Celestial Celestún
I love big cities: Bangkok, Berlin, Tokyo, my adopted hometown of New York. The energy and anonymity swallow me up and I go willingly. But I also love tiny towns. Some of my favorite travel experiences have been in places like Kratie, a sleepy river town in eastern Cambodia; Banyuwangi, which overlooks Bali but is light years apart in tourism development, and Solvorn, whose sweeping fjord views don’t encompass any of the trains full of tourists traipsing over other parts of Norway. After our recent trip to Yucatán, I’m so pleased to add the fishing village of Celestún to my list of small towns that have enchanted me on my travels.
Celestún lies on the Gulf Coast of the Yucatán peninsula. It’s not the glittering Caribbean and there aren’t any resorts. It is, however, a nesting ground for the North American flamingo, and I loved the idea of seeing those funky pink freaks of nature in the wild. My research on Celestún itself, though, didn’t seem too promising. Most sources recommended a day trip from Mérida, or maybe an overnight trip. Since it would be our only beach time in Yucatán, I opted for two nights. I knew the Gulf wouldn’t be as spectacular as the Caribbean and that there was no restaurant scene to speak of, but how bad could a couple nights with a beach and some flamingos be?
As we approached Celestún, I began to doubt my choice. What if the town really was a dump? Should we have opted for another beach town, or another night in colorful, colonial Mérida?
Turns out? I could have easily spent a week in this postage stamp-sized place.
Celestún isn’t fancy. But a handful of small hotels line the beach, where you can get a basic but clean room steps away from the sand for around $35 USD a night.
The ocean isn’t crystal clear, but the beach is trash-free, the water is shallow and calm (perfect for waders like myself), and boasts, bar none, the best shelling I’ve ever seen.
The food isn’t Michelin-starred, but you can enjoy fresh fish, grilled ceviche, and cold beers while watching the sunset, and pick up a marquesita (a crispy waffle crepe with sweet fillings) for dessert from the beach vendors on your way home.
As for those flamingos? You can catch a motorboat to see them, but if you’re willing to wake up early, I can highly recommend the canoe tour with José of Mangroves of Dzinitun. José and his family have embarked on a reforesting project to restore the mangroves in the area and they run eco-friendly canoe and kayak tours. We woke up before the crack of dawn and José paddled us around the mangroves, pointing out crocodiles, raccoons, and tons of unique birds with a flashlight and binoculars.
As we emerged with the sun from the mangrove forest into the mouth of the river, flamingos flew over our head. Although José doesn’t speak much English and we don’t speak any Spanish, you don’t need Google Translate to interpret that kind of experience. Later, we drove into the biosphere reserve, crouching down while observing a flock of flamingos feeding in the shallow water. José’s tour was definitely one of the most spectacular animal experiences I’ve enjoyed on my travels, and you can embark on it feeling confident that you are making a minimal impact on the local wildlife.
Later that morning, T and I enjoyed coffee, chaya and piña juice, and fresh baked bread with papaya jam as we gazed out at pelicans grazing the surface of the Gulf. Celestun might be a little rough around the edges and it definitely isn’t for everyone. But if you’re interested in wild creatures, a chill vibe, and an uncrowded, beautiful beach, get on down to Celestún before the secret gets out.
If you go:
