Staying at a mega-resort located in a hot place like Cancun is like being at a mall in America but everyone wears fewer clothes. Like the mall, people trudge slowly and talk loudly. At a resort, our national struggle with obesity is accentuated during bathing suit season, which makes walking behind a trudger more painful. To escape this scene means going “off resort,” which few loud, overweight people do. I have no hard proof of this overstatement of mine, only my own anecdotal evidence; it seemed every time we went off resort–Isla Mujeres, Tulum, and Xel-Ha–we suddenly found ourselves among the more physically active, curious and less loud.

As I mentioned earlier, I wanted to stay at Isla Mujeres and hide among the artists and fishermen, but the package prices at Dreams Cancun were too good. For under $3,800, three people could fly there, stay five nights, and eat until they could no longer respectfully wear the bathing suit they brought for the trip. Kids could paint ceramics on the beach while parents sat in swings strung around a bar and sipped margaritas and “Carnivales.” The cherry on this sundae was that this resort had dolphins. We’ve stayed at many hotels around the world; never before have we stepped out of bed, walked out on to a balcony, and looked down to see dolphins jumping and playing directly below. This is indeed a great way to start the day. The resort offers a swim with the dolphins, which is a separate expense handled by another company. If you’re traveling with kids and can afford this luxury, it’s amazing–truly the eye-opening, wonderous, exhiliarting experience you hoped it would be.

A disadvantage to purchasing all-inclusive, packaged deals is that everything is…well…all there…and packaged…ready for immediate consumption. Resorts like Dreams strip decisions down to “chicken or beef?” or “hot tub or pool?” leaving little else to fret about. And that’s their goal–remove the anxiety of making all the other decisions you deal with day to day so that the decision-making is as distilled as fine tequila. There’s tremendous appeal to this–who wouldn’t want to stare into the Caribbean sipping iced liquor only worrying about which of the resort’s many restaurants you’ll try that night? Or whether you want a massage or a facial? People travel far and pay dearly to be pampered in this way.

But I’ll admit after about three hours of being a puddle on the beach, I missed the challenges of making my own decisions. This hadn’t been true the last time we stayed at a resort, which was in Montego Bay, Jamaica, in 2007. Coyaba was smaller, more intimate and I guess at the time I wasn’t seeking challenges of any kind. In Cancun, I didn’t have to decide if I wanted another margarita–I was about four or five sips into my first margarita of the day when Domingo (or was it Javier?) conducted his rounds on the beach and offered me a second. Perhaps he saw that my left hand was empty and needed something to do. I said “No, gracias,” and he eventually found some takers a few lounge chairs down and was able to lighten the load on his tray.

I don’t mean to bite that hand that serves me cool, refreshing cocktails. Sometimes during other trips, when you’re so exhausted you feel your bones crack from fatigue, when you can’t find a bottle of water or a ubiquitous red and white can of Coke to keep you going (overseas, Coke to me is always the sign that America is never far away), you wish for all that resort fluff, for someone to approach without judgment and offer to fulfill a need you didn’t know you had. What I learned from this trip is that escape and discovery are not found in the places I expected; I thought escape was off the beaten path, but it is not. Off the beaten path is about discovery–such as wandering into a sculpture garden at Isla Mujeres and spying an iguana scrambling across an ancient temple in Tulum. I wasn’t looking to leave anything behind, but to find something new. It’s the beaten path that is the escape–an escape from decisions big and small that gnaw at you. The problem is, to discover means to be on your own, which can be fun and tiring. To escape means you’re with everyone else.

Scenes from Dreams:

Chichen Itza is one of the Seven Wonders of the World and one of Mexico’s biggest tourist attracations. It’s also a 2 1/2-hour bus ride from Cancun and in the center of a hot, dry Yucatan Penisula. Closer to Cancun is Tulum, less-traveled Mayan ruins that stand on a cliff overlooking a cool, pristine swath of white, sandy beach. Tulum has a startling, unexpected beauty to it with architecture similar to Chichen Itza. Pass the actors dressed as Mayan warriors loitering around the Haagen Daaz ice cream stand and keep going–soon you’ll step back in time.

Tulum is said to have been first mentioned during a Spanish expedition in 1518. Decades later, the Mayans would succumb to European diseases and their city on the cliff would begin to crumble. Still standing are three major structures: El Castillo, the Temple of the Frescoes, and the Temple of the Descending God, which you’re allowed to view from a short distance. You can’t climb or touch the ruins even though there are iguanas everywhere doing just that. You can swim at the beach below the cliff, and people were. There’s no escaping the sun there; a number of people jumped in with their clothes on.

Tulum was a lovely surprise–worth the money and the 90-minute, relatively smooth, air-conditioned bus ride. After so many centuries, these ruins still stand despite brutal heat and noisy tourists. A hat is a must, for the sun beats down on this pre-Colonial city. It’s no wonder the Mayans were always looking up, worshipping the skies. Still, as we walked past those stone buildings and heard the surf pounding below, I wondered what it was like to live in ancient times, to be so strongly ruled by the cycles of the Earth, a rising sun, a quieting moon, the moods of the Caribbean below. Modern life is very much removed from anything cyclical, as we email vacation photos taken on our cell phones to friends and family who are unable to sleep in their own countries and continents because they, too, are wired and have forgotten how to be still. Even with hundreds of tourists drifting about speaking dozens of languages, Tulum is a special place to take in rhythmic stillness–as so many others did years and years ago.

Think Mexico and you think pinatas, tacos, and beaches that disappear into the horizon. You don’t think of funky architecture or modern art. Nor would you think those things would be found on Isla Mujeres.

As I mentioned before, Isla Mujeres is a quiet place where people can be alone with their thoughts and pursue their creative dreams. This manifests in many ways, from the quirky houses facing the Caribbean to the Sculpture Garden on Punta Sur, the southern tip of the island. Admission to the Sculpture Park is $3 USD per person and completely worth it. The Sculpture Garden is a winding path taking you out to sea through a labyrinth of modern works, pieces of the industrial world jutting against the Yucatan Penisula’s natural beauty. The artists who created these objects come from all over the world, many from Central and South America, and a few from the United States. Sharp red metal objects pierce the sky. A stone figure stares. And at the end, the crumbling remains of an ancient Mayan ruin while the sea crashes against the cliff below–a reminder that these lands have seen artists come and go.

If you go to Punta Sur by golf cart, as we did, you will likely pass the Seashell House (also known as the Conch Shell House), another unique art form that pierces the skyline with its curvy, pointed roof. We passed it and unfortunately I didn’t capture any decent pictures. We were also crunched for time and didn’t know we could stop by and look around. The Seashell House can be rented out, and it seems visitors are welcome. In fact, there are a number of things I had wanted to do at Isla Mujeres and didn’t. I was thankful we stumbled upon the Sculpture Garden by accident, but I also would have loved to have toured the Seashell House as well as some other unusual art forms–the tombs at the municipal cemetery, another hot spot we passed and didn’t have time to savor. This cemetery is remarkably vibrant. Walk through this cemetery and you’re sure to believe it’s better on the other side.