As a place for uncharted outdoor exploration, the oceanfront of Mexico’s Yucatán Peninsula ranks somewhere between, say, Disney World and Waikiki.
Among the most rapidly developing spots on earth, this former bastion of ancient Mayan civilization rapidly is being bulldozed into an elongated resort strip whose mysteries begin and end at the nearest tiki bar.
The Mayan Riviera is hot stuff these days, and we’re not just talking about Caribbean breezes to warm the blood from its congealed state from Colorado winter. From the hand-to-hand luggage combat at the Cancún airport to Mel Gibson’s movie paean to the Mayan warrior caste, a lot of gringo eyes have taken note of the continent’s fastest-growing vacation destination.
For Americans looking for a relatively inexpensive change in latitude and attitude, this has become the easy place to be. Three airlines shuttle sun-seekers from Denver to Cancún each day, either to the hotel cluster outside town or the row of contained mini-resorts spreading rapidly to the south.
From the hustle at Playa del Carmen, which barely existed short years ago, to the bustle around the archaeological marvels at Tulum, Mexico’s tourism directors have anointed the Riviera as the place to be.
One hears rumors of a new international airport at Tulum, along with the reality of a four-
lane expressway extension crawling steadily south toward the state capital of Chetumal, 250 miles distant. What once was a desolate tangle of jungle and limestone is turning tourist faster than you can say “Apocalypto.”
This spike of attention extends down the coast to Ascension Bay, the fave rave of the saltwater flats fly set for its ample population of bonefish and permit. You’ll find lots of fish finning across the flats of Ascension. Trouble is, everyone you meet either has been there or at least claims to.
If you’re looking for something new to crow about, you’ll have to take a long boat ride and pitch a tent at the next bay south, Espiritu Santo.
Better still, drive farther down the peninsula to the place that looms as the next big discovery on the in-shore destination chart.
It’s a sleepy village called Xcalak, where a scattering of very small lodges include only two that cater to anglers. Behind a barrier reef a mile offshore and inside the limitless expanse of Chetumal Bay, you’ll find remarkable numbers of bonefish and permit, with snook and baby tarpon lurking in lagoons nearby.
You won’t be able to claim to be the first to fish here. But, hey, close enough.
Charlie Meyers can be reached at 303-954-1609 or cmeyers@denverpost.com.
Xcalak and Chetumal Bay
Getting there: By plane to Cancún, then south roughly six hours by rental car or chartered van to the village of Xcalak (say Ish-ka-lak).
Season: Bonefish best February-May, but available year-round. Tarpon best May-November. Permit best November-December. Heat and threat of tropical storms make summer and early autumn months less desirable.
Lodging: Tierra Maya Lodge, seven nights, six days fishing, $2,400 per person, double occupancy, tips and beverages not included. Apartado Postal 482, Zona Central, Chetumal, Quintana Roo, Mexico 77010, hoteltierramaya@yahoo.com; www.tierramaya.net.
Gear: 9-weight rods for permit or tarpon, 7-8-weight for bonefish; floating saltwater lines; large-arbor reels; 12- to 15-pound test tippets. Standard patterns for bonefish and permit; various tarpon standards in smaller sizes.
