TULUM, Mexico — For the first half of my Mexican vacation, I never left a 1-mile radius.

That's why we go to resorts, right?

The daily swim in the infinity pool. Pushing the baby around in some floating contraption in another pool. Sipping a margarita in yet another pool. Gluttonous dinners offset hopefully — but not likely — by the 15-minute walk to the white sand beach overlooking the gleaming Caribbean Sea.

And repeat.

But five days of such splendor at the Fairmont Mayakoba near Playa del Carmen was quite enough. That's why I spent the second half of my winter getaway stretching my legs.

I rented a car and moved down the beach to a hotel nearer Tulum to better explore one of Mexico's most popular destinations, Riviera Maya, an expansive stretch of Caribbean coast where many people go precisely not to leave a 1-mile radius. But sometimes the legs need stretching.

Exploring Tulum

What is called Tulum is actually two starkly different places. One is a hot, dusty collection of streets about 2 miles from the coast. The other hugs the coast. (And there is a third Tulum — the Mayan ruins just north of town.)

I started in town, parking my car on a side street and walking up and down Tulum Avenue, which doubles as the primary highway running along the coast. What was a sleepy backwater not long ago has had an infusion of modernity, such as the restaurant Burrito Amor, which, like many of the most charming eateries in the area, has no walls — just a low wood enclosure, dangling lights and small menu of well-constructed burritos.

Though there are some progressive food options in the town of Tulum — bohemian cafes, upscale pizza and the like — it's a fairly charmless place with the same gas station/convenience store/fast food/tourist schlock lineup as anywhere. So it's best to get to the beach.

A couple of miles east, down a paved road buzzing with rental cars, taxis, scooters, bicycles and hitchhikers, sits that beach, in a very different place also called Tulum.

This Tulum amounts to a road hugged by thick trees. One side is the jungle side, where the restaurants and shops stand. Among those restaurants is Hartwood (www.hartwoodtulum.com), started by a husband-wife team from New York City. It generates a two-hour wait just to get a reservation when they become available daily at 3 p.m.

The other side of the road is the beach side, where the hotels are. It's a land of smoothies and espresso, eco this-and-that, bike rentals and racks of straw hats, cool dudes in tank tops and women in bikini tops (almost all American, at least in January). More than anything, Tulum is about yoga, health and general relaxation, with almost endless options for activities, and hotel stays catering to the wellness getaway.

The beach is largely hidden behind the hotels, generally of the modest and boutique variety, not the sprawling concrete behemoths farther north on the coast. I stopped in at The Real Coconut, the beachfront restaurant at the Sanara hotel, where I opted for a mint chocolate ice cream smoothie (delicious — with no actual ice cream) and avocado toast (gluten-free, of course), which was robust, fresh and as delicious as any avocado toast I've had.

A breeze blew in from the gleaming ocean, across the attractive people from New York City who lounged on the patio with their cold-pressed green juices. I walked down to the broad, white beach and spied a chalkboard touting the 9 a.m. daily yoga class. The cost? Just a “loving donation.”

Yup. That's Tulum.

Swimming

with turtles

About 15 miles north of Tulum sits Akumal, where many people visit for one reason: snorkeling with green sea turtles. (A guided tour with equipment costs $15 to $25.)

I wound up with a guide named Moises, who told two German tourists and me that the green sea turtles come to the shallow waters off Akumal to feast on grass growing from the sandy floor. Masks tight on our faces and flippers aflutter, we headed into the calm Caribbean waters. Within minutes, Moises was pointing at a handsome speckled turtle, about 2 feet long, puttering along the ocean floor, ducking its head into and out of the swaying grass.

Guides guarantee a tourist will see at least one turtle, and it soon became clear why: They're all over the place. We swam from turtle to turtle — and a resting stingray, half-buried by the sand — watching them move their little snakelike heads as they ate, then rose to the surface to gasp some air.

Las Ruinas

In addition to its beaches and cenotes, Riviera Maya — and the general region, stretching down to Central America — is well known for its hundreds of Mayan ruins. An entire trip to the area could be dedicated to nothing but ruins by day and margaritas by night. I carved out time for just one visit, and it, too, is called Tulum (entry costs only a few dollars). Situated a couple of miles north of the town of the same name, the Tulum ruins sit mostly on a cliff above the sea and include their own beach.

I took everyone's advice and arrived shortly after the 8 a.m. opening. The miserable overcrowding and long lines were nowhere to be found. I was free to move unhurriedly between the fascinating stone structures dating back hundreds of years beneath a moody gray sky and above a swaying blue-green sea.

jbnoel@tribpub.com