Sunrise in Tulum was my escape. Every morning, before the crowds awoke and swarmed the beach, I would have a few blissful moments to myself. I’d wake up around 6 AM, walk barefoot to the beach and wait for the sun to peek out from behind the clouds. Sometimes it would, sometimes it wouldn’t. Regardless of whether it did or not, these couple of hours were my escape.
The cool water would creep up and soothe my calloused feet. Shoes have been optional my entire month in Tulum, and the soles of my feet were suffering for it. The salt water served as gentle relief every time it curled up over the white sands. A few other sunrise watchers would join me for nature’s first show of the day, but besides them, the world was still. The raucous crowds dancing the night away in Tulum’s Zona Hotelera were still fast asleep. It would be hours before they would rouse from their drunken slumber and try to cure their hangovers with sunshine and salt water.
The afternoon was all theirs, as long as I had the mornings.
Resort workers joined the sunrise beach walkers as the only ones up at this hour. They’d rake the sargassum and garbage washed up on the shores from the night before. Their wheelbarrows wobbled in the sands as they cleaned the beaches up nice and pretty for Tulum's high-class clientele.
Walk far enough and the resorts start feeling a little more spread out. The long strip of bamboo mansions give way to more dilapidated private residences and independent accommodation. The palm trees become denser, and the jungle truly feels like it meets the sea as one approaches Sian Kaan. As the world awakens, I move further away from the world. At this point, I’m the only person on my lengthy strip of private beach. The sun has come out by now, not quite in full force, but enough to coax me into the ocean.
The cycle repeats, as I jump out to dry off, and then jump back in to cool down. As noon approaches, hunger beckons me back towards civilization. The beach becomes unrecognizable on the way back. A month spent living in the secluded jungles outside of Tulum has made me sensitive to people’s energies, and crowds have become overwhelming. My few moments of zen in the morning give way to booming reggaeton playlists and tourists in vacation mode.
But those few moments of serenity over the sea were all I needed.
