Wading through inky blue water in the pre-dawn light, I felt a familiar thrill mixed with trepidation. It was January 2026, and I was returning to Mexico for the first time since living there in 1999. My destination was the elusive Punto Mosquito sandbar, a sliver of white sand 30 metres offshore from Holbox Island, accessible only at low tide. As the horizon began to glow, I realised my solo adventure came with an unexpected companion: a crocodile, watching me with a gimlet eye from the lagoon.
From Fly-and-Flop to Freedom
My journey began on Virgin Atlantic's inaugural flight from Heathrow to Cancún, marking the airline's return after a six-year hiatus. Landing to the sound of an all-female mariachi band, I embarked on a two-part trip. The first week was dedicated to 'fly-and-flop' acclimatisation at The Fives Hotels & Residences near Playa del Carmen. This beachfront property, set among cenotes and mangroves, offered a gentle re-entry with organised tours.
Virgin Atlantic's excursions provided stress-free adventures, from the hypnotic swim in the Ix Balam cenote, where stalactites mirrored perfectly in glassy water, to ziplining at the Xplor adventure park. A move to Tulum's Grand Palladium Kantenah Residence brought butler service and ancient Mayan rituals like the Temazcal sweat lodge. Yet, the sanitised resort experience soon stirred a desire for the raw Mexico I remembered.
Striking Out Solo Across the Yucatán
Leaving the resort zone felt radical. I boarded a colectivo (shared minibus) to Tulum for just 30 pesos (£1.20), a stark contrast to the $100 taxi fare. This simple act reconnected me with the country's rhythm. Tulum itself was unrecognisable from the off-grid backpacker haven I visited in 1999, now drawing two million visitors yearly. A local contact advised me to preserve it as a memory and head north to Holbox.
First, I drove inland, hiring a car for £150 for the week. A tense police stop was navigated with calm and Spanish. I explored Chichén Itzá at opening time, standing in near-silence before El Castillo, and climbed the wilder ruins of Ek Balam. Nights were for street food in villages like Pisté, a world away from resort restaurants.
Holbox: Solitude, Sandbars and Surprises
The final leg involved a drive to Chiquila, parking for 100 pesos (£4.20) a day, and a half-hour ferry to car-free Holbox Island. Often called 'Tulum before the crowds,' its sandy streets are navigated by bicycle or golf buggy. I stayed at Blue Holbox in a beachfront villa, perfectly positioned between the town's glowing bars and the vast Yum Balam nature reserve.
Days drifted with bioluminescent swims, beach massages, and exceptional street food like lobster pizza and shrimp empanadas. But the defining moment came at dawn on the Punto Mosquito sandbar. After a blissful, solitary hour, I was startled by the crocodile—a stark reminder of the perils and privilege of solo travel. The encounter, followed by the serene parade of a flamingo family, encapsulated the trip's essence: a rediscovery of curiosity and openness.
My return after 27 years revealed a Mexico that has evolved, yet whose irresistible rhythm remains unchanged. I boarded my flight home from Cancún with sand on my feet, having reconnected not just with a place, but with the adventurous spirit it first instilled in me.
