Tulum is a mess. I’m just going to say it. If you’re looking for that pristine, quiet yoga retreat you saw on a 2014 Pinterest board, you’re about a decade too late. Now, it’s mostly construction noise, $20 green juices that taste like grass clippings, and ‘eco-chic’ hotels that charge you $800 a night to sleep in a room with no air conditioning and a ‘natural’ plumbing system that smells like a sewer. It’s a racket.

But I keep going back. I’ve stayed in 11 different spots over four trips since 2017, and I’ve wasted enough money to probably buy a small car. I even tracked my sleep quality on my last trip using an Oura ring—I averaged a 58 ‘sleep score’ at a famous beach club hotel because the bass from the DJ booth didn’t stop until 4 AM. That’s not a vacation; it’s a hostage situation. Anyway, if you’re determined to go (and you probably are, because the light there really is something else), you need to be smart about where you put your head down.

That time I paid $700 to sleep in a literal bird’s nest

In 2019, I fell for the hype. I booked a stay at one of those places that looks like a giant wicker basket woven into the jungle canopy. You know the one. It looks incredible in photos. In reality? I dropped my iPhone through a gap in the floorboards within twenty minutes of checking in. It fell fifteen feet into a thicket of tropical brush that was apparently home to a very territorial iguana. I spent two hours and $50 bribing a maintenance guy to help me get it back. The room had no mirrors, no electricity for my hair dryer (which, fine, I’m in the jungle, but for $700?), and the humidity was so thick I felt like I was breathing through a wet towel. I woke up at 3 AM covered in a fine mist of sweat and regret.

I learned my lesson: aesthetics are a trap. The Tulum beach road is like a high-speed game of Tetris played with overpriced SUVs and people in linen, and if you stay right in the thick of it, you’re going to pay a premium for the privilege of being miserable. The service at these high-end spots is—well, it’s not that it’s bad, it’s just that they clearly prioritize people with more Instagram followers than me. If you don’t look like a swimsuit model, expect to wait 40 minutes for your check.

Where to stay if you actually want to sleep

If you want to actually enjoy yourself, you have to choose between the beach and the town (the Pueblo). Most people think they want the beach, but they’re wrong. I might be wrong about this, but I think the Pueblo is actually the better move for 90% of people. It’s cheaper, the food is ten times better, and you don’t feel like you’re trapped in a luxury theme park.

Holistika is my go-to in the Pueblo. It’s tucked away in the forest at the edge of town. It’s quiet. Like, actually quiet. I tracked the noise levels there on a Tuesday night and it peaked at 32 decibels—basically just the sound of crickets. Compare that to the 85 decibels I recorded at a beach-front ‘sanctuary’ near the party zone. Holistika has this massive art walk in the woods and the rooms are simple but clean. Plus, you’re close to Burrito Amor, which is the only place in town that makes a burrito worth writing home about. Get the ribeye one. Trust me.

The beach zone is for people who want to be seen; the Pueblo is for people who want to eat well and sleep.

If you absolutely must stay on the beach—because let’s face it, the turquoise water is the whole point—stay at Habitas. It’s the only place that gets the ‘eco’ thing right without it being a gimmick. They use these high-end canvas tents on raised platforms. It feels like luxury camping, but you actually have a proper shower and the AC works well enough that you won’t melt. Their beach club is also one of the few that doesn’t blast EDM at 11 AM. It’s civilized. It’s expensive, sure, but at least you don’t feel like you’re being scammed by a ‘shaman’ who just learned how to use a singing bowl three weeks ago.

A very biased list of places I will never set foot in again

I’m going to be unfair here. I refuse to ever stay at Papaya Playa Project again. I don’t care how famous their full moon parties are. The last time I was there, the front desk staff treated me like I was an inconvenience for wanting to check into my room at 4 PM (an hour after check-in time). The room itself felt damp, and for the price they charge, the ‘rustic’ vibe felt more like ‘neglected.’ I know people love it, and they’ll probably tell me I just had a bad night, but first impressions stick. I’m a grudge-holder.

I also have a weirdly specific hatred for any hotel that charges more than $10 for a bottle of water. I stayed at a place—I won’t name it because I don’t want a lawsuit—where they charged $14 for a 500ml glass bottle of ‘artisan’ water. I walked five minutes down the road to a corner store and bought a gallon for $2. It’s the principle of the thing. If a hotel is trying to squeeze you for water, they don’t respect you.

The part nobody talks about

Taxis. If you stay at a hotel on the beach, you are at the mercy of the taxi union. It is a literal mafia. A ten-minute ride can cost you $50 USD. I’m not exaggerating. I once paid $60 to go three miles because it was raining and the driver knew I had no other choice.

This is why I started staying at La Valise when I want to splurge. It’s at the very end of the beach road, right against the Sian Ka’an Biosphere. It’s private, it’s gorgeous, and because it’s at the end of the strip, it feels less like a circus. They have this one room where the bed literally slides out onto the balcony so you can sleep under the stars. It’s ridiculous. It’s over-the-top. But if you’re going to spend $1,000 a night, you might as well have a bed that moves. I’ve stayed there twice and both times I felt like a different person by the time I left. That’s the feeling people are actually looking for in Tulum, but 95% of the hotels there can’t actually deliver it.

Stayed there for 3 nights in 2022. Total cost was eye-watering, but I didn’t regret a single cent. That’s the metric.

So, what’s the verdict?

I used to think you had to stay at the most famous, most photographed spot to get the ‘real’ experience. I was completely wrong. The real experience is usually found in the places that don’t have a line of people waiting to take a photo in front of the entrance sign.

• Best for a splurge: La Valise. (Get the room with the sliding bed).
• Best for actual vibes: Habitas. (The sound ceremony is actually decent).
• Best for your wallet and soul: Holistika. (Stay in the Pueblo, rent a bike).
• Avoid: Anything that calls itself a ‘sanctuary’ but has a DJ booth larger than the lobby.

Tulum is changing, and not all of it is good. The new airport is open now, which makes it easier to get to, but it also means more people. More people means more ‘eco-chic’ hotels that are really just concrete boxes with some bamboo glued to the front. Don’t be the person who pays $800 for a bamboo-covered concrete box.

I honestly don’t know if I’ll go back next year. Every time I leave, I say I’m done with the prices and the crowds. But then I see a photo of that jungle light at 5 PM, or I remember the taste of a passionfruit mezcalita at Arca, and I start looking at flights again. It’s a toxic relationship. I’m just trying to make sure you don’t get hurt as bad as I did.

Just check the AC situation before you book. Seriously.