Next I wanted to go somewhere to get away from all the backpackers I'd been bumping into over and over, but instead I ended in Tulum, which is a very touristy beach town in the Yucatan. At first I was totally shocked by how expensive it was there- bungalows on the beach can cost over 60 US per night, but then I found one of the only cheap places on the beach, a "semi-clandestino" spot called Playa Esperanza where I rented a hammock for 80 pesos a night. I ignored the fact that 80 pesos could get you a proper hotel room in some smaller Mexican cities and enjoyed the rustic charm of throwing your bag down on the sand and sleeping in the morning under shady palm trees. Then, one by one all the folks I had been hanging out with in Palenque filed in- El Gato Negro, the French reggae singer and his band of Argentine musicians and thier lovely girlfriends, Mariana the Chillena who showed up with her ragged gang of little Mexican hippies ("banda" kids as they are calling themselves) who camped out in the wood nearby, and the Goldy sisters, who were the closest thing to hipsters I had met in south Mexico. Anyway, there was much partying, bonfires, a wicked drum and bass party on the beach, swimming, and playing on the rocks and cliffs nearby. I went and saw the ruins nearby, which are perched over a beautiful beach:
Emma and Rebecca were feeling the Carribean vibe.
There is something about the beaches in Tulum that makes girls start to pose and take model-type photos. I have seen this phenomena on the memory card of many a digital camera down here.
We walked over the cliff back from a remote beach
Followed by mysterious dogs The Goldy sisters
Heres what things looked like from my perspective most of the time
At nightfall they would turn on the candelabra over the "dinner table", which was the only light if we didn't make a fire. My 80 pesos was not going to waste!
Hood, aint it?
El Gato Negro is the new signing to Animal Blanco records. I would go around busking with him at bars on the beach and he would sing these crazy medleys of Manu Chao, Sizzla, Seu Jorge, Anthony B and old Cuban revolutionary songs mixed with his own freestyle rapping and dancehall toasting about whatever place we were at. He would tell everyone that I was the "manager" because I had dark shades could speak English. From then on he just called me "manager". We worked on a remix there on the beach while I tried to keep the sand out of my laptop.
A total Cheyenne-like lovable goofball with infinite energy.