Beach Bummed in Bacalar

May 19, 2024|Rick Juliusson

I’m bored. Lying under a palm tree beside the famous 7-coloured lagoon in Bacalar, Mexico, a few hours inland from Cancun. Sucking on the fresh slice of pineapple garnishing my virgin mojito, waiters in crisp white shirts conjuring fresh shrimp ceviche and fish tempura.

Clear water just cool enough to be refreshing on this 90 degree summer day. Just enough older missionary folx, bikini-clad Europeans, and families with football (soccer)-playing children to enjoy people-watching. A good book, a gentle breeze, a comfortable lounge chair shaded by palm trees for napping.

And I’m bored. My alternate titles for this post were: Privileged Pout, Poor Little Richie Rich, and Cry Me a Tropical Lagoon (open to other suggestions in the comments below!) If I can’t be happy in this paradise, just what is wrong with me?

It’s not my usual discomfort with privilege and wasting money. This day cost us $70 including beach club facilities, food & drink, and taxi - a sometimes treat we can afford. This isn’t some rich tourist exclusive club - more than half the guests are Mexican. Not a jet ski in sight. Kim Kardashian does not lounge here.

In part, I’m missing the challenging social and political immersion we had in Cuba, or the rich community of Monteverde. It’s day four in Mexico and I’ve yet to really talk to a local person, learn a story, see a new perspective, understand this foreign country in any new way. I am enjoying and appreciating the beauty and solidity of Mexico, but not finding a way to scratch beneath the surface. This lounge chair with the million-dollar view doesn’t let me see anything deeper.

A healthier factor is that I don’t really need a beach vacation. I’m not escaping the high-stress rigors of running a school and needing the first week just to let go then the second week to sink in and have some rejuvenation. I live in a state of relaxation, little stress, freedom to dream into each day. I go to bed early and sleep until I’m ready to awaken, then lie in bed snuggling with my beautiful wife instead of creeping downstairs to light up the laptop without waking the kids. My soul and body and once-weary brain are not crying out for a beautiful void in which to release; they’re looking for fresh adventure to fill back up. This isn’t Waiting To Exhale, it’s Ready to Inhale.

I’m very happy to share that Sarah also feels this openness and relaxation. She’s much better than me at relaxing into a beach day, but has reduced her workload to the point where she truly can take days off like this, and not resent my greater degree of freedom other days.

To be clear, Bacalar lives up to its “Magical City” billing. This lovely small town provides numerous public piers and private beach clubs from which we splash, sunbathe, and watch the sun rise and set over the water. The 16-mile long lagoon really does have 7 shades of turquoise depending on depth, sun and wind. Seafood is fresh and plentiful, especially at the amazing Nixtamal restaurant where the cocoa-encrusted salmon was so amazing we had to go back to enjoy my birthday steak with passionfruit coulis. The circus/dance show and anarchist posters at Pirata Galleon felt straight out of a night at the Duncan garage or East Van’s Cultch (or pretty much anywhere in Austin).

In our efforts to not bounce around too much, we stayed a full week in Bacalar. I inevitably melted into it, adopting the slower rhythm, even going back to that “Blu” Beach Club a second time (albeit with the laptop to work on my statistics grad school course). Ate a lot of ceviche, continued our average of well over 12,000 steps/day (plus swimming), worked out, worked, and fully enjoyed the privilege of just living in a beautiful place for a week.

A good reminder that we’re not on vacation; we’re choosing to live our lives in new places, and every place doesn’t have to pop or unfold with the same brilliance. And that the people fortunate enough to live there full-time aren’t obliged to be wowed by yet another short-term visitor - Monteverde’s open-armed community and our unique immersion experience in Cuba aren’t going to happen at every stop where people are busy living their real lives.