replaced by hassling prostitutes and drug dealers. It just never ends. This must be the worst beach I have ever been to.

Bocagrande as seen from La Manga

The sea is supposed to be clean, however, it is difficult to tell when the bottom is black and invisible. Clean or not, it doesn’t look very inviting.  I’ve spent three long months in Cartagena but went into the sea only once. It was 30 seconds long in-and-out procedure. Yet I love beaches and warm sea. But not the one in Bocagrande. 

What surprises me the most is that there are tourists paying money to stay in fancy hotels along the beach, there are none on the beach though. I am guessing they are there exclusively for the view and the breeze.

La Boquilla 

La Boquilla is the second beach in Cartagena, on the other side of town not too far from the airport. It is marketed as (upcoming) luxurious (mostly) residential area on the beautiful beach. Hmm… the beach is much much larger than the one in Bocagrande, however, it is definitely not much better. Even though the sand looks less dirty it is still dirty and also very compact making the beach look more like a dirt road than a beautiful soft sandy beach.

Slideshow with more images all the way down

La Manga

La Manga is an upscale residential neighborhood not more than a 20-minute walk from the Walled City. The upscale of La Manga is not really comparable with the upscale of Western neighborhoods but it is as good as it gets in Colombia. I stayed in a lovely colonial house for 1, 5 months and really enjoyed it. 

It is a quiet and secure small island with many beautiful colonial houses. There are also few condominiums. If you are in Cartagena for a longer haul La Manga is the place to stay especially if you like to live in a house. Bocagrande could be another alternative if you prefer to stay in a breezy apartment. 

Summa Summarum

Being number one tourist world destination of 2018 as well as being the most visited city and number one tourist attraction in the country comes with a price tag. Or two. Both visitors and locals pay today for that privilege. 

Cartagena has not only become the most expensive city in Colombia which almost emptied the Walled City from its inhabitants but due to the crowds visiting the city, both regular tourists and the day trippers arriving on ships, it is also invaded by pushy touts who make the life of visitors rather difficult. To say the least.

Police daily radio appeal to let the visitors be, have no effect at all. The ‘business’ goes as usual. Cartagena is still a very poor country and the locals take every opportunity they get to make extra money. 

Cartagena is hot and humid. Very hot and very humid. After long steamy hours exploring the Walled City, there is nothing more satisfying (at least for me) than an evening stroll on the beach, a dip in the sea, a well-chilled drink, a bite to eat, breathtaking sunset.

Dream on.

Unfortunately, the beach is practically inaccessible to visitors. What a shame.  

All that glitters is not gold

Don’t get me wrong. Cartagena or rather the Walled City is lovely and undoubtedly worth a visit but is it really all that? Not sure. Part of the hype (imho) is related to the fact that Cartagena is a relatively new destination.  

I am very glad I came. I truly am. But the truth of the matter is that sometimes picturesque pictures are more picturesque than reality and that 16 million colors are perceived uniquely by each individual.  Images tend to be more saturated than reality. (Even my Bocagrande images don’t mirror the reality). 

There is a small expat community in Cartagena. They are though not as active as expats in Medellin. I cannot see myself living in Cartagena. Too hot, too humid, the worst beach in the world. But above all the constant harassment by touts and scammers do not qualify the city as a retirement paradise destination. Far from it. So, I’ll keep looking. 

p.s. I just happened to come across yet another picture that keeps my head spinning – Rainbow Mountains in Peru. 

The Walled City of Cartagena – slideshow

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The towns are so much associated with seasons they represent they are nicknamed after them. Cali, for example, is the town of never-ending summer where the temperatures differ during the year as much/little as one degree. Bogota must be the town of ever-lasting autumn with daily rains, low temperatures, and overall miserable existence. People refer to weather in Bogota as “shitty”. Medellin, on the other hand, is the town of eternal spring. Never cold, never too hot nor too humid. Climate paradise for those who come from less temperate latitudes, like North America or Europe. And they come, and come, and come. In thousands. 

Medellin story is currently one of the most successful stories in making.  In a matter of only a few years, it has transitioned from the Escobar stronghold to industrial stronghold, from Medellín Cartel city to most innovative city of the year, from the most dangerous city in the world to the best place to retire in 2017, from the “murder and kidnapping capital of the world” to expat paradise. Today Medellin is premiere retirement heaven attracting retirees from all over the world. 

And it isn’t only Medellin that is super hot today. The whole of Colombia is undergoing the renaissance. The country is off the list of most dangerous countries in the world. In fact, it has been ranked by The New York Times as the second, out of 52, destination to visit in 2018. What a transformation What an accomplishment. 

Why Medellin?

Expats list many benefits of living in Medellin, like affordable prices, high standard of accommodation, security, direct flights to the US, super modern metro but the biggest of them all is… climate. Expats come to Medellin primarily for its climate. 

Is the climate really so great?

Hmmm. Not really, not if you ask me. But I only stayed 10 days. Your mileage may vary though. It was neither hot nor cold, not even humid. Just like the expats love it. Why didn’t I? The temperature was very comfortable. Warm spring. Warm but rainy spring which I didn’t mind all that much, however; it was also almost always very gray which I didn’t like one bit. Not sure if the sky was gray because of the surrounding mountains or because of the pollution which is pretty bad. Whatever the reason,  the sun was practically invisible hiding behind the clouds. And, if it wasn’t raining it looked like it would rain any minute. 

Medellin, the city

Medellin is the second-largest city in Colombia with a population of 2.5 million inhabitants, almost four in the metropolitan area. Generally, the town is safe. As anywhere else, there are pockets that are less safe (or even dangerous no-go zones), as well as there are pockets that are very safe, even after dark – like El Poblado.

Sadly, I didn’t give Medellin much of a chance. After my bad experience in Bogota, I had no desire to do Escobar tour, exploring El Centro or any other area for that matter and stayed in El Poblado during the entire time. In addition, my visit coincided with Easter which emptied the town from all its buzz. The town (El Poblado) was almost deserted.

El Poblado is home to most of the expats living in Medellin. Subsequently, it is also the priciest section of town. Even so, it is still very affordable. You can find an all-inclusive room for 300 USD a month, small apartment for the double plus utilities. Most of the buildings are high raised towers overlooking the mountains built according to the Western standard with lovely views and swimming pools. The neighborhood is walkable full of grocery stores, restaurants, bars, and clubs.

So why not? 

There is only one answer. I couldn’t find any beach in Medellin, not that I was expecting one in the mountainous landscape. This is it. My dream destination is a beach community. Like Cartagena? I am just about to find out. I am finally on my way to Cartagena, the magic city that “lured” me to Colombia in the first place. Fingers crossed.  

p.s. Medellin is a really great place. So, if you don’t care much for the beaches you may like to give it a chance.

Medellin in Pictures – slideshow

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If there is anything locals and visitors to a ten million (plus) Colombian capital city,  Bogota, can always count on; it is: 

1. The sun only shines in Bogota in the mornings – before 1 p.m.
2. Each Sunday morning and early afternoon Ciclovía takes place in the city – a reclaim the streets type of event attracting up to 2 million bikers, runners, and skaters. (The event is also organized during public holidays and in other cities.) 

The Sunday of March 18th wasn’t any different from other Sundays. The sun was shining (it was only 12 p.m.), Cyclovia was underway and the city center was filled with attendees, their supporters, tourists and plenty of “regular’ people. Armed police were everywhere, both city police and tourist police, keeping an eye on the event and the city at large.

After some two hours of shooting the newly restored Centro Historico, I found myself at the Bolivar Square – the main square of Bogotá.

The square was jam-packed with people, both tourists and locals alike, and millions of pigeons. The kids were playing and passers-by were feeding the pigeons. The herd of bikers was cycling on a bike path leading to/from the square almost overrunning tourists unaware of the event. There were so many of them that the whole procession looked like a pilgrimage or an army of ants working the path to/from their colony.  They were all going to/from one direction. Thinking there might be an interesting event going on around the corner I followed the bikers.  And yes (as I found out later), during Ciclovía, there are many sporting events like yoga organized on numerous plazas and in parks across the city.

I couldn’t have walked more than a block, one and a half at the most and was just about to turn back when I felt as if someone walking behind me ‘tapped’ my shoulder. Not very hard but it was a tap/hit, nonetheless. Instantly and without any confirmatory visuals, I KNEW exactly what it was. All my senses went on the highest alert and I remember thinking; “Oh no, this is not happening, it can’t be. No way”. But it was.. this is exactly what was happening…

On a bright sunny day, at noon, in the middle of the city full of people, in the presence of an army of policemen – I was about to get mugged.

Bogotá was not on my itinerary at all. As a rule, I avoid large capital cities of Central and South America. The larger the city the more poverty and consequently the more problems (read danger), especially for a female solo traveler. In fact, not only Bogota but also Colombia was not on my itinerary either… until one day. The day I happened to see a photograph of Cartagena. From then on Cartagena had become my travel destination number one. Cartagena was all I could think of. I had to see Cartagena. Period. So I went. Via Bogota, as direct flights to Cartagena were crazily expensive.

And there I was, in Bogota, I never wanted to visit, right in the city center, maybe 100 meters from Bolivar Plaza, amongst thousands of people and police on every single corner yelling for help in broad daylight.

There were two of them. They must have been following me. They saw me taking pictures and putting the camera into a shoulder bag made of cloth that was ‘nonchalantly’ hanging on my right shoulder. An easy target. Silly woman “giving papaya” (local slang for an easy target). Just grab a bag and run – they must have thought.

They grabbed the bag (the tap on the shoulder); the bag tore and its content fell out. But not the camera. It stayed put where it should. On a sling across my body.  This is how I always carry my camera in less friendly countries – on a sling across my body. The bag is only a ‘camouflage’, a hiding pouch so that I don’t need to have it on full display when I am not shooting.

This must have put them off guard. The easy target (snatch and run) wasn’t so easy after all. 

All victim accounts I read say the same thing: “I had no idea what hit me. I didn’t see it coming. I didn’t even have the time to blink my eye, everything went so quick.” This was not my experience. On the contrary. Ever since the very first contact (shoulder tap/hit), all my senses went on full alert. and I knew exactly what was happening; I knew exactly what I was doing, and I was even having discussions with myself as to how to proceed. It is amazing how many different thoughts a human mind can process during “a blink of the eye”. 

Once the thieves understood what had happened they tried to pull the strap off my body. My strategy was to hold on to the sling and yell for help. Buy time. After all, there were so many people around,  someone must hear/see and come to the rescue. The seconds were ticking but none came. The thieves (undoubtedly) picked the best timing possible. When nobody was around.

The only advice ever given to victims in my situation is: 

1. Don’t surprise the thieves as they may become unpredictable (I have already done that – the sling) 
2.  Let “it” go. They may have a gun, or worse. It isn’t worth it. 

It was worth to me. More than you can imagine. Had I only had another second or two... Weighing all the pros and cons,… I had “upper hand”, I sat on the ground, it is easier to pull from below sitting than from above standing, just give me one more second… but what about that guy behind me, I couldn’t see him, he was also pulling the sling. I wasn’t scared at all. I’ll hold on for as long as it takes. A plan. I thought. Simultaneously, ‘other voices’ were talking to me, trying to convince me to be ‘smart’ and follow the ‘good advice’.

Unwillingly but consciously I began to let go – slowly, very slowly, inch by inch, shopping for time to the very end, while debating with myself whether it was the right thing to do.

They run off. With my camera. Watching them disappear into a narrow alley I also seemed to have noticed, from the corner of my eye, a biker chasing after them. Strangely, this only made me angry. “Now? It is too late now. You should have been here 1 second ago”. But, perhaps it was only my imagination playing tricks on me. I couldn’t be sure. 

The strangest thing of all… while warching them disappear with my camera I didn’t feel that killing emptiness and razor sharp pain one feels when losing beloved… anything really… but felt more like an observer watching a movie. Even though I was abolutly sure that was the end of the story… I was an extra in a movie. 

Still stranger, before leaving my hotel I took more precautions than ever. As if my gut feeling was trying to warn me. Left my cell and everything else I didn’t need. I even wanted to switch the lens to one that was less visible and cheaper (which never happened before). Unfortunately, I didn’t bring the kit lens with me (I am trying to travel ‘light’) and had only 50 mm prime as a backup – not so great for the cityscape shots.

All these extra preaucations as if I felt something was about to happen. All I had with me was maybe 10 USD in local currency, umbrella and a bottle of water. And a camera. 

So now WHAT? To put insult into the injury, I had my camera cleaned in Cancun only two days before and two weeks prior had the faulting zoom in my lens repaired. Collecting my camera from the repairman (yet another gut feeling) I was thinking… If anything is to happen… now is the time.  And so it was. Indeed.

Two days later, I let it all go. Perhaps I shouldn’t have. Perhaps I shouldn’t have listened to that other voice. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so smart. Too late now.

Shamed by my own stupidity (my first mugging) with a tail between my legs I began picking up contents of my bag (umbrella, water bottle) that was scattered on the ground and was just about to head back to my hotel to not-sure-what-to-do when a young female biker approached me. 

She thought I should report the incident to the police which ironically was only 50 meters away. Police? She must be joking. What can they do? Do they even care? The thieves are far away and the camera is sold a long time ago. But not having anything better to do and feeling like a fool I flowed her. The policeman directed us to a police booth located further down the square.  Once again, I hesitated… what a waste of time. But then again I thought – what’s the alternative? Sitting alone in my hotel room sulking about the lost camera? I went. 

After the initial confusion (we communicated through Google translator) I understood they caught someone. Aha? What that someone had to do with me? I couldn’t see any connection. They didn’t know anything about the camera though. Once I told them they began to interrogate the guy. After only a few seconds not only the connection was established but he also confessed to stealing my camera (???!!!). However, he didn’t have it, nor did he know where it was. He gave it to the other guy, he said. Of course, he didn’t know who the other guy was. 

Why did they catch him and on what grounds did they arrest him I will never know. But maybe I shouldn’t be asking.  It appears, however, that the biker I thought I saw from the corner of my eye was real and it was him who must have caught the thief. (Imagine if I only held on to the sling for two more seconds.)

I spend at least an hour and a half (including a ride in a police car to my hotel to get the passport) in that tiny police booth. Some five, six policemen on duty were the nicest and friendliest people imaginable offering me water and chocolate all the time and generally making sure I was okay. At one point they showed me a knife and asked if I was ever threatened with one. I am not sure if it was just a knife they showed me or the knife they found on the thief. They also told me I have ventured into a no-go zone. A no-go zone right next to Bolivar Plaza? Hmmm, I remembered someone trying to warn me just when I was about to enter the area but I didn’t understand. I don’t speak Spanish. 

Next stop was a real police station.  For me and the thief. I had to make a statement and he was to be booked. 30-40 minute ride in two separate cars. Upon arrival, I was greeted by Patrullero Jeison Florez. 

Patrullero Jeison Florez

Patrullero Jeison Florez with Tourist Police in Bogota spoke English and didn’t leave my side during the four-hour stay at the station. Not that I have any experience with the police, Colombian or otherwise, but he must be the nicest and gentlest and most carrying policeman in the world. He desperately wanted me to like Colombia and to understand that majority of Colombians are just like him. Generous, friendly, giving and carrying. 

At one point he went to the thief to speak with him. The thief stuck to his story. He didn’t know where the camera was nor who the other guy was. Patrullero Jeison gave it a bit of time and tried again. After the second attempt when the thief understood it may cost him two extra years in jail, he suggested calling his sister. She may know who the other guy was, he said. And she did. Not only did she know the other thief she also found him, succeeded to recover the camera and was now on the way to the station to return it in the belief that once she has done so her thief brother would be set free. 

No. No Way. I don’t believe you. Impossible. Things like that just do not happen, not in Colombia, not anywhere in the world, I said to Jeison. Yes, it’s true – he replied. I didn’t want to get my hopes up and refused to believe him.

But it was. A few minutes later the sister came with my camera. And the sling. Intact. 

I left a statement. Even recorded a short video thanking Colombian Police for their efforts and amazing job in recovering my camera. Don’t remember exactly what I said but something about the impossible becoming possible. We hugged after that, said our goodbyes, and someone drove me back to the hotel. I am to contact Jeison right away should I need anything. Friends for life? Everybody was happy.

Everybody but the thief. He is in jail awaiting trial. He will get two years. Hadn’t the sister returned the camera he would get four. Don’t know if they ever caught the other thief. 

How Am I?

Glad you asked. To tell the truth – I don’t really know. Not yet. I am pretty much alright teasing myself “well done, you survived Bogota exactly two hours“, or, maybe I am in denial of some sort but my primal instincts are back on the radar (so do not come near me or touch me unexpectedly); I no longer take the camera wherever I go; neither do I shoot spontaneously but choose my objects/subjects with more care; not that I did it before but today I display the camera even less. My camera feels kind of dirty – not as pure anymore. My love for photography got bruised.

11 days have passed and I still haven’t mentioned the story to anybody. 

From the very beginning to the very end I was, without really knowing or expecting it, (unconsciously) waiting for a happy ending… though I knew there cannot be one. Things like that simply never happen. And definitely not in Colombia, the (former) number one most dangerous country in the world where no one cares about petty theft like that. (I hear additional funds were given to the police, and hundreds of extra policemen were put on the streets of Bogota to fight the crime.  The efforts have begun to give results.)

There is one thing I am absolutely sure about. The story wouldn’t (couldn’t) have a happy ending hadn’t I followed the bike lady to the police as I already had said goodbye to the camera the moment I let go of the sling. I must remember…

Never give up…  It ain’t over until it’s over. 

The (almost lost) Images of Centro Historico – slideshow

The post It ain’t over till it’s over – Bogota appeared first on One way ticket to Paradise.

Of course, I couldn’t leave Mexico or even Cancun without visiting Isla Mujeres first – the very island I was advised to abandon Cancun for the minute I arrived. So, as soon as I came back from Havana I joined hundreds (maybe thousands) of other daytrippers and took a 13-kilometer long ferry ride to the island.

Half an hour later (plus at least half an hour of queuing to board the ferry) I found myself in a “promised land” with a great potential of being IT.

And? Was it? Is it?

As much as I enjoyed my day on the island and as much as I liked the island itself I am not so sure the island qualifies as my dream retirement paradise. At least, I don’t think so. The island is ideal, however, for a shorter vacation. Especially if you are younger (but it is not necessary) and like to party Isla Mujeres is definitely your place. 

Why not?

Because I am dreaming of pristine, miles long white sand beaches and crystal clear warm waters. Isla Mujeres has neither. The largest beach, Playa Norte, only five minutes away from the ferry is not large enough to even host hotel guests and daytrippers. There are so many people, packed as sardines, that you need to cruise between the sunbeds just to get from A to B getting bruised in the process.  Other beaches, “hidden” between private residences, are teeny tiny stretches of sand that do not take more than a few minutes to walk… if you take your time and walk slowly. I imagine this is where the expats live. 

I loved the little town (next to Playa Norte) full of small cozy restaurants and I loved the vibe. Isla Mujeres is definitely a place where I’d love to spend my vacation. A week. Maybe two. But to retire? Not so sure. It isn’t a “yes” but it isn’t a “no” either even though the island isn’t exactly what I am looking for. The potential is still there. It depends (to an extent) on who occupies those residences where the other beaches are hiding. For there are no beaches in the world worth more than the great company of like-minded “occupants”.

Puerto Morales

While I am “at it” I’d also like to mention another well know place I visited – Puerto Morales. It is a small port/beach town, a fishing village really, on Riviera Maya between Cancun and Playa del Carmen. 

Puerto Morales is best known for its National Reef Park with many offshore dive sites, the turtles that breed on the local beaches, freshwater sinkholes and a tilted lighthouse that has now become the town’s trademark. The lighthouse was destroyed by Hurricane Beulah in 1967 but then never knocked down. Instead, a new one was built few meters away. 

The town itself is small and very laid back. Two “major” streets and maybe a 15-minute walk from one end to the other. The bikes are preferred means of transportation. In addition to a couple of boutique hotels, condominiums, tourist shops, restaurants there are quite a few gated communities nearby attracting Western expats and locals alike. More gated communities are being built = the town is expanding.

Anything for me? Puerto Morales has definitely some possibilities. I find it a bit too small though for my very personal taste.  If I had to choose I’d rather stay at Playa del Carmen which has so much more to offer.  

But then. of course, there is Tulum – which I still haven’t visited

Isla Mujeres – slideshow

The post Isla Mujeres and Puerto Morales appeared first on One way ticket to Paradise.

Shopping in Havana

I was aware of about food shortages and shopping difficulties before I came to Cuba and was, in fact, advised to bring at least a couple of boxes of breakfast cereal and dry soups as well as whatever clothes I no longer wanted, especially brands, to sell or exchange for accommodation. I didn’t bring either. Not sure how cereal would help me, unless I ate it dry, as there is no yogurt in Havana. The soups wouldn’t be of much use either as I had no way of “bringing them to boil and simmer for a few minutes”. The clothes? Well, I toyed with the idea – need to downsize my luggage – however, I am not that “business oriented” and didn’t want to carry more than I had to should I fail as a businesswoman. (I left all my luggage in Mexico and came to Cuba only with a backpack).

Food Challenge

Long lines for to get a hamburger.

Blandly put, there is hardly any food to buy in Cuba. Not if you are a tourist and, not the one you’d like to eat. Even if you were lucky enough (or queued long enough) to get something eatable you couldn’t cook it anyhow as hotels and Airbnb:s don’t allow kitchen access. After all, the Airbnb hosts make money off the lack-of-food situation. 5 USD for breakfast and about 10 for dinner. Typically, they buy the food from next (or next next) door neighbors who run tiny shops from home. I have no idea where the shop owners get the food from. Perhaps from the relatives living in the country. 

Food is served in small cardboard boxes. No bags, no plates, no utensils.

However, if you’re so called “rich American” (Westerner) having breakfast, lunch, and dinner in one of the three fancy five-star hotels you most probably won’t even notice any food shortages or any other food-related issues. Cheap (12 USD) lobsters will be served to you on a silver platter and once you get back home, you’ll be telling everyone what a wonderful time (and food) you have had.

But if you are a backpacker on a budget, you may and will face some serious challenges… unless you are prepared to survive on pizza sandwiches during your entire stay or hot dogs depending on the area. You’ll get back home mentally drained in need of a vacation. 

Restaurants

No shortage of cigarettes. 1.50 USD a pack

Not only is there a shortage of food there is also a shortage of restaurants. There are some in the Old Town and around the Central Park but this is pretty much it. If you live in other parts of town, you may be wasting lots of time looking for food. On Malecón, for example, which is a few kilometers long Corniche I only saw one ice cream parlor and one restaurant opened during the day. At night, on some nights, a few more bars/restaurants open, and also a few stalls. 

 As in all other cities around the world, the bouncers yell out the menus to get customers in the bouncers in Havana yell “restaurant/bar” just to let you know there is a restaurant/bar… so that you wouldn’t miss it. Interestingly, the presumptive customers never come in, sit down, ask for the menu, order… and so on… but study the menu before they decide to enter… only to leave awhile later as half of the dishes that are on the menu are not available. Restaurants may run out of chicken, meat, vegetables or practically anything else. 

In this restaurant, you either eat right on the curb or bring your own plate for takeouts.

Some restaurants are so popular with locals and attract such crowds that people stand in long lines for hours in the middle of the day just to get in. And they aren’t even fancy restaurants or super hot clubs but very regular eateries.

I came across restaurants offering different menus for tourists and locals. No, they do not serve better food for tourists but they simply charge more. Much more, which brings me to another Cuban challenge – The Money Challenge. 

Tha Money Challenge

Long queues to come into the shop selling Internet Cards

There are two currencies in Cuba; for tourists (CuC) and for Cubans (peso)…. but this is a subject for another post.  However, if you’re on a budget you can eat “dirt cheap” if you pay with pesos. To get pesos do your shopping in Central Havana, pay with CuC, and you’ll get the change in pesos. Then feast on 50 cent meals in Central Havana. 

While planning Havana trip make sure your accommodation is located in an area where at least a few restaurants and shops are also located otherwise you may find yourself in real trouble. The best bet is to stay where the tourists stay like Old Havana and around the Central Park or where the locals live like Central Havana. The latter requires some getting used to as you’ll be shopping and eating in hole-in-the-wall places run from private homes. The third possibility is Vedado, 40-minute walk from the Old Havana, which is now becoming an upscale neighborhood attracting many tourists. There are few good hotels in the area, like the famous National hotel, and a few overpriced restaurants. However, there are no grocery shops. Well, there are a couple but they are practically empty.   

Shops

Local Butcher

Most shops are run from homes and offer 5-10 different items e.g. canned vegetables and ketchup, sold through an iron window grill. There are also butchers selling meat that is not refrigerated but left on display in the sun the whole day, bakeries selling cream-filled pastries and fruit stalls. To get few items together for dinner you may have to go to five different shops and stand in five different lines. Full days job. The longest lines are for freshly baked buns, just made pressed ham sandwiches, sandwich “pizzas”, cakes and hot dogs. Bred, bread and more bread. No wonder people are overweight.  

Make sure to bring a plastic bag

If there is no line don’t even think you’d struck luck but take it as a red flag. Something must be very wrong with that establishment. 

Should you ever want to shop the way locals do make sure to bring a plastic bag (or any bag) with you as no such is provided. Instead, the food is dropped as is, incl chunks of butter, in whatever bag/container you bring with you.

Supermarkets

Some “supermarkets” (there are a few) provide bags, most don’t. In the ones that do not, there will always be a few old ladies selling plastic bags. The bags are brand new and branded. Where do they get them from????

Empty shelves in supermarkets

The variety of food in “supermarkets”, as opposed to shops run from home, is not much different: macaroni, tomato cans, oil, and ketchup. Some may have few pieces of frozen meats and sausages. But for the most part, the shelves are empty. Spookily empty. Yet people stand in long lines to get in.

Before you enter supermarkets, (hmmm) malls or most of the other shops you need to strip from all the possessions you carry with you. To do so, both leave and collect, you also need to queue for quite a while. The bigger the shop the longer line. 

Rum, rum, and more rum. For 5 USD a bottle.

What there is in abundance, however, is cheap rum, vodka, and cigarettes. You can buy alcohol everywhere. And I really mean everywhere including hotdogs stalls, shops selling children’s clothes or shops run from home. No matter where you go there will be a shelf full of bottles within your reach. 

Just like in Russia during communism. When there was a shortage of food or other goods the government made sure to provide plenty of vodkas to make people happy… or to forget.

Drinking rum is a way of living. As there are no disposable cups or glasses people carry bottles of rum with them quite openly wherever they go. Many start drinking first thing in the morning and then continue as long as they can (manage).

And the women are shopping

Queuing is part of everyday life in Havana. People queue for everything; bread, lunch, Internet card, theater tickets, cinema tickets, even travel tickets. As soon as someone ‘opens a shop’ and starts selling e.g. boxed lunch, the queue is forming in no time.  The only item one can get without queuing is rum or vodka. 

Not sure how many hours a day people waste on queuing but I am guessing it must be a few. Tragically the majority of Cubans do not even know any of any other life as they have lived like that for the past 60 years.

Long line to Delta shop

I was under the impression that things may be getting better. The tourists are welcome to visit and the locals can today buy passports. But apparently, things are not better, everything is the same. They say. For what good use a passport can be put if you cannot get a visa to travel anywhere stamped into it? 

One day, while walking in Havana, it struck me: Where are all the men? I almost only see women in the streets. Then the lightbulb went off in my head. The men must be working for money while the women are working to feed the family… they are all go shopping instead.

Or should I rather say while the men are working the women are queuing?

Again. 

People of Havana- slideshow

Murals in Havana – slideshow

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Another era. The (in)famous National Hotel

First there was a past… then WiFi has come.

There is the past and then there is the past. Cuba’s past is definitely the later. 50 years have gone (or is it 60?) yet the distinct feeling of Havana’s glamorous past and its former grandeur is still very much present. The former glitter is still pretty glittery although in bad need of some polish to shine again. The rest is in ruins. It almost feels at the country had been in the war and is now rebuilding whatever can be rebuilt and what cannot be rebuilt is being demolished making room for something new to be built in its place.

A new beginning?

Central Havana

The everyday life isn’t easy. People struggle. There is a shortage of everything. And long lines everywhere. People are queuing up for every single thing. There are new challenges and new mountains to climb on a daily basis. For everyone, visitors included. For no matter how trivial visitors inconveniences may seem in comparison even they need to face challenges and learn quickly how to handle them. The learning curve is steep and not always easily understood but… what do they say?… if there is a will there is a way?

WiFi challenge

Locals and tourists alike queue up for Internet Card

Hadn’t I come to Cuba I would have never known how totally my life is dependent on the Internet. All information, banking, accommodation booking, work, my social life, even editing and spell checking this very post is totally dependent on the Internet. My entire life depends on the WiFi. When the WiFi stops running my entire life stops with it.

This is not all. I have also noticed how addicted I am to WiFi and how miserable my life becomes without it. I need a daily fix of minimum one hour to get out of my misery and begin to fly again.

It was only two years ago that Cubans got some sort of access to the Internet. There is no WiFi, or rather there is no WiFi as we know it. And there is definitely no free WiFi. The talk of the town is so called Internet Card which everybody needs to get connected and which everybody buys on a daily basis. After the initial frustration (panic really) there was no other way for me but to accept the harsh reality, adapt to the new situation and find a way to deal with it. I guess, this is what Cubans have been doing for the past 60 years.

WiFi the Cuban way

A hot spot where locals connect to the network

Hotels and many Airbnbs have, as they advertise it, WiFi. This is not quite true. What they have is some sort of connection to the Internet provider. You can connect to their network but there is no Internet access. To get the Internet access you need to buy an Internet card for 1-5 CUC /hour depending on where you buy it. Most hotels have their networks open but only visitors are welcome to connect to it. Locals are directed to local parks and squares where hot spots are provided. Needless to say, all hotel lobbies are packed with tourists trying to get in touch with their lives “back home”.

Airbnb:s, on the other hand, have their networks password protected. Not only do you need a password to get connected to the network but your host’s computer must also be connected and running. Once the host shuts his/hers computer your WiFi also shuts… and you need to go to a nearby hotel if there is one. But when you get connected to the host’s network then you need to use your newly purchased card to get access to the Internet. As many devices can be used at the same time, on a very rare occasion, a host leaves his/her network (and card) open.

But this grandma, I am sure, doesn’
t care how good/bad the connection is.. as long as she can exchange a couple of world with her loved ones

Unfortunately, as the demand is huge, the connection is so slow at times that it is practically useless. The money/time is ticking but nothing can be done during that time. The other day things were so slow that I couldn’t even shut down my session and lost all my minutes that were left (and a dollar).

On a positive note: to save time and money I have quickly learned how to use the Internet more efficiently and less time consuming by multitasking. The “trick” is to get as much as only possible done offline, and once online, let things run in the background (uploads, facebook/skype/whatsapp message deliveries) so that there is enough time to take care of tasks that can only be done online.

On a more personal note: I am (re)discovering Windows 10 and finding lots of interesting apps that I didn’t know/forgot I had. Perfect opportunity to brush up on somewhat stale knowledge?

A reflection that comes into mind: how is it possible that a hole in the wall cafe run by the indigenous people living in the mountains in Sapa Vietnam has access to free WiFi but a capital town inhabited by (supposedly) five million people has not.

Next: The Food Challenge

National Hotel in Havana established in 1930

Central Havana

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Just a little push

Yes, I am in Havana. And yes, they are really here. The cars. The best 50-year (incidental) investment the Cubans have made? Thanks to the ingenious engineering and likewise ingenious the need-is-the-mother-of-invention maintenance to keep them running these motorized horse powers tirelessly have served their masters for the past 50 years as any four-legged ones would. 

But times they are changin. And once the gates to Cuba began to crack open these frozen in time. mechanical wonders began to make history again and are today undergoing Renaissance together with the American automobile history – not in a museum but on the streets of Havana. For the best, the largest, the best-preserved collection of old American cars in the world is not rolling in the US of A but in Cuba. 

and a bit of Rusian wire

A new coat of paint for the car, a cowboy hat for its owner and off they go into more lucrative business (and future?) – cruising tourists around Havana. And they are coming. In thousands. The Old Havana is jam-packed with tourists. The famous bars like Hemingway’s La Florida or La Bodeguita del Medio where the music plays loud and the rum flows in buckets begin to fill up first thing in the morning. And after a few shots who can say “NO” to a cruise in an old automobile? For 30 USD an hour. Cheaper if you know how to haggle. Or maybe more if you’re too drunk.

The options are endless. Any model, any year, any color. Wherever you look there they are, nicely lined up waiting for you. Just pick and choose. You cannot move a yard before you hear someone yelling at you “Taxi?”, “Taxi?”, “Taxi?” The competition is fierce. Not surprisingly they all want a piece of the cake. Nobody knows how long it (and it) will last. 

Taxi Colectivo

In addition to the “new” old cars, the town is full of “old” old cars running as collective taxis. For 1 dollar (CUC – less if you pay in pesos) per head, you can get a ride to almost anywhere in town. Keep in mind though you may be reduced to a sardine as the driver tries to pack into the car as many passengers as only possible. And there is always room for another one. Then there are regular (official) yellow taxis, official yellow moped taxis and also cyclo taxis. In short, there is no shortage of wheels in Havana. 

As this wasn’t enough there is no shortage of ‘other’ antico particularo. The type from the behind of previous iron curtain. Like Polish Polski Fiat or East German Trabant both of which get the same love and care as their American cousins. Look at that Fiat. It looks almost brand new. 

Polski Fiat

East German Trabant

Nice, no?

Taxis, taxis, taxis

The sheer number of cars and the never-ending calls “Taxi?” felt a bit overwhelming in the beginning. Now I got used to the scene. Strange, how quickly we get used to things. Frozen in time yet after 50 long years of Cuban care (with some help of Russian wire) these old American automobiles are the main attraction for tourists and money making machines (?) for their owners. One ride a day can make all the difference.

So many cars yet so little traffic. No traffic jams. The Corniche by the sea is practically empty. Could it be fuel prices? I CUC (=USD) a litter. Is it much? No idea. But if this is all you make a day… I guess…

I have visited so many countries, yet visiting Cuba feels very special. So special that I wanted to share my first impressions right away. Imagine my frustration when I found out I couldn’t do it. No WiFi. Or rather no WiFi as the world knows it.

But this is a topic for my next post. Let’s hope I’ll succeed to upload this one first.

Welcome to Cuba.

Cars, cars, and more cars

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Cancun is one of the weirdest vacation projects (?) I have ever visited. To me, it is nothing more than a weekend getaway. Beyond that? A vacation factory.

Just look at the map to the right.  Looks great, doesn’t it? Long, about 15 mile-long, sandbar connected to the mainland by causeways on either end and separated from the city by a lagoon – the Nichupte Lagoon. How appealing. What a perfect location. The promise of a perfect scenery. Pristine beaches? Crystal clear water? Sunsets? Paradise? 

Hmmm. Neither. None of the above. Not even sunsets. (They are on the other side). On the beachfront strip along the Caribbean Sea, there are tons of high-rise all-inclusive hotels lined up. On the lagoon side, there are some four-five outdoor malls every few kilometers and pretty much nothing between them. This 20 kilometers long and a two-four hundred meters wide sandbar (which btw is a part of the world’s second-longest coral reef) called Zona Hotelera is what Cancun is all about.

Today, Cancun is all about Zona Hotelera.

Zona Hotelera

Just one road runs along Zona Hotelera, Kukulkan Boulevard. However, even though the sandbar is very narrow, and the road runs between the sea and the lagoon the ride isn’t as scenic as it could have been. Unfortunately, the sea (and most of the hotels) is hidden behind the trees thus not visible from the road. The views aren’t all that great on the lagoon side either.

Trees, trees, and more trees – although not as many as on the seaside.

I walked many kilometers on that road and there is absolutely nothing to do/see in between the malls. Well, with an exception of crocodiles. The Nichupte Lagoon is their natural habitat. Thus, if you are unlucky (or lucky) you may run into some of them during your stroll. There are many warning signs along the road alerting of danger. So watch out as the road is not fenced off. The crocodiles may be lurking only a few centimeters away as in some parts there is no vegetation separating the road from the lagoon. If you like to take a closer look at the crocodiles in a more secure environment you can do so by Plaza La Fiesta Mall where the fence keeps the reptiles at bay. 

The Beach

Playa Tortugas

An uninterrupted sandy (though not pristine) beach runs along the entire sandbar and beyond. I don’t know how many hotels are located on that narrow piece of land but they come one after another – most of them are all-inclusive. As the hotels are all-inclusive, there are NO bars or restaurants on the beach itself. Not even a tiny little kiosk where one can buy a bottle of water. Nothing. Nada. This alone is for me a deal breaker. In my retirement paradise or even during a beach vacation, I like to have my refreshments and meals right on the beach listening to the sound of the waves. The last thing I want is being stranded in a hotel 100 meters away separated from the beach and the sea by a concrete wall.

The only beach bar in Cancun?

Well, (truth be told) there are two places I found: 

1. There is this tiny public beach very popular with locals, Playa Tortugas, which is one long table. I didn’t like that place. Small, overpriced and very crowded.

2. There is this tiny little bar right next to Hard Rock Cafe, which I liked very much but it closes at 7 p.m.

   Note: Hard Rock Cafe has some tables on the beach.

I walked the beach (part of it) a couple of times and found four major drawbacks (at least for me):

• 

  Blue Flag beach entrance/exit

  As mentioned before, lack of bars/restaurants. Hence, the beach is not really a place where people socialize and hang out. The hotels and the outdoor hotel bars are. 

• The beach is not easily accessible: the beach is public, however, the chain of hotels along it makes the access rather difficult… if you are not a hotel guest. There are some five-six public beaches with public entrances, so-called Blue Flags, but you must know where they are. (Or tell a bus driver to stop by one of them. e.g Delfin Beach)

• 

  The first beach, Playa Las Perlas, facing the bay could be walkable but is not due to the mangrove full of mosquitoes

  The beach is not easily walkable: such a lovely, long sandy beach yet walking it is rather difficult as it faces the open and rough sea. You need to walk on the sand as walking in the water, no matter how shallow, can be somewhat hazardous especially when you carry a camera with you.

  Also, before you start waking, make sure there is an exit somewhere not too far as you may end up walking much further than you have bargained for. You may not exit/enter through hotels.

• Not only is the sea rough, it is also cold. Not many people swim in it. Hotel pools seem to be a better choice. What a shame.

  There was one thing I absolutely loved and that was the color of the Caribbean Sea. Countless shades of blue. Really amazing. 

Downtown

Dance in the park

Ever since the hotels in Zona Hotelera became all-inclusive the once vibrant downtown of Cancun, full of small restaurants and shops, is on a decline. Tourist infrastructure, restaurants, shopping, and nightlife are today all concentrated on the sandbar. Tourists no longer visit downtown but stay in hotels to drink, eat and party. In short, to get their money’s worth. The town is almost empty of visitors. The few that come, come to parks to “people watch”.

There are few parks frequented by locals that are quite interesting to visit to get a glimpse of “how the locals live”. By law, every neighborhood must have its own park. The parks are a social hub for locals offering many activities for both children and adults. 

Other than that? Same, same, wherever you look. The downtown seems to have been stripped off of its soul. Quite forgettable. Really.

Summa Summarum

I am glad I didn’t leave Cancun right away but instead stayed for a good few weeks. Mind you, I stayed not for the sea or beaches but for a home base that I happened to find downtown that worked for me… for a while. However, as I don’t mind spending some time downtown or even partying for a couple of days at the Zona Hotelera, Cancun is definitely not a retirement paradise I am looking for. 

Cancun in Pictures – The Beach

Cancun – Downtown

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It is the purest, the softest, the whitest sand washed ashore by warm turquoise waters of the ocean that makes that miles and miles long coastline so special and puts its famous beach resorts on a bucket list of every respectable beach lover. For who hasn’t dreamt of beach jewels like sophisticated Playa del Carmen, laid-back Puerto Morelos, bohemian Tulum, or the most famous of them all, hyped Cancun (officially not part of Riviera Maya)?  

The beaches of Riviera Maya have been my home for the past few weeks. Except for Tulum, I visited them all. Sadly (for me), it is also the missed Tulum that (supposedly) offers the best beaches of entire Riviera Maya as well as a lifestyle I might have enjoyed the most. (Oh well, next time?)

Beach life at La Playa

Of all places I visited so far, I like Playa del Carmen, a.k.a. Playa, the most.

Once a small village, the Playa is undergoing today rapid development to house the ever-increasing number of visitors. But for now, it still is small enough to be cozy and walkable with a perfect mix of beach vibe, laid-back lifestyle, well-balanced public/private social life in a lovely environment – right in the city center.

The City Center

The city center is divided into two parts:

• the downtown area (and beach) popular with visitors, a rectangle shaped area between the beach, street 1, Avenida 35, and street 35-40 North. If your accommodation is within this rectangle (and even adjacent blocks) you can easily walk everywhere you like including both bus terminals and ferry terminal which, btw, are conveniently right in the center of town.
• Playacar, the residential area (and beach) popular with locals and expats starting at Street 1 (ferry terminal) and continuing South along the beach away from downtown. (More about Playacar below.)

The hottest place in town and Playa del Carmen’s most famous hangout is Avenida 5 (Fifth Avenue).

Avenida 5 is a 1.5-mile long pedestrian street where most of the activities take place. This is where restaurants, bars, nightclubs, art galleries, (tourist) boutiques, souvenir shops, vendors, and even a couple of malls are located. Fifth Avenue is an urban ‘boardwalk, the place “to be”, to meet up and hang out, especially in the evening.

Not only social life of tourists but also the economy of the city revolves around Avenida 5 making the street (not surprisingly) the most expensive street in town. Only a few steps away, on Avenida 10, the prices drop considerably… and the food tastes the same. I tasted.

Note: the numbering of Avenues in Playa del Carmen is not continuous but increases by five. Avenida 5 is next to the beach, then comes Avenida 10, followed by Avenida 15, then comes Avenida 20 and so on. Thus, Avenida 20 (for example) is not 20 streets away from the beach but only 4.

The City Feel

The city itself is cozy yet sophisticated and European chick niche oriented. Its nightlife is long and vibrant and Western-style supermarkets plentiful. Boutiques, just as Seminyak boutiques in Bali, offer unique yet high fashion clothing.

Many buildings are undergoing total refurbishing and both interiors and exteriors are tastefully painted in a rainbow of colors contributing to the city’s charm and beauty (besides all the fantastic colors).

On almost every corner of Avenida 5, there are four policemen/women with loaded machine guns patrolling the area. Not sure how secure other parts of the city are but the downtown area is pretty secure at all hours. 

…and then, of course, there is Frida. Everywhere. On the street, in restaurants, in souvenir shops, and in art galleries. 

After all these years, Fridamania still keeps a firm hold on Mexico.

The beaches

Divided by ferry terminal, there are two distinctive beach areas in Playa del Carmen’s center which I call; downtown beach and Playacar beach. But if you continue walking, in any direction, new beach names (and beaches) will be popping up…  one after another.

The ‘downtown beach’ is a crowdy and vivacious place full of sunbathers, beach games, onlookers and people in general as well as restaurants, bars, happy hours and very happy holidaymakers. Beach launchers are included in cocktail prices. 

In the evening (just before sunset) many visitors gather on the main square, next to ferry terminal, to watch performances of Maya acrobats and dancers wearing colorful outfits, the same outfits their ancestors wore, and to take advantage of unique photo opportunities with indigenous people of Mexico. Visitors’ interaction is always welcome as are any questions they may have regarding Maya tribes and their life in today’s Mexico. According to locals, there are still many Maya tribes, only 1.5 hours from Playa del Carmen, living exactly the same way as they always have. And they don’t even speak Spanish.

The contrast between downtown and Playacar beaches couldn’t be more diverse. While the narrow downtown beach is a social hub perfect for parties, families, friends’ gatherings, and ‘fun in the sun’ where people, sun beds, music, as well as food and drinks, are part of the scene, the much wider and much longer Playacar beach is more secluded thus solitude perfect for long walks and romance is part of that scene.

Depending on your mood of the day you can pick “the beach of the day” to match the two.

Playacar Beach

There are not many people on Playacar beaches and no restaurants/bars/vendors either. Not a single one. The all-inclusive hotels along the way have their own bars (where you are not welcome) and the guests are hardly visible as the beach is wide and hotels are far in.

Playacar beach is not only much wider from the downtown beach but also much, much, much longer. There are no interruptions or ‘roadblocks’ along the way, e.g. rocks or no beach. I walked for at least an hour before turning back but could have easily walked much further should I chose to do so. One hour further? Two? More? I don’t know, but the beach continued all the way up to the horizon and beyond.

Living in Playacar

Playacar is an upscale, secure gated community in Playa del Carmen housing all-inclusive beach hotels, private villas, and condominiums built around a golf course. For locals and expats, this is the most desirable place to live. For tourists like myself, not so much. I absolutely hated living there. 

Playacar is huge. Bigger than downtown.  But unlike downtown, there are no restaurants, bars, shops, supermarkets, service of any sort. With an exception of cars passing by, bikes almost crashing into you, other pedestrians and paddles, there is nothing along the neverending boring road you must take each time you have a desire to get to/from your accommodation. Nada. It takes at least an hour and a half to round the area. And as it is gated area it takes half of that time to get out of there if you happen to live at the wrong end – too far from the gate.Then it takes additional 10-30 minutes to get to/from the beach, restaurants, ATM, grocery shops, social life or wherever else you need to go. In short, it may take up to an hour to get anywhere at all. And then up to an hour to get back. 

What a waste of energy, time and money

Wherever I needed to go, whatever I needed to do I had to reach the gate first. It took 30 minutes and then, after a few hours of walking in town, another 30 agonizing minutes to get back. As only “rich people” live there the taxi drivers took upon themselves to breaking the local laws by overcharging 3-4 times for a ride to/from Playacar.

So, not only getting out (or in) of there takes the unacceptably long time it also costs a lot of money. 

The fun doesn’t end there. The community, at least the residential part, suffers from water shortages. Apparently, the all-inclusive hotels waste so much water that there is hardly any left for residents thus the water is being rationed. Few buckets a day. Hardly enough for a family to shower and definitely not enough to start a washing machine.

As the hotels pay big money for the water the city officials don’t care (dare?) to solve the problem.

Living in a condominium is not fun either. All apartments face inwards, towards staircases and small courtyards leaving the residents with either no privacy or no daylight. In addition, the walls are paper thin… and the kids love playing just outside your window until late at night.

There is no doubt in my mind Playacar is a great place to live if you are a motorized resident of Playa del Carmen and live in a villa. But as a tourist, you must either stay very close to the gate or have a bike to get to/from the gate reasonably quick otherwise enjoying an isolated life of this upscale secure community might be all you’ll be enjoying.  

Summa summarum

Once I moved out of Playacar my miserable time turned instantly into fun time. Even my two minute walks to supermarket felt like a fun treat so I used to go there few times a day, just because I could. Of course, it wasn’t only the supermarket I was enjoying.  The whole town was right at my door, and I wasn’t shy to take advantage of it. 

Even though the town still has got a vibe of an easy-going small community there is no denying it is becoming increasingly touristy. Not in an alarming way. Not yet, but I am afraid it is only a matter of time before Playa del Carmen becomes another Cancun. 

Could Playa del Carmen be my retirement paradise? Definitely… but for a few months only.

Playa del Carmen in Pictures

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Ferry terminal and Immigration in San Pedro, Belize

As usual, the ferry to Chetumal departed right on time. One hour late. Conveniently, all immigration procedures (exit stamp, currency exchange) were conducted in the terminal. Disappointingly, this was the most expensive border crossing in Central America (or perhaps the world?).

To exit Belize costs 20 USD paid in either Belizean or US dollars. However, to entry Mexico costs 30 USD which must be paid cash in Mexican pesos. So make sure you exchange enough Belizean or US dollars for pesos while exiting Belize. There is a lady at immigration counter exchanging money making sure everyone has the cash for Mexican entry. (No entry cash or Belizean exit stamp you’d have to swim back to Belize). She will also exchange all your leftover Belizean dollars for Mexican pesos.

Ferry terminal and Immigration in Chetumal, Mexico

The ferry fare is 55 USD. (You can take a bus from Belize City for much less). All in all 105 USD. It is cheaper to fly, just make sure the fare includes all taxes.

NOTE for travelers coming from Caye Caulker: Regardless of which ferry operator you take (there are two operating alternative days), you need to transport yourself and your luggage from water taxi terminal in San Pedro to ferry terminal located on the other side of the island. A walk between the two takes about 15 minutes.

Two hours later I arrived in a sunny Mexican border town Chetumal. After having all bags incl hand luggage sniffed by a dog several times, receiving an entry stamp and paying the whopping 30 USD in pesos for entry stamp I left the terminal and took a stroll to my hotel…

…Through a ghost town. No people, no traffic, no cars at all, many shops closed. In the middle of the day. “Where are all the people?“, “160 000 of them?“, “Why there are so many shops closed?”. This is (supposedly) an upcoming town, but it felt on the way down, deserted, almost spooky. Perhaps not as spooky as the ghost town of Myanmar, but not by much. Besides, Naypyidaw was a cool and fascinating spooky town, Chetumal is not. 

Straight, flat, wide, town-length long streets – and empty. Good visibility but strange vibe. Something didn’t feel right. Almost every street looks the same. Few restaurants. Little to see and even less to do. The Caribbean vibe I was to feel was nowhere to be felt. The widely spoken English language was nowhere to be heard. Dull. No charm. No color. Grey, grey and more grey. The most unattractive and boring town in the world?

My (not so friendly) hotel

The only tourists that pass Chetumal are people traveling from Belize, like myself, on the way North. They, however, take a cab directly from the ferry to the bus terminal and continue to Cancun or Playa del Carmen. Alternatively, people traveling the other way, catching a 3 p.m. ferry to Belize. Should they, however, miss it… bad luck … they may have to spend the night in town. I cannot imagine anyone stays here more than one night. Anyone… but me. I spent FIVE nights and days in Chetumal – most of the time in my hotel. I must be the only tourist to ever have spent that many nights in town.

Why? Because I needed to take a break from traveling. I needed to do some writing. I needed to rest my still soring toe after hitting a stone three months prior. And a boring place with no action seemed a perfect place for all that. No attractions, no action, no temptations, no disturbance, no distraction. Dull and perfect. 

Don’t know why but the town (or rather whatever is open) shuts down already at about 6 p.m. Even my (and everybody else’s) favorite restaurant, El Taco Loco, closes at 6 p.m. (go figure). The streets that are almost empty during the day become completely deserted.  Not in suburban areas but the town center. Main street.

The few people still on the move go down to the waterfront, which is the only place in town relatively lively, at least for a couple of evening hours. Some come to watch the sunset, some come for the street food, kids come to ride electric cars. Tourists come for a stroll. The waterfront is the most attractive (the only attractive) part of town and a place where you can meet “the town”. Only in the evening though, there is no one, not a soul, at the waterfront during the day. 

If you ever get stranded here for the night don’t expect to find a restaurant just around the corner from your hotel. There are only a few restaurants and far between so you better know where you’re going. Find one on the internet and make sure it is open before you leave the hotel. Otherwise, your best bet is waterfront and street food. There are two, three restaurants and bars further up the waterfront  (away from the ferry terminal) which are open in the evening. This is it. 

Not sure if Chetumal suffers from general depression due to closed businesses and deserted streets or if the town is under some other spell, but whatever it is, it is having an influence on people living there.  They seem to be living in their own world, suspicious of others and untrusting. Not that they are unfriendly, but they are not friendly. Even at my hotel, the staff was more “businesslike” than they needed to be creating unnecessarily rather unfriendly and unpleasant atmosphere, even hostile (making me lose my cool once). 

Still, it was neither the deserted streets nor the not so friendly inhabitants that made my stay in Chetumal less perfect than it could have been but the fresh water (at least fresher) or rather lack of it. Smelly water, poisoned by all sort of strong smelling chemicals dripping from hardly functional showerhead proved to be more of a challenge than I expected or was willing to accept.

I was in a desperate need of a proper shower. 

Chetumal in Pictures

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