Another very lengthy day (15 hours!) of travel took us over the border between Belize and Mexico, and dropped us straight into Tulum, Mexico. Whumph. And just like that, I was torn away from Belize, and thrown back into land of tacos and sombreros. Which, if it has to be done, Tulum is probably one of the least painful ways to go about it. Whilst arriving as the sun set and the mosquitoes started to gnaw on any limbs which remained uncovered, Tulum was quite clearly pretty darn stunning. The sun was setting over a beach which was kilometres long swathes of the finest white sands, which coated our toes like talcum powder. Even Belize didn't have sands like this.... The next day was exceptionally lazy as we recovered from our travels and settled back into the Mexican way of things (manana, manana...) but we eventually got ourselves together enough to ride bikes out to the beach, located ten kilometres from the town itself beneath stunning oceanside Mayan ruins. We alternated between toasting ourselves in the scorching Caribbean sun and cooling off with a dip in the, by now, customary bright blue seas. I could get used to this. In a phonebooth which uncomfortably resembled a mini sauna, I tried to alter my oneworld ticket for the date I wished to find out. I was unsuccessful, and told I would have to stay in Mexico a week longer than I had planned. I emerged from the phonebooth literally dripping and with the knowledge that I was going to have to entertain myself, on an absolute minimal end-of-trip budget, for over a week on my own in Mexico. Nevermind, I said to myself, I'll go on up to Playa del Carmen and have some more beach time, chat to the locals and work on my Spanish (which, after four weeks travelling with non-Spanish speakers, and plenty of translation practice, is now the best it's ever been). But deep down I knew that an unplanned week of solitude would likely drive me nuts. And that was even before I had clapped eyes on Playa del Carmen...