Category: Travel Stories

1) Ubitzya (aka Felix) is actually a total beaut, Chessbrah community always steps it up and I was surprised at how much fun it was to be sitting in the hostel bar just playing speed chess. Super happy to be a long time chess player, it was a bit sad to only be able to catch him on day two, dude was some sort of Eastern European + had a couple of days of freedom on the tail end of his trip with his hot wife (obvi showed mea picture of her) and pretty much stuck around / grabbed an air bnb next to the hostel just to catch me for some blitz. Very cool of him.

2) Got the Mexican Tinder wheels going, a bit hazy but think it was on night 3 that I had a couple of local girls drive in from downtown to the hotel zone to meet up with me. All was well until they tried to come into the hostel for a drink; apparently at Mayan Monkey Cancun, there’s a very early cutoff for outside guests; they didn’t have hostel bracelets and security was not keen on letting them in. Tried to rope them into the night’s adventures, but with a car, they had super ambitious plans to drive on to Playa Del Carmen where “the real party” was at… almost went with them, but was convinced by Jeff and the hostel crew that they were just going to take me down the street and get some corrupt Policia to rob me at gun point, so I shied away from that potential adventure. Got a text at 8am on Day 4 saying they were just coming back, apparently everyone is ok with driving drunk / high here.

3) To this point, every meal I’ve eaten has been at the Burrito Surf Shop. To be fair the burritos are good, but for fuck sakes there are only so many you can eat.

4) The Taxi drivers love me at this point, and I’ve never been in one since the airport. You can figure that one out.

5) Day 1 I tried to bring in a flat of brewskis from across the street, apparently not allowed to bring booze into Hostel rooms either, thanks for the heads up Jeffy. I did manage to sneak it my room. On one of the sloppier nights, there was a really cute girl who was just bawling her eyes out in the hallway, probably around midnight. I was on my way back down to the bar from my room, and ended up chucking a beer at her and asking if she was ok. Very sloppy honestly, at some point she flipped on me and told me she had a boyfriend, and pulled away to another common area… def kept the beer though. Hard to say if I said something wrong, I’d like to think my intentions were pure, but she was def cute and everyone was trashed, so I probably said something dumb. Oh well.

Day 4 (Tuesday, Jan 12, 2021):

This is the first day where I start to realize how sad travelling actually is. Imagine a condensed version of first year university where you meet a bunch of people, and then everyone leaves for the summer holidays… except they’re leaving forever and you’ll probably never see them again. Luca and Angie have become a steady Eddy couple, but night 3 was the last night for both fake Devon and Rammstein, it’s a super hazy hungover morning.

Rammstein is actually travelling around Mexico kite surfing with his mom, which is super cute, they’re obviously doing something right. Fake Devon is bouncing too and I actually don’t even get to catch him for a farewell, will have to run into him in a cornfield in Ohio or something, probably picking up some mad pussy because he looks like real Devon, genetics didn’t drop the ball on these guy’s looks. Actually uncanny what a doppelganger he was, he even wears the same stupid fucking jean jacket Devo loves.

It was also Deanna and Ashley’s last night at the Mayan Monkey. Dorm life wasn’t suiting these bougie ladies, so much in fact that even though they had a dorm room together with some strangers, Ashley was basically camped out in my room for the two previous nights. So much for my private room, fuck me am I right boys?

Anyways, Jeff has an appointment with a Mexican dentist to get his teeth whitened; apparently dentistry in Mexico is still a ripoff, but a ripoff at Mexican prices. Deanna, Ashley and I decide to get a bite somewhere other than the same burrito shop for the 12th time, so after saying farewell to our new homies, we roll down the strip back towards the club and restaurant zone.

We see a big sign for Mexican Hooters in the background, which I was super down for, but we end up settling for the first resto bar that we reach, right past a mini strip mall where buddy is trying to hawk us a million novelty Tee shirts.

The resto bar is called Fat Thursdays, and I can guarantee no one ever got fat eating there, because the food is fucking terrible. Deanna and I both order burgers, which she takes care to order without tomatoes or lettuce, and which is a waste of time because they don’t put anything on their burgers, ours come out the same. Cardboard style bread, the saddest patty you’ve ever seen in your life, and instead of bacon they basically layered a strip of Spam from a can, which is melted into the slice of Kraft cheese so you can’t even peel it off and bin it. “Bacon”. Also chucked an order of fries at me even though I didn’t ask for one.

Prior to the food arriving, I was introduced to my first “Extendo”; Deanna has gone missing, and Ashley is just pouring her beer over the railing of the bar and onto the street. I was looking at Ashley asking her what the fuck she was doing… and then I realize Deanna is on street level, catching the beer down a 4 foot drop or so in her mouth. Good stuff, the girls are still bringing the energy, I can get behind this.

Anyways, there’s a super scary moment during the meal, our chairs are basically bar stools, and at some point Deanna basically just straight up conks out and falls out of her chair. Zero chance that I have the reflexes to catch her / it was so sudden, she goes chair to ground in about half a second flat, KOed with eyes wide open, and I honestly think she’s dead. One of the best friends I’ve ever made, and this is how she goes out, food poisoned / roofied at some shitty Mexican bar?

I hop down next to her to check on her. My first though is it’s alcohol related so I turn her over onto her side because my only medical knowledge is to make sure she’s not drowning in her own puke, and I’m yelling at the staff to call an ambulance, cause I’m definitely not qualified to handle this.

All of a sudden she comes back to us. Thank fucking god, no one wants their last meal to be at Fat Thursdays. Doesn’t really know what’s going on at first, but she’s alive, we ask for some water… which we end up getting charged for on our bill at the end, pretty fucking ridiculous.

Novelty T shirt guy hasn’t left us alone the entire time we’ve been eating, and actually has an amazing T shirt for the moment: “One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila, Floor!”. Almost bought it but was a bit too shaken up.

Talking to Deanna afterwards, it turns out she didn’t take a sip of water the entire boat day prior. The sun has been beating us down the last few days, and it’s about 30 degrees out, so the stories checks out. It turns out the human body can’t survive on just alcohol, so we chalk it up to dehydration, and get the fuck out of the worst restaurant in Mexico.

Pretty lazy day for me, I’m just chilling at the bar waiting for Jeff to come back with his new chompers. Deanna and Ashley have gone about a twenty minute drive south down the hotel zone to check in to their room at the Westin, Jeffy comes back with no noticeable difference to his teeth (which the rest of us find hilarious and chirp heavily), and we all go for a fancy dinner at a restaurant called Harry’s Steakhouse.

On the one hand, fuck these bougie bitches; on the other hand, compared to the bottle and uh, taxi driver nights, this is a pretty cheap night out and we are getting some quality service. Deanna’s tartar and my Caesar salad get made table side, there’s an insanely hot girl rolling into the resto with what I can only assume is a Cartel boss (dressed the part, drove the part, dude obviously an animal).

I end up yoloing on Australian Onyx steak, which is cheaper than the Kobe beef on the menu, and it’s absolute money, one of the best I’ve had, and this is coming from an Alberta boy. Worth mentioning that Jeff asked for us to change tables about 4 times, the picky motherfucker, but all in all a pretty incredible Mexico dinner. Will attach some food pictures with this post.

The girls are still tuckered out, Jeff and I get back to the Monkey, and I have a German Tinder date that’s supposed to roll in. She looks fucking cute in the pictures too. But it’s late, she had just arrived the previous night at the “Party Fiesta Hostel” (seriously… Party Party Hostel? guaranteed no party there), and instead of a 1 on 1 she brought some additional warriors in, Browntown from Toronto and purple haired British dude. So no date, basically just party time.

I had learned from my bracelet fiasco with the Playa del Carmen bound ladies the last time, and managed to conjure bracelets for all 3 of them, we chilled with Jeff and a fun British couple, and got about 2 rounds of drinks in before we realized bar had made last call, at about 10pm, without telling any of us. I rolled across to the OXOX (basically Mexico’s 7-11 / dep) but they wouldn’t sell me anything. Still managed to rally the troops back to Jeffs room for a nightcap, a lot of fun chatting to these degenerates.

We blasted some music in the balcony room Jeff had complained his way into, and started slamming down his bottle of tequila. Turns out the British stereotypes are true, those kids absolutely love drugs. German girl too, apparently a European thing. Browntown and purple hair were Tulum bound, as were we, and we made tentative plans to meet up with them later on.

Leah (German girl) had just got into Mexico, and was going to do the “hot girl works in hostel bar part time for free room and board” thing. No sparks unfortunately, particularly given the group dynamic, but a really cool girl none the less. Jeff punted everyone out of his a room around 5am, I retired back to my room solo and too tired to even rub one out, wrapping up day 4.

Day 5:

Holy fucking hangover Batman. Jeff and I checked out of the Mayan Monkey; definitely a little sad to see it go. Check out time was supposed to be 11am, but we managed to drag our corpses out around 1pm and Jeff talked our way out any sort of sur charge; sometimes it pays to be a complainer.

We still had to strip our beds and hamper everything up, a fun perk of hostel life. Also worth mentioning that every day, I was leaving an American $5 in my tip envelope in the room. The house keeper was not just keeping my room clean, she was folding/hanging my clothes, set all my shoes up neatly, etc… honestly the greatest service of all time, for five bucks a day. Incredible how far the freedom dollar goes in some places.

Anyways, Jeff and I are Tulum bound later in the evening around 6pm, we have several hours to kill, so we pile over to the Westin where the girls are staying and drop our bags off. Pretty much what you’d expect for a beachside hotel: classier looking folks all around, and the rooms are cozy. We don’t waste much time in the room and head poolside, where I order the fattest burger I’ve ever seen in my life, looks like two half pound patties just loaded with toppings. That and a drink run me twenty USD but it’s money well spent, putting Fat Thursday’s to shame, and I manage to plow my way through it.

Deanna, Jeff, and Ashley are more musically inclined than I, and the girls waste no time in pumping some filthy gangster beats by the pool. Hands down the most ratchet shit I’ve ever heard come out of speakers before, lyrics involve a lot about wetness and they aren’t talking about water. Some straight up Diddy shit.

An American dad approaches Jeff and I while the girls are in the pool and ask us if we could respect the kids with regards to the music. We let him know that we have absolutely no control over the girls, and in fact, we barely know them.

He convinces the ladies to turn their trashy rap down a level, and eventually we pile onto the beach for a few hours for an absolutely miserable hangover day. The first three days in Mexico have been absolutely gorgeous, but today’s cold and overcast, perhaps a grim omen for our future adventure.

Manage to get thirty minutes of beer sweats and zero tanning in, and then it’s a rush for Jeff and I to the bus station; the girls will follow us to Tulum the next day. Bus ride is pretty nondescript, it’s about a two hour drive south to Tulum that I sleep through, and we arrive slightly more rested and hungry as balls.

Jeff and I have a condo / airbnb setup associated with Hostel Che. Before we check in, we hit a random restaurant, Encanto Cantina and mow down some “catch of the day” on pepperleaf. It’s Tilapia, soaked in some plantain, and fairly subpar, but tastes great in our famished state. Surpassing the food quality is the entertainment; one of the best live bands I’ve heard in a long time is playing. It’s just two guys, guitar/singer and bass, but they are absolutely shredding, alternating between US classic rock and Spanish songs. We stay for a cocktail (Bloody Mary, which is basically a shitty US version of a Caeasar), and then roll to the hostel to check in and grab our room keys.

By the time we get there it’s midnight, and they have our reservation all fucked up. We’re booked for an extra night in Tulum, they have us down for 3 guests instead of 2, and we are absolutely exhausted. We start getting into a greasy argument with the night shifter, but he eventually caves and tells us we can spend the night and sort things out in the morning.

Night shift guy ends up being a beauty, and brings some beers up to our flat for us to help keep the peace. We crush a couple with him and make small talk before he bounces back to his post.

I’m a pretty easygoing guy that gets along well with more sorts, and Jeff is a picky motherfucker always willing to start a fight over a minor detail. Definitely good to have both types on a trip to make sure we can actually get a room, without getting fleeced. The condo is honestly incredible (prob video to follow), about 19 steps up from the fucking hostel we were at before, and we KO reasonably satisfied with the accommodation.

Day 6:

At this point I need to do laundry desperately. My suitcase was half full of winter clothes from Calgary since the intention has been to come straight back to Montreal after this trip. I somehow came to Mexico with only two pairs of shorts, one of which I found out was missing the button. Absolute disaster.

We also need to get our room situation sorted out, and the day shift is equally useless as the night one at properly cancelling the final night of our stay. Definitely grumpy moods all around but we manage to get in touch with the insanely hot Argentinian manager, who sorts it out for us because, let’s get real, we’re still booked for six nights. That’s a lot of Pesos.

We slam a quick one at the hostel bar (across the street from our accommodations). It’s a fairly standard looking bar, adjacent to another shitty swimming pool that no one will ever use. The only thing of note is a Chez Serge style wheel of death (wheel to spin for “dares”, will get to that later).

We decide to hit the beach, even though it’s another overcast day with a high chance of rain. Manage to touch base with Mar (part of the Luca/ Asian / Angie crew from Cancun, really nice looking Columbian girl, probably mid thirties, dark hair, dark eyes, dark everything), so we hit the same beach as her hoping to link up.

It’s kind of a bitch to get out there, and we definitely get fleeced by the cab driver, but we roll up, and it turns out Tulum’s beaches are even more ridiculously beautiful than the Cancun ones. Sand is so white it could belong to the KKK, water a beautiful clear shade of blue… but the weather is shit, and the clouds are starting to roll in.

We manage to avoid paying to get onto the beach, by walking through a sit-down bar (cheap Jeffy strikes again!) where we have a laydown pool seat type thing, and an umbrella. The umbrella is clutch, because as we settle in, the sky just fucking opens up on us like Jesus is crying for our sins.

Encanto Cantina was our first taste of the jungle, with the restaurant bursting with big green ferns and Mayan / Jaguar, themed; our second taste is realizing why the rainforest is named as such. We still make our way down to the water, and I manage to dig out Mar from a nearby bar to join us for a drink, but it’s a bit of a lost cause with the weather just going to shit. Spoiler, it ends up raining for the next three days.

We get back to the hostel in the PM, after trying to stick it out at the beach for a couple of hours. Jeff is fairly tuckered out, but we end up sitting down in the hostel during happy hour, and slam a few drinks back.

The barmaids are all just absolute Argentinian beauties. The girls in Tulum are some of the hottest, bougiest girls we’ve seen in our lives. Everyone is here to travel and escape Covid lockdowns, Jeff and I are miles out of our league, and maybe it shows a little. Honestly, even the dudes out here are studs; it’s like all the attractive people in the world decided to congregate in one place. Probably to snap shots for their Instagram’s.

There are supposed to be drinking games at 9pm, so we stick it out, and it’s kind of like the Monkey in that we’re just chilling and doing our own thing, until this ginger surfer dude from California, John, makes an intro.

He’s managed to snag himself a Columbian girl, and they’ve been here longer than us, so we shoot the shit over drinks about what’s fun in the area. Pick up a couple of random friends, including this black dude who just can’t wipe a huge smile off his face, obviously having the time of his life. I want what he’s having.

Barmaid comes over with a bottle of tequila and is just pouring it down our throats. We don’t realize it, but this means we’re obligated to play the first drinking game, which is an adult version of musical chairs. We’re recruited into the game with no mercy. I have girls on both sides of me so I let my guard down, and I’m one of the first two people eliminated. Didn’t even fucking sign up to play, and I find out that when you lose, you’re spinning the wheel of death.

Swap clothes, strip on the bar, chug a beer in ten seconds, take a shot; honestly, everything would have been fine. But my wheel lands on “Blow Job / Boob Shot”. I have to pick a girl who’s playing, to take a shot from a glass with my mouth from between her tits.

Which would be awesome in about an hour, but we have a bunch of sober tourists in the rain, who have all been sullenly dragged in to play a game of musical chairs, and it’s looking roughhhh. The barmaids have all joined into the game, so I pick the cute Argentinian that I swapped a few words with thinking it would be a safe bet, since fuck, they forced us to play the game in the first place.

She ends up making a big deal out of it, says she has no tits, and throws on a covid mask for good measure. I’d be happy to take five shots just to avoid the awkwardness. Jesus, I didn’t ask for this, you guys basically forced me to do it, show some enthusiasm for your own game.

Wasn’t going to ask anyone else after all the complaining she did, but she knows she has to for the sake of the game, and eventually we get the titty shot over with. I sit on the sidelines for a bit watching, then end up going back to the room for a few minutes just to reset.

Was a little frustrated with the fact she basically forced me to play, and then wasn’t happy with me picking her… was more then fine sitting in my chair having a couple brews to get warmed up first. She had asked if I wanted to pick another girl (aka a tourist) and I flat out told her that if she shot me down as a barmaid there was no way in hell another girl was going to be ok with it. Definitely fired me up a bit, not to mention donning the mask for the titty shot like I came straight from Wuhan… Jesus.

Managed to avoid having that spoiling my night, returned to the bar after a room beerski and the game has disintegrated. Ginger Johnny was ready to hit the town with a ragtag crew, and I should also mention that Yuri, this tall Ukranian-American homie that I’d seen at the monkey in Tulum, but not really interacted with, was squadded up with us and ready to fucking go.

Jeff was bagged and retired back to the room, so I was once again with a bunch of new friends, Tulum edition. John’s girl and her friend had a party in mind, so we set off into the town for my first proper Tulum experience.

One of our first stops was this fucking super sketchy bar/club. It was basically locked into a metal fence and the “dance floor” was gravel. Literally gravel. All of us alternating between buying rounds of shots, we were waiting for the girls to go find this house party that never materialized. They came back for us, and we ended up going to another bar on the street. A great fucking bar, and I say that because that’s where I met Mariangel.

Man I was fucking drunk. We basically did a Tulum pub crawl, 4 dudes, two girls, and ended up at this open bar on the street corner, no idea what it was called. Low lights in the interior of the dingy tavern, two roads just full of people, no cars. Downtown Tulum hot spot.

Blackie is grinning and telling us about this massively degenerate club, named Sports Bar, right across the street. It’s clearly not a sport’s bar, but we will get to that later. We’re getting wasted and talking to John’s pimp-daddy hat wearing Mexican homie, pink feathers and all. God damn, what a hat. To top it off, there are a couple of super cute girls just next to us at the bar, and as I’m finally properly lubricated from the day’s drinking, I mosey over and strike up a convo.

The girls are gorgeous and from Costa Rica. Some combination of bleached blonde and natural brunette hair, Maria really is a fucking angel, but somehow my easy going nature and sense of humor carry the conversation long enough for magic to happen.

Apparently in Costa everything is in lockdown as well, and everyone is just trying to escape to enjoy basic freedom. She admits she felt some butterflies seeing me, and thinks I’m really cute. I avoid fumbling, and the chat leads into some kissing; hey, fuck, this is the Mexico I was promised!

The crew gets scattered at some point; the girls are trying to get back home, so I pull some Insta’s before their departure. I really need to get a better name for Blackie, but he’s rolling face, pupils just filling his eyeballs right up, and he’s ready to send Sport’s Bar round 12 or something where his last 12 brain cells can finally end their suffering. We wish the brave soldier luck, and all of a sudden, Yuri and I find ourselves alone for a final nightcap.

Have a good chat with the lad, and we roll back towards the hostel. We find ourselves a couple of bags of trouble back on the strip, and I was going to bring him back for a nightcap at Jeff and my place, but the nightman makes it weird with some homosexual insinuations, and we opt to skip the nightcap and nose beers.

Yuri retires back to his crib with plans to go even harder the next day, and filled with boundless energy from a completely unknown source, I compound it with another… interesting decision and some company before passing out myself. Fun times.

Day 7:

Deanna and Ashley are finally inbound from Cancun, ready to tear it up again after a bougie reset. What a fucking hangover. I think I got out of bed at like 1 pm, but hey, life could be worse. I met an absolute dime who likes me back, and we’re in Mexico escaping lockdown alongside some of my best friends in the world. Just living the dream!

I manage to get all my shit to the laundromat, and pay extra to have it finished same day. I can tell you hands down there’s nothing better than clean clothes when you’ve been travelling in filth for the past week.

I also set tentative dinner plans with Maria; ask if her friend likes Yuri, who put in some work the previous night with me, or would prefer to meet a new guy (had Jeff in mind); as a CR hustler her friend wanted me to bring both dudes to see who she liked best (not to mention, twice the wallets). Reminds me of a great meme, The Lion, The Witch, and The Audacity of That Bitch.

Link up with Deezy and Ashley around 5pm for some drinks after they check into their penthouse, but the girls are definitely a little worn out from the trip down. Jeffy has a connection in Tulum from the last time he was here, and makes plans to link up with them near the beach zone at a fancy restaurant called Jaguar. But the reso is for the 3 girls and Jeff, so we need to figure shit out.

Deanna and Ashley seemed keen to wine and dine it up, and I have CR girls on the line and Yuri’s Whats-App, so we make plans for everyone to link in the hostel and go out for dinner and dranks. Of course it doesn’t work like that.

By the time Yuri gets to the hostel bar, Deanna and Ashley are already headed home to “change” (spoiler: they bailed, cowards!). Jeff takes a solo taxi to his friends place, from where she will drive him to dinner later. But quitters aside, MY BOY! Yuri shows up, the CR ladies show up, and because the lovely girls are able to hablo espanol, we get a decent deal on the cab down to the beach zone.

The road into the beach zone for Tulum was not intended for this many people; I’m pretty sure no one knew Tulum existed five years ago. Now, it’s the spot where hipsters are no longer hip, and crowded with a flood of douchebag “influencers”.

Taxi ride in is an awful crawl, and we can’t even get the radio to work. I’m in the front seat looking back at Yuri and the girls trying to make convo, and it’s all a little forced. But there’s no real stress, I’m hanging with new, chill people, and good times are certainly ahead.

Jeff’s reso is for 8:30PM at Jaguar for four with no seats for us, and it’s really tempting to steal it from them. Hello, yes, my name is Jeff! Beautiful looking beachfront resto, and they give us the option of chilling in the bar for 45 minutes before seats opened up (we opted not to steal their reso), but we said fuck it, and took a trek down the road in hunt of another resto.

A little ways down the road we find a decent Vietnamese Mexican fusion resto just down the street. We decide to roll it out tapas style, and share four dishes and some cocktails. Tuna dish is on point. Turns out fish directly from the ocean is unreal. Curry and pad thai are pretty average, and Maria orders some kind of taco meat bowl, which I guess was ok. The spring rolls were fire though.

We had originally planned to meet up with Jeff and crew at Jaguar, but we quickly realize that the whole beach zone was going to be a quagmire of tourists getting stuck; the literal definition of a tourist trap.

Side note: Jeff had a little adventure of his own that night. He got stranded at a house where the girl he was making out with had her boyfriend come home unexpectedly, and spent the rest of the night with him. There was literally no way he could escape the house until the next day due to the traffic, it looks like our prediction was spot on.

Yuri and I chop the bills (I can’t exaggerate what a beauty / wing he was; Maria’s friend was being a sarcastic jerk with him for most of the night, but he stuck it out for me) and we pile back to the bar where we all first met on the street corner. A hula hoop chick is putting on a show, whipping blazing hoops around her, and we rock some shitty dance moves to the background music while seated in between pockets of chat.

Maria and Paz are grade school teachers from CR. I poke around with some fun banter about who the biggest shit disturbers in their classes are, and overall it’s a fun time.

Honestly, Maria is definitely a total sweetheart. Some nice kissing, sparks flying, and the girls bought a few rounds of drinks for us at the bar. I thought it was a classy way of showing us some appreciation for the dinner, which didn’t end up running us too bad. Sadly would be the last time seeing them, because they were bouncing back to Cancun the next day, and then CR.

Fuck eh, a little travel romance never hurt anyone. Probably could have tried harder to close, but in those situations it doesn’t really seem to matter much… just nice to meet someone cool, and share a special moment or two worth remembering like that. Maybe I’ll stop by CR on the way home… fucking travelling. You meet people, and then it’s an abrupt goodbye, but hey, you never know, might see some of these legends again one day.

Yuri and I slam a brewski back at the crib to close out the night and shoot the shit. The dude is a Ukranian animal from Seattle. He is bouncing on Sunday (Monday?), two days from this night basically. Tragic, the kid is a fackin beauty, but we make plans to rally my crew for a final degenerate send the next day, part ways, and call er a night.