beyondthesnowdotblog

I left Mérida and headed north toward Chelem, a tiny fishing village with a population of about 5,000 people. As the city thinned out behind me, the landscape slowly shifted—fewer buildings, more sky, and that wide, hazy light that always makes me feel like I’m really on the road again. By the time I got close to Chelem, everything felt a little quieter and slower, as if the whole place had taken a deep breath and decided to stay that way.

I got to my Airbnb and found out they had upgraded me to a one-bedroom apartment instead of the studio I’d requested. It’s quite spacious—actually, it’s bigger than my current apartment in Boucherville, which made me laugh a little as I walked from room to room with my tiny backpack. I love the color of the building; it’s sky blue, the kind of blue that makes you happy. Because of that, the whole place feels light and cheerful, like it’s permanently in a good mood. I have two balconies: one off my bedroom where I can sit and watch the people at the pool or the guests at the restaurant downstairs—The Bull Pen. They’re the owners of this Airbnb as well, so there’s a cozy, lived-in feeling around the place, with clinking dishes, low chatter, and the occasional burst of laughter drifting up. The other balcony is near the entrance door and has a view toward the ocean; even from there, I can feel the salty air and hear the distant, steady sound of the waves if I just stop and listen for a moment.

I’ve already taken a walk on the street where I live. First impressions: there are a lot of restaurants—so many of them that it feels like the street is constantly trying to tempt you into a long, leisurely meal. Signs, lights, and open doorways all hint at different smells and flavors drifting into the warm air. I was on a quest for butter and had seen an OXXO store on my way in, so I headed in that direction, hoping they would have some, weaving past tables, parked scooters, and people chatting in front of little shops as the afternoon slowly melted into evening.

For some reason I don’t understand, butter is hard to find in Mexico. Most people use margarine, and when you do find butter, it’s usually unsalted. Costco has butter, but I’d have to buy five kilos—and it’s unsalted. The other option was Irish butter at an insane price, the kind of price that makes you sigh and put it back on the shelf very gently, as if you’ve just handled a rare antique. I continued my quest in Chelem, feeling slightly dramatic about it—as if I were on a noble mission for a basic dairy product. I finally found unsalted butter in a store that blew my mind. From the outside, it looked like an ordinary little storefront, but inside it carried everything you can imagine, stacked and tucked into every possible corner. And just like walking around Mérida, as you make your way through the store you have to stay alert: the items are piled high and don’t look particularly stable. One wrong move and you could easily trigger a small avalanche of canned goods.

I bought salt, butter, and eggs. In Mexico, eggs are not refrigerated, so they sit out neatly in their cartons, which still surprises me every time I see it, even though I know it’s perfectly normal here. Walking back with my little bag of supplies, I felt oddly triumphant, like I’d completed my first real “settling in” errand in Chelem.

I unpacked the little luggage I have and already prepared an order on Amazon. Unfortunately, there are things I can’t do without—like an electric water dispenser, of course. Right now, the one in the apartment is manual, so you need a lot of brute force to get water out, which turns every glass of water into a mini workout. I’ll just splurge and get the electric one so I can hydrate without feeling like I’m training for a competition. Little by little, as I sorted my things and clicked through my order, the apartment started to feel less like a temporary stop and more like a place I could actually live in for a while.

I’m also ordering a cast iron pan. The skillets here have seen better days, so I’m ordering new ones. I’ll be here for almost two months, so I’m getting a set of three pans for $23 CAD. It feels a bit indulgent to invest in cookware for a short stay, but I know I’ll use them, and there’s something comforting about knowing I’ll be able to cook simple meals the way I like them while I’m here.

I’m looking forward to my first official walk tomorrow morning. I’ll no longer be plaza-hopping—I just need to make sure I bring enough water for my walk. The sun is very hot here too, but the ocean breeze makes it much easier to move around, softening the heat and bringing that mix of salt and warmth that makes you want to keep going just a little farther. I can already picture wandering along the streets and toward the water, listening to the waves and letting Chelem slowly reveal itself, one quiet, sunny morning at a time.