Dear Holbox

Dear Isla Holbox,

Your promises of white sands and blue waters were met with disappointment at first. Bracing for three days of storms, high winds and flooded streets wasn’t exactly how we had imagined you would greet us. Still, we could see your colour through the rain.

The smiles of the locals, the smells of freshly baked tortillas wafting into our little apartment differed greatly from the snow of Toronto; cold slush to walking barefoot with sand between our toes. It felt good to be somewhere new. We were ready to explore and ready to slow down. Once on island time, we couldn’t have loved it more. Life was simpler. There was nothing to do and nowhere to be, the wifi signal so weak there was little point trying to stay connected. What a gift these days.

As the rain cleared you revealed yourself to us. The sun came out and the water sparkled. We saw the care that was taken for your land. A plastic bag ban. No straws in our daily margaritas. Whole areas of the island where you couldn’t take bikes, golf buggies or even walk in parts, in a bid to protect the land.

At low tide we walked along your sandbank to your fiercely protected areas that allow the flamingos, pelicans, herons and other wildlife to flourish in their natural habitat without being accosted by visitors. It really was an island paradise.

Though clearly a popular destination, we were grateful to call you home for a time and to have a glimpse into the daily lives of the people who call you their home every single day.

With love,

x