Tulum is a rare and successful modern experiment in both consciousness and sophistication. A tiny, idyllic eight-mile strip strip of sand on Mexico's Yucatán Peninsula, tucked between a tropical jungle, Mayan ruins and the Sian Ka'an Biosphere Reserve - it's a heady vortex.
Here, social mores have been turned upside down, comfortably rearranged with bare feet and a smile, and plumped up for boho consumption. It brings to mind the early days of Bali and Goa, the days before mass tourism diluted the utopian dream.
A day in Tulum might start at sunrise with a quantum meditation session and close in the intense heat of a temazcal sweat lodge, setting intentions by burning copal incense and chanting around white-hot volcanic rocks alongside a shaman. Green juice is preferred to alcohol. Even the street signs lining the pocked, narrow beach road read like mantras for a new cosmic vacation order: "You're Exactly Where You Need to Be" and "Stay Present." (The signs are the work of artist Olivia Steele who put them all over town without official permission - they were, however, blessed by her healer.)
Tulum's experiment in living has trickled out into the watching world at a time when we are all craving deeper connection with ourselves and nature. Now, seekers (sun, spiritual and otherwise) pilgrimage to this beach settlement in droves to join this avant-garde template for a new bohemian lifestyle that prioritises community, organic cuisine and healing. Finally, somewhere to stretch out and call home for the winter. It's a gypset dream come true.