Tonight, I dream about going back to Tulum.
I want to take my two little monkeys with me and jet off to the Mexican paradise.
In Tulum, the sand is white, the water is turquoise and the sun shines (almost) year round.
In Tulum, we nap in hammocks, we try kite-surfing, we enjoy the beach, we say hello to the turtles, dive in cenotes and, most of all, we take our time.
In Tulum, there’s not a single building but small charming hotels on the sand. Restaurants are candlelit and swings replace bar stools.
I want to book (again) a bungalow at Coco Tulum. The number 37, facing the sea. A super simple cabin with a thatched roof, a big bed for my mister and I, a bunk bed for the little rascals, cream curtains moving with the wind and the waves sound…
I want to spend 10 days in this gypsy village, do yoga when I want it, eat banana pancakes for breakfast, drink kale smoothies in mason jars, eat fresh pasta at dinner, bare-foot at the Posada Margarita and count the shooting stars on my small terrace.
When are we going back?…