Learning to Live, Work, and Wander in Tulum

I didn’t expect a moment of distraction on a Zoom call to change my life, but on my second day in Tulum, it did. I was working from the tiny desk of a swim-up condo in Aldea Zama, half listening to a meeting, when I glanced outside and saw my friend and partner floating in the pool, glistening in the early afternoon sun. They were laughing about something I couldn’t hear. My next meeting was in an hour. I slammed my laptop shut, rolled straight into the water for forty-five stolen minutes, and returned to work with wet hair and a startling thought: Why don’t we live like this more often?

We’d booked our COVID vaccine appointments and flights to Tulum in the same 24 hours – an impulsive chain reaction fueled by months of TikTok content and a FaceTime call with a friend who pushed us over the edge by joining in on the plan.

I expected a fun escape, maybe a few good tacos, and fruit-themed pool floats. I did not expect the trip to make me want to rearrange my life so I could come back for months, not days.

Discovering a Livable Tulum

What surprised me most wasn’t the beaches or the cenotes or the food alone – it was how quickly Tulum felt like a place you could actually live. We were working remotely with a few days off, so we fell into a rhythm: morning calls, a midday taquería run, late dinners in Centro where you heard locals ending their day rather than tourists beginning their night.

Even then, it was impossible to ignore that the Hotel Zone and Aldea Zama felt like two different destinations. One was loud, curated, aggressively expensive – optimized for content creation. The other was quiet, walkable, tucked under dense trees and half-finished construction sites, dotted with cafés where people didn’t care whether you were working or wandering.

I still didn’t know how to swim, but being surrounded by water made me want to learn.

On days off, we took a tour through Sian Ka’an, floating in impossibly clear water. We drove without a destination to find cenotes that weren’t on TikTok, and snorkel guides in Akumal who took us to see turtles and stingrays.

One afternoon we stopped at a tiny taquería because we spotted a litter of puppies in the shade. At the time, it felt like a sweet detour; in retrospect, it foreshadowed Misu, our Mexican-mixed pup who would eventually make Tulum part of her rhythm too.

And then there were the accidental discoveries — the places that made Tulum feel less like a destination and more like a city.

A Few Early Spots That Made Tulum Feel Like Home

By the time we flew home, two things were clear: I needed to learn how to swim, and I needed to find a way to come back for longer – not as a visitor, but as someone slipping into Tulum’s everyday life.

Tulum Rearranging My Life

Back in New York, the first thing I did was sign up for swimming lessons. It felt symbolic – like learning a skill I’d need to integrate Tulum in my life. The second shift was slower but louder: the realization that if I wanted more time in Tulum, I needed to build a life that enabled it.

Like petrichor – the smell of first rain for some – the weather from the day we booked our 2021 trip stayed with me: early signs of spring, slightly warm and hopeful, still edged with chill air. Now, when I’m walking around New York and the weather conjures up these conditions, I feel a sharp, familiar sensation: it’s Tulum time.

That feeling grew stronger as my job at Etsy started phasing people back into the office, meanwhile I was craving flexibility instead of fluorescent lights. When a remote role at Shopify appeared, complete with a Destination90 program allowing employees to work from anywhere for 90 days with no tax implications, I knew the universe was done with subtle hints. Around then, we had foster-failed and adopted a Tex-Mex chihuahua. The idea of bringing Misu to Tulum was a story writing itself.

We planned the 90-day stay for June 2023. A month before departure, I was laid off. My “working sabbatical” would simply become a sabbatical – we decided to go anyway.

First Time Living in Tulum

Flying to Cancun with Misu was surprisingly seamless for a dog who had likely never flown. TSA cheered her on at JFK as she passed leash-less through security, JetBlue attendants snuck in pets, and in Cancun she received a tiny pat-down and a quick health certificate review before trotting through customs like she owned the terminal. We picked up the rental car, drove down the familiar highway, and settled into our long-term stay at Macondo Tulum – a quiet spot deeper in Aldea Zama with the pool just steps from the living room.

We chose a two-bedroom, partly because low-season rates made it possible, but mostly because we wanted people to visit and experience the slower version of Tulum we’d fallen for. Friends came and went, turning our stay into a rotating cast of dinners, scooter rides and late-night conversations, making it feel even more like home.

With no full-time job anchoring my hours, I eased into my days. Mornings started with my newly acquired swimming skills put to use, followed by walks with Misu to a nearby coffee shop. I found a yoga studio, a nail salon, and a groomer who treated Misu like a queen.

We built small rituals: ordering in Burrito Amor on lazy evenings, sitting outside while storms soaked the courtyard; joining neighbors who jumped into the pool during downpours; returning to our go-to cenote at 3 p.m., when tourist crowds dipped and the water felt like a private bath carved into the jungle.

What surprised me most was how natural everything felt — not forced “digital nomad vibes,” but a life we’d quietly slipped into.

Our Busier Days Looked Something Like This

8 – 11 am

• A 30-45 minute swim
• Morning walk with Misu in Zama to Bistro Alegria
• Spend a few hours at Alegria with coffee and chilaquiles, finding freelance design gigs on Slack groups

1 – 3 pm

• Drive to Honorio, Tropi, or Antojitos y Chiapaneca for a quick lunch and back to work

Lighter Afternoon Options

• Cenote around 3pm
• Head over to Pancho Villa for beers and coco-locos at sunset
• Happy hour Mezcalitas at Safari Taco

Evenings

• Dinner in Centro at one of our favorite spots, walking around the street market for marquesitas or churros

Tulum’s Quickly Becoming Another Home

As an immigrant, “home” has always been a slippery concept. I worked to build a life that let me return to India twice a year, and now Tulum joined that rotation.

Many turns later, I launched my design studio — Pearl Street Design — this August. It felt like the culmination of everything that first trip awakened: flexibility, autonomy, and the belief that work should expand your life. So a month later, I returned to Tulum.

Our third stay felt like stepping into a story we’d been writing for years. The same friend from our first trip joined for the whole month, this time with her fiancé, who proposed on a bridge at the surreal blue Cenote Santa Cruz. Witnessing such a big moment in a place that had shaped our own lives made Tulum feel like a backdrop for everyone’s beginnings, not just ours.

We stayed at Macondo again, one unit over from before – a detail that mildly devastated Misu. For a week, she kept trotting to the old sliding doors from the pool, tail wagging with absolute confidence. Watching her map her own memory onto this place made something clear: Tulum wasn’t a trip anymore. It was familiar terrain.

Work found its rhythm too. We split our days between the apartment and Digital Jungle, a quiet, plant-filled co-working space that felt like the heartbeat of nomad life. Aury greeted everyone by name, and Rosa’s chilaquiles were reason enough to arrive before the heat set in. Most afternoons ended at Italdo, where I debated which pastry should accompany my oat cappuccino. We’d skip out early for an adventure, and on busier days, we’d head to Centro or a restaurant in Aldea Zama for dinner. We picked up passes to Star Fit Gym, where humidity turned every workout into CrossFit, but the energy was addictive.

Cenotes and Activities Worth Your Time

Our days settled into something I hadn’t expected: a rhythm that felt less like travel and more like continuity. A quiet confirmation that I had built a life that allowed me to return — and that Tulum, in its own way, expected us back.

Great Dinner Restaurants in Centro

Author bio: Nishtha is a New York–based product designer, founder of Pearl Street Design, and remote worker who splits her time between cities, enjoys eating at street stands and Michelin starred restaurants alike, and writing about food & travel. Find her at nishthadalal.com.