Finding the "Real Mexico" in Quintana Roo

Text and photos by Todd Morrill
            The following piece is based on a press trip I took in August, 2011 that was sponsored by the JW Marriott Cancun Resort & Spa and the Rosewood Mayakoba Resort.

Cenote El Jardin de Eden, a Garden of Eden in Quintana Roo, Mexico.

       I’m standing on a 30-foot cliff looking down into a cenote, one of hundreds of freshwater sink holes scattered across Mexico’s Riviera Maya, the coastal area directly south of Cancun. 

The ancient Mayans believed cenotes were sacred entrances to the underworld, and dropped gold, precious stones and people into their waters to convince the gods to send them a bountiful harvest.

Normally I’m not a fan of cliff diving, but the 95-degree temperature makes the water look awfully inviting. 

I count to three and offer myself to the gods.

View of the Caribbean Sea from a balcony at the JW Marriott Cancun.

For years I avoided Quintana Roo, the Mexican state that is home to the country’s two most popular tourist destinations:  Cancun and the Riviera Maya.

While I had visited most other parts of Mexico, and had fallen in love with the architecture, food, and culture, I didn’t think Cancun—which the Mexican tourism agency built from scratch in the 1970s—could offer me an authentic Mexican experience.  Sure, the beaches looked great in pictures, but when I travel, I like to get to know a place, not read novels on the sand. 

Another mark against Cancun in my mind was its reputation as a cheap getaway for rowdy U.S. college students.  From media reports and word of mouth, I pictured the city (whose name means “snake nest” in Mayan) as a raucous Vegas-by-the-sea, a cultural black hole of nondescript hotels, U.S. fast-food outlets and drunk 18-year-olds. 

As for the Riviera Maya, I imagined a land of tacky Mayan theme parks and cookie-cutter, all-inclusive resorts that could just as well have been in Tahiti as in Mexico. 

Cancun:  more international than Mexican, but great base for authentic day trips.

     When I finally did visit Quintana Roo, however, I found my perceptions had been wrong—or at least outdated.  True, there’s not a lot that’s typically Mexican about Cancun, but the city—in addition to being a world-class beach resort—makes a great base for day trips to Mayan ruins, cenotes and smaller towns on the Riviera Maya.  These places will quickly remind you that you are, indeed, south of the border. 

      And the frat boys?  They’re gone.

     “Several years ago, the Cancun hotels decided to no longer offer the cheap rooms that brought in the college students,” says Ashish Khullar, director of market strategy at the JW Marriot Cancun.  “That crowd now goes to Acapulco.”

     Phew.

     When it comes to the Riviera Maya, my dim view may have been correct a few years ago, but certainly not today.  The theme parks and all-inclusives are still there, but the 100-mile stretch of coastline now includes resorts with first-rate architecture, gourmet food—Mexican and otherwise—and respect for the area’s unique ecology.

Guests houses on a canal at Rosewood Mayakoba on the Riviera Maya.

     SAFETY CONCERNS

     At this point you may be thinking, that’s great, but why would I choose to vacation in a country plagued by drug wars?

Sense of security:  police station on Cancun's main
tourist thoroughfare, Avenida Kukulkan.

     The question is valid, but it’s important to remember that Mexico is a large country, and according to the U.S. State Department, drug-related violence is limited almost exclusively to a handful of areas.  These include sites along the U.S. border, as well as the cities of Monterrey, Mazatlan and Acapulco, all of which are at least 1200 miles from Cancun.

     That said, visitors to Quintana Roo should be cautious, but the evidence—as well as my own experience—suggest there is no reason to avoid the region for fear of drug violence.

View of Caribbean Sea from JW Marriott Cancun.

     SNAKE NEST
     As I step into my Cancun hotel room, I’m drawn immediately—as if by Siren’s song—to the balcony and its view of the Caribbean.  The blinding white sand forms a stunning contrast to the water, which morphs imperceptibly from aquamarine at the shore to sapphire at the horizon.  I didn’t come here for the beach, but I have to admit it’s more beautiful in reality than on postcards.

     After staring at the scene for nearly half an hour, I can’t resist getting in the water, so I put on my trunks and go downstairs.  In addition to earning a 10 for aesthetics, this beach rates a perfect score for comfort:  the sand is soft and powdery, the water warm and gentle.

     But I must press on.

Mayan-style chocolate at Ah Cacao, one of hundreds of
upscale shops on Cancun's Avenida Kukulkan. 

As I walk along Avenida Kukulcan, the manicured main thoroughfare of Cancun's Hotel Zone,  it’s hard to believe this was once Spring Break headquarters for much of North America.  The avenue is home to posh retailers like Gucci, Hermes and Louis Vuitton, as well as upscale restaurants that serve everything from Argentine barbecue to Asian fusion.  And the large hotels that line the boulevard (which number more than sixty) are attractive and surrounded by lush landscaping--a far fry from the concrete bunkers I had imagined.  As for the visitors, they're well dressed and well behaved.  The atmosphere here is decidedly luxe, not loose.  

The Hotel Zone also seems safe.  Police officers in shiny new cars are on constant patrol on Avenida Kukulcan, and a station marked “Tourist Police”—in English—is located next to the restaurant and shopping district. 

Ruins of the Mayan city of Tulum, on the Riviera Maya.

      TULUM

The beach calls to me again the next morning, but I’m here to explore the real Quintana Roo, so I head, instead, to the Mayan ruins of Tulum.  Located 80 miles south of Cancun on the Riviera Maya, the city was founded around 1200 A.D., long after the Mayan empire had reached its zenith.  As such, the ruins are not as large or as elaborate as those at other Mayan sites, but Tulum’s setting—a limestone cliff a hundred feet above the Caribbean—is unmatched.

Soon after I enter the city, through a narrow gap in the 15-foot wall that surrounds it, I catch a glimpse of the Temple of Kukulcan, perched directly above the beach.  The three-story structure is the largest building at Tulum, and its gray stone melds beautifully with the stunted coastal greenery, the blue sky and the multi-hued Caribbean. Stairs lead down to the water, where dozens of visitors are taking refuge from the heat. 
        I’m tempted to dive in as well, but I move on to what’s known as the Temple of the Descending God. 
        Carved on the frieze of this building is an upside-down human figure with wings. Theories vary as to what the figure represents.  A bee god, come to teach the people of Tulum to produce honey?  An early astronaut?  We may never know.
        As I leave Tulum through another narrow passage, I look back to see several dozen coatis—native animals that look like a cross between a spider monkey and a lemur—running along the top of the thick stone wall.
        In the parking lot, I buy a coco frio, or cold coconut.  As I watch, the vendor hacks off the husk with his machete, pokes a hole in the top and inserts a straw.  The icy water must be an acquired taste, I decide, but since I’m parched, I slurp it down.

Authentic Mexico:  a coco frio in Tulum.

GARDEN OF EDEN  

Back at the cenote, the gods must not want me, because I quickly pop back up to the surface, ready to jump in again.

This particular cenote, a rough oval that covers the area of two Olympic-size swimming pools, is called El Jardín de Eden, or the Garden of Eden.  It does seem like paradise, with jungle-covered limestone walls surrounding water that shifts from sea foam green to inky blue.

I snorkel awhile, observing a school of feathery yellow fish.  Then I watch a group of scuba divers who are training to enter tunnels that connect this cenote to several others.  Who knows, maybe this is the entrance to the underworld.

Quinta Avenida in Playa del Carmen.

         On my way back to Cancun, I stop in Playa del Carmen, a one-time fishing village that has become the budget travel center of the Riviera Maya.  Bathing suits are de rigueur on the town’s pedestrian thoroughfare—Quinta Avenida—lined with moderately priced hotels and open-air restaurants.  It’s also home to odd places like Crazy Mexican Photo, where tourists dress up like mariachis and get a sepia-toned record of the event.  Tourist police in a modified golf cart are a constant presence on the boulevard.

          I'm tempted to spend some time on Playa del Carmen's fantastic beach, but I resist.

La Cueva del Chango restaurant in Playa del Carmen.

Instead, I have lunch at La Cueva del Chango, or the Cave of the Monkey, where I sit at an outdoor table surrounded by greenery.  When I tell the waiter I’d like to try something native to the region, he suggests a cream soup made of poblano chilies.

“Pica?” I ask, meaning, loosely, “Will it burn my tongue off?”

“No,” he says, “no pica.”  He explains the soup is made with plenty of cream and other ingredients that thoroughly dilute the effect of the chilies.

I take his word for it, but when the soup arrives, I need a fire extinguisher. 

I try, instead, the chalupitas--corn tortillas topped with black beans and a soft white cheese from Oaxaca--and sopes de pollo, open-faced chicken tacos served with mole, the traditional Mexican sauce made of ground nuts, spices and chocolate.  Everything is fresh, flavorful and authentic, so different from the Tex-Mex and Mexican fast food I usually get in the U.S.

Chalupitas at La Cueva del Chango, Playa del Carmen.

MAYAN MASSAGE

Back in Cancun, I have a traditional Mayan massage at the JW Marriott Spa, during which my therapist surprises me with a serenade on a Mayan flute.

Later that evening, I take a cruise on Nichupte Bay, the body of water that separates the hotel zone from downtown Cancun, where the city’s workers live.  I admire the skyline as we cruise along mangrove-covered banks, passing signs that say “Watch out for Crocodiles.”

Just as the sun begins to set, we dock at Harry’s, where I’m planning to have dinner overlooking the bay.  But the sunset is so astounding—oranges, reds, magentas and purples merging together seamlessly and changing every few seconds—that several other diners and I spend half an hour taking pictures before we even look at the menu.

Cancun sunset from Harry's restaurant.

     The sunset gone, I order pozole with Caribbean lobster.  This is an upscale take on a traditional Mexican soup made of hominy and dozens of other ingredients, including chopped radish, onion, cilantro and fried tortilla strips.  I’m wary of the concoction at first, but it’s actually very tasty.

UPSCALE GREEN

For my last two days in Quintana Roo, I stay at the Rosewood Mayakoba, a five-star eco-resort on the Riviera Maya with the philosophy that it’s possible to vacation in luxury while saving the earth. 

The resort, which consists primarily of one-story detached suites set along ecologically sensitive mangrove canals, has an on-staff biologist, Alonso Ortiz, who is tasked with making sure the complex meets—and exceeds—Mexico’s strict environmental regulations.

Ortiz gives me an eco-tour of the property on an electric boat that resembles a Venetian gondola.  “Here comes the welcoming committee!” he says as a flock of cormorants takes to the air.  According to Ortiz, a hundred species of birds, as well as 250 other animal species, make the Rosewood Mayakoba their home. 

Staff biologist Alonso Ortiz points out a few of the more than one
  hundred bird species at Rosewood Mayakoba, Riviera Maya.

          As we glide through the canals in the silent, non-polluting boat, we see blue herons, egrets and turtles, as well as some more menacing residents—alligators and crocodiles.

“That’s why we have plunge pools,” Ortiz says.

Having explored the ruins, cenotes and towns of Quintana Roo, I’m now content to stay inside the resort.  One afternoon I have lobster tacos overlooking a mile-long stretch of beach.  One morning I take a yoga class.

Another afternoon I wander the complex admiring the architecture, which can only be described as Mayan Deconstructivist.  Structures are free form, with few right angles, built of native woods and stone that blend seamlessly with the mangroves and limestone canals.  Outdoor lighting is kept to a minimum, allowing for fantastic views of the night sky.

I think the ancient Mayans would approve.

Bathroom with outdoor shower at Rosewood Mayakoba, Riviera Maya.

I think they’d also like my suite, which is nothing like the thatched huts found at some eco-resorts.  This place has limestone floors, mahogany furniture and a garden courtyard complete with shower.  It also has a walk-in closet the size of an average hotel room.

On my final day at the Rosewood Mayakoba, I visit the resort’s private cenote--at the center of its spa--where I sit on a stone bench and contemplate.  I wish I had discovered Quintana Roo years earlier.  Far from the bland, Americanized experience I had feared, my trip has been full of authentic Mexican experiences, teaching me a great deal about the region’s Mayan culture, native cuisine and fragile ecology. 

The beaches have been pretty enticing, as well.

Maybe next time I’ll bring a paperback.