Tulum, Mexico - Mexico's Virgin Caribbean Coast
by Reneé Huang

It poured our first two days in paradise. Hard.

The sea boiled, trees were whipped sideways by gale force winds and the thatched palapa roof on our beach hut was drummed silly by driving rain. Inside, dry and safe under our frothy mosquito net, we listened and felt Mother Nature's first big entrance of the year on the virgin coast of Mexico's Caribbean Coast.

During a week-long stay south of Cancun, we discovered the power of the elements along the creamy white sand beaches of Tulum. We encountered wind, rain, tempestuous storms that lit up the sky with lightening and turned the crystalline waters of the Caribbean Sea various shades of murky teal and dark aqua. It was Mother Nature in her rawest form.

We had chosen Tulum for its remote location. It is the last untamed stretch of Mexico's glorious Mayan Riviera, tucked an hour south of the high-rise hotels and throbbing clubs of Cancun along the modern highway past fast-growing Playa del Carmen and several large resort playgrounds that are in development.

Tulum the town is not far from the ancient beachside ruins of the same name that perch on cliffs overlooking the sea. While they aren't the biggest in the Mayan Riviera their pure energy attracts many spiritual seekers who revel in the unity of age-old tumble-down stone structures and powerful natural surroundings.

The ancient Mayan city of Cobá - perhaps the largest city in the Mayan world - that once housed as many as 50,000 people a millennium ago lies 30 miles to the west. These ruins house a perfectly preserved ball court, stunning pyramid and excellent pathways that marked what must have been the ancient world's first highways constructed by the Mayans for trade and political interaction some 1,300 years ago.

Such storms are rare here in southern Tulum, and this one left with a trickle in the middle of our second night. After three days of endless torment, the skies cleared.

The white beach in front of our hotel, the eco-friendly Cabanas Copal, was strewn with ripped up shreds of seaweed, and the palm frond roof to the dozen or so beachside palapa huts drooped a bit from moisture. But despite this, we found the landscape gorgeous and pure, all at once primitive and inspiring.

Jungle creatures emerged at the first signs of sun. Suddenly the jungle exploded with life: little lizards raced around moss-covered tree branches, blue-tinged crabs poked their pincers angrily in the air outside their sandy homes tunneled in the damp sand, and ancient scaled iguanas staked their claim on rocky outcroppings in front of our cabin. A solitary pelican and frigate bird glided continuously on the calm air in an intriguing graceful ballet.

We, too, crawled out of hiding to blink happily at the sun.

A nearby cenote was clouded with debris so we nixed our plan to snorkel and see the underwater life that inhabits these natural sink holes that are scattered throughout the region. Normally you can see an intriguing myriad of multicolored fish and aquatic life in these cenotes and reefs which stretch all the way from Cancun down to Belize. Several eco-attractions such as Xel-Ha and Xcaret (billed as the large aquarium theme parks in the world) provide tourists with opportunities to mingle with nature in a controlled setting.

But we were after more seclusion and less predictable encounters. Driving several miles south of Tulum along a dirt road on the fringes of Sian Ka'an bioreserve we happened upon an endless white sand beach and an ocean as smooth as a blue-green bath. Curious crabs patrolled the walkway down to the beach and popped out of the most ingenious of locations, such as the wood slates of our beach chair or wedged between the legs of our table.

We were content to wander the empty beach and take in the starkly stunning landscape. Blue horizon met the pale green ocean in a pleasing contrast of moody hues, juxtaposed dramatically and coolly by the carpet of white sand rolling out from beneath our feet. It was as if we were wandering through a soothing watercolor painting. We found a dilapidated shade constructed of palms with a hand painted sign reading "desert island" - and clearly no living soul for miles - as if signaling our exact sentiments.

That evening, we dined at ¡Que Fresco! restaurant in the candy-colored rustic hotel Zamas, which means "first ray of dawn" in the ancient Maya language. The restaurant serves up delicious Mexican fare and fresh seafood, lobster, wood-oven baked pizza and fresh margaritas that tasted like limes had sprouted from the glass.

The rest of our visit, I spent misty mornings in Cabana Copal's screened-in yoga hut, which lies amid the untamed jungle. Spicy gingerbread-scented incense mingled with warm air that tastes faintly of sea salt and carried the echoes of the ocean and tinkling wind chimes. Classes were led with excellent instruction from Maria Fernanda, who spent an entire hour-long class patiently correcting our posture in the "downward dog". She also performed soothing Mayan clay massages that infuse the body with natural minerals while drawing out toxins.

Intrigued by the ancient Mayan energy that resonated in this place, we agreed to a Mayan sign and corn reading by Alejandra, a 22-year-old with luminous brown eyes and a tangle of curly brown hair. She took our birth dates and consulted a chart of Mayan symbols to find my unique combination of elemental and astrological signs before declaring me a "white magnetic wind".

Later, Daniel Pool Pech, Cabana Copal's resident Mayan shaman, gave us individual healing massages in the quiet spa treatment area. I couldn't resist peeking as he murmured a haunting, song-like chant I didn't understand and passed his hands over my body as if sweeping away bad energy, eyes closed and head raised towards the heavens.

After a moment, he began the massage, pressing firmly on my limbs and later my stomach - which he called the "heart of the energy system" - while inquiring about my medical history and predicting certain incidences in my past with such accuracy it was like he was peering into a crystal ball.

I wasn't accustomed to chatting during a massage but Daniel's soothing voice and gentle probing questions made it seem natural. He later explained that his intuitive gifts came in dreams when he was young and began having repetitive visions of the internal workings of the human body. When he realized it was a higher power showing him his calling, he paid more attention to them, "studying" through his visions the skill of interpreting various human conditions.

"I can do 10 to 15 massages on a busy day," said Daniel in a Spanish that was tinged with faint accents of his native Maya tongue. "I don't tire because the energy I use is flowing from the universe through me into my patient."

And somehow, lying there in the steamy jungle as that sage shaman touched my soul while birds twittered and heady incense swirled around my head, I believed him.