while the catalyst for mark's birthday trip to tulum was dinner at a certain restaurant, his mind was made up after he discovered the hotel be tulum. small and decadent (as much as a hotel that kindly asks you not flush the toilet paper can be), it's certainly in a caliber of lodging much higher than i'm accustomed to. but what the hell, the man only turns 30 once, right?
after following a wooden path in the sand from the open-air lobby to our room, i gasped. our own little pool, that i could jump into from the front door if i wanted to. and hammocks! (i'm a sucker for hammocks.) an outdoor shower, and a front patio setup that might as well have been an anthropologie-at-the-beach catalog spread. i feel certain i was clapping at this point, and we hadn't even stepped inside the room yet. the photos we took of our room don't do it justice; go to their website! but i ask you, how much time could we really spend inside the room, when a few more steps down the sandy path led us to the beach. this crazy beautiful beach with all sorts of lounging options strewn artfully across the sand. beds, recliners, an abandoned canoe filled with plush pillows: the choice is yours, you lucky hotel guest. the lovely staff entertained our broken spanish and then offered, in perfect english, to bring us trays of food, and any drink our hearts desired (for the record i hate coconut water, that was mark's drink and i demanded a photo with it). it's possible i ordered papas fritas and a margarita one lazy afternoon, but i'll never say for sure. we sat all over that backyard of be tulum. coffee poolside, breakfast at the best palm tree-shaded table, fish tacos in bed. it was the sort of amazing experience that had me feeling i was living someone else's life. the now water-logged kennedy memoir i read on that beach was epically appropriate.
and to belabor the point, before heading out to mark's birthday dinner, i suggested a quick walk by that ocean i couldn't get enough of. as we passed by the table we'd had breakfast at, my eyes widened and my brain flurried in a, "is that? is it? i think it is. it is definitely him" spiral. richard freaking branson was enjoying a sunset cocktail in the same chair mark enjoyed his cafe con leche a few hours earlier. come on.
we've already written be tulum an electronic love note, and i really really hope we go back soon.