Paradoxically, the party town of Playa del Carmen was the least social of my stops so far. In other places I bonded easily with multiple people who I genuinely enjoyed getting to know. In Playa, I had only one such experience with another young American woman just returning from two years teaching and traveling in Asia. She too was not feeling at home at the hostel filled with nineteen-year-olds wearing six-inch platform wedges; we girl talked and considered each other a “breath of fresh air” in an otherwise funky smelling place (literally).

After she departed, I didn’t bond with anyone else. No one was really hanging out; they were busy with their posse or checking their iPhone or sleeping or getting drunk. But with me feeling under the weather with a cough and possible ear infection, socialization through drinking myself stupid didn’t sound appetizing. I guess we didn’t have much in common this time around. Cutting out a day earlier than planned.

However this sounds, I actually did not dislike Playa. I was empathetically happy from all of the good vibes everyone else had; it’s a great place to people watch. But I wasn’t on honeymoon, or a cruise, or spring break. It just wasn’t the right place for me to be then.