Wanton indulgence in Cancun

James Stone

Havana was stunning in every way possible but I couldn't wait to get back to Cancun. Cuba is a great holiday destination for the culturally observant traveller who is willing to rough it in locals' houses and pack into rammed buses on day-long trips across the country at no less than 35 degrees C, but sometimes you just need to chill out.

I had expanded my mine plenty on Fidel Castro's Caribbean island and now it was time to destroy it: bring on Cancun.

As we flew in on a rickety plane for Havana I was more taken aback by the massive Burger King right by the airport than the miles of turquoise seas and white coastline. A few weeks in the Caribbean and you somehow seem to view the stunning beaches as 'just another sun haunt'.

I'm almost ashamed to say my first stop off in Cancun was at that very Burger King – but it somehow became symbolic for the rest of the trip. While in Cuba I had eaten about seven portions of fresh fruit every day, cut down on all the saturated fats (there weren't any to be eaten) and probably doubled my lifetime intake of fish. So I was feeling pretty sharp. But Cancun is like the Cuba of the 1950s, before the revolution: unashamed decadence and self-indulgence. How good that juicy flame grilled burger tasted.

Next stop was the hotel. I had my rucksack taken by the porter, tipped him like an old colonial, and went up into my plush room with the gold trimmings intact. I bet even Castro doesn't have such lodgings.

Just fifteen minutes later I went out and decided to see what was to offer. The hotel lobby ambushed me with windsurfing expeditions, diving trips to Isla de Mujeres, excursions to Tulum to see the Mayan remains, club nights with the spring break kids from the US, catamaran trips and even adventure days out in the jungle that surround the city in the Yucatan Peninsula.

So I went out to the beach and bought myself a beer. After about an hour I got up, went into the sea and swam around for a while. Then I got back on my deckchair and bought another few bottles of Negra Modelo.

Cancun is all about doing what you want when you want and not worrying about the consequences. I could go into the stunning coral reef I visited when I took a scuba diving course, or the rounds of golf I played with some rich Americans on some of the best courses in the world, or even my wild nights out with the spring breakers where I was caught in a rather compromising position with five teenage girls and a can of whipped cream.

But that would be to give the impression Cancun was all about having a wild time – of course you can but it's by no means necessary - in this democratic hotbed of capitalism holidaymakers just resign themselves to obeying their primal urges and enjoy whatever happens next.