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IF YOU’RE INTERESTED IN PARTNERING FOR ISSUE 2, WE RECOMMEND REACHING OUT EARLY TO SECURE PLACEMENT AND ALIGN ON CREATIVE TIMELINES.
IF YOU’RE INTERESTED IN PARTNERING FOR ISSUE 2, WE RECOMMEND REACHING OUT EARLY TO SECURE PLACEMENT AND ALIGN ON CREATIVE TIMELINES.
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Alberto: the barefoot runner.
A journey of discipline, roots, and running Tulum’s streets with nothing but intention.
Active Tulum
Move
3 min read
In a world of running shoes and training plans, Alberto Summers has chosen the simplest path possible — one that connects him directly to the earth.
For the past ten years, Alberto has lived completely barefoot. He walks, runs, and moves through Tulum without shoes — across coral roads, through jungle trails, and along the white-sand beaches. “When you touch the ground,” he says softly, “you remember who you are.”
Originally from Mexico City, Alberto once worked in systems engineering — far from the barefoot life he now embodies. After a near-death experience while climbing in Ireland in his late 20s, he began to see life differently. “I realized I’m not just this body,” he explains. “Life doesn’t start or end in a single moment.” That awakening sent him searching for a deeper spiritual connection.
He found it years later through meditation and mentorship in the Buddhist tradition while living in Cancún. Meditation became his foundation — hours of stillness each day that helped him observe the mind and detach from fear. Eventually, his path led him south to Tulum, where he built his own Mayan-style palapa home in the jungle, entirely by hand using recycled materials and solar power. “I wanted to live simple, to live true,” he says.
Alberto’s transformation extended to his body. He gave up alcohol, embraced a raw-vegan diet, and started running daily — up to 16 kilometers a day. When his shoes wore out, he realized he didn’t need them. “At first I ran eight kilometers barefoot,” he recalls, smiling. “Then nine. Then sixteen again.”
Today, at 58 years old, Alberto teaches AcroYoga at Holistika, Eufemia, and other local studios. His classes blend balance, trust, and playfulness — a reflection of how he lives. When he’s not teaching, you might find him running barefoot through centro, doing handstands in the park, or climbing coconut trees along the beach.
Despite the rapid changes sweeping through Tulum, Alberto remains calm, rooted, and present. “I accept whatever happens,” he says. “It’s impossible to stop change — but you can stay connected while it happens.”
And when he talks about running with the community, his smile widens. “Because I love to run,” he says. “Running is meditation.”
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High-flying movement and the athletes behind Tulum's most electrifying community event.
Active Tulum
Move
2 min read
Tulum has always attracted people searching for more—more movement, more meaning, more intensity in how they live. And deep inside the jungle, at Zemway Cenote—one of the clearest, most untouched cenotes in Quintana Roo—an entirely new expression of athleticism is taking shape.
The story begins with Curtis Bolduc, a cliff diver with more than 25 years of experience. When he and his fiancée Ana moved to Mexico, they had no plans of building anything. But the moment Curtis saw the cenote—its depth, clarity, and raw beauty—he knew Tulum wasn’t just another stop. It was the perfect home for the future of cliff jumping.
He spent months building relationships, checking depths, refining safety standards, and working with Red Bull and USA Diving athletes to design the platforms correctly. What started as quiet early-morning scouting turned into a complete 10- and 14-meter platform system. But the true turning point came when Curtis invited some of the best divers in the world to train in Tulum—and they all said yes.
Today, Jump League is a gathering place for the sport’s brightest talent. World champions. Viral POV phenoms. Athletes who travel the world pushing the limits of what a human can do in midair.
It’s not only the cenotes—though the one they train in is extraordinary. It’s the culture of movement here. The way people come to Tulum to better themselves. They run at sunrise, train in the jungle, swim, breathe, sweat, stretch, and chase intensity. It’s a community built on transformation and courage.
John Wayne, from California, is a U.S. Marine veteran who survived an internal decapitation and was told he’d never run or lift again. Now he performs 20-meter jumps with a calmness earned through resilience and meditation.
Lucas Oprescu, originally from Romania, is admired for his precision, durability, and fearlessness—capable of hitting 70-foot cliffs again and again with the same confidence.
Austrian Osama “Ossy” Ali pulls millions into remote cliff jumps through the intensity of his POV reels.
And Albert Monti, the world champion from Barcelona, is known for tricks no one else on earth can perform—mid-air twists that look like physics bending in real time.
Together with Curtis, they’ve jumped all over the world. And yet every single one of them says some version of the same thing: There is nothing like Tulum.
It’s not only the cenotes—though the one they train in is extraordinary. It’s the culture of movement here. The way people come to Tulum to better themselves. They run at sunrise, train in the jungle, swim, breathe, sweat, stretch, and chase intensity. It’s a community built on transformation and courage.
“Monkey see, monkey do,” Lucas says. “You see healthy people everywhere. It inspires you to level up.”
Ozzy laughs remembering his arrival and the chaos of Cancún and Playa del Carmen: “The moment we reached Tulum, I felt it. I understood instantly why the project is here.”
For athletes, Tulum is a place where the body stays sharp. Warm climate year-round. Calm jungle. Perfect water. And a contagious energy that pulls people into motion.
But the real power of Jump League isn’t in height. It’s in mindset.
Everyone starts from the ground, building confidence step by step, guided by world-class athletes in the water. Visitors learn mechanics, breathing, body control, and how to quiet the mind when adrenaline spikes.
“For some people, the biggest moment of their year is doing a single backflip from five meters,” Ozzy says. “We celebrate that the same way as a quad flip.”
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“Monkey see, monkey do. You see healthy people everywhere. It inspires you to level up.”
For athletes, Tulum is a place where the body stays sharp. Warm climate year-round. Calm jungle. Perfect water. And a contagious energy that pulls people into motion. Everyone starts from the ground, building confidence step by step, guided by world-class athletes in the water. Visitors learn mechanics, breathing, body control, and how to quiet the mind when adrenaline spikes.
“For some people, the biggest moment of their year is doing a single backflip from five meters,” Ossy says. “We celebrate that the same way as a quad flip.”
Despite being an extreme sport, Jump League has built an environment where safety is engineered into every detail: depth checks, safety swimmers, lifeguards, life vests for beginners, constant communication, and a deep respect for technique.
Ossy laughs remembering his arrival and the chaos of Cancún and Playa del Carmen: “The moment we reached Tulum, I felt it. I understood instantly why the project is here.” “This isn’t recklessness,” Curtis says. “This is mastery. Our sport goes nowhere if we aren’t safe. We double down on it every session.”
What’s happening in Tulum feels like the start of a shift for the entire sport. With two million annual tourists, Tulum offers something unique: a constant gateway for new people to safely try cliff jumping—and a world-class training ground for professionals.
Curtis imagines a future where Tulum becomes the world capital of cliff jumping: a complete training compound with platforms of every height, global competitions, an athlete hub, and a year-round community of divers. “Three years from now,” he says, “I see cliff jumping in the X Games, athletes getting paid, and Tulum at the center of it.”
For all the tricks and heights, the athletes agree on one thing: they’re here because of Curtis. His authenticity. His loyalty. His vision. And his willingness to invest his own time, money, and belief into building something bigger than himself. “He’s a legend,” Lucas says. “When he brings an idea like this, you don’t say no.” John, who has known him for years, sums it up simply: “This isn’t a selfish dream. It’s a mission to elevate the sport and the people in it.”
Jump League is more than a project—it’s a movement. One that fits perfectly into the identity of Tulum, a place where people come to face themselves, challenge their limits, and discover what their mind and body can truly do. Some jump for the first time. Some flip for the first time. Some conquer a fear. Some find a new passion altogether.
And like everything in Tulum, the experience changes you. Because here, in this jungle, with this community and over this water, people don’t jump to escape life—they jump to enter it fully.
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15 min read
Move
Sports community built on strength in Tulum.
2
min read
Move
Active Tulum
Move
2 min read
In the heart of Tulum, where yoga mats and beach clubs often define wellness, a different kind of movement is quietly reshaping lives — one tackle, one team huddle, one heartbeat at a time. The Tulum Rugby Club was never meant to be just a sports team. It was born from risk, faith, and the unshakable belief that community can change lives.
When Ricardo “Chaki” Chacón and his wife Pau decided to sell everything — including their business — to fund a local rugby team, it wasn’t about money or fame. “We believed in this project like a life dream,” Chaki says. “We saw people changing their lives through rugby. That’s when we decided to go all in.” The couple traded comfort for conviction, moving their family into a simpler life to build something bigger than themselves. What began as a few people tossing a ball on weekends has evolved into a full-fledged club with over 70 members, multiple youth divisions, and a vision to create Mexico’s first dedicated rugby ground — right here in Tulum.
For Sam Gordon, a British-born player and now the club’s financial director and chairman, joining the Tulum Rugby Club was like rediscovering a lost part of himself. “I’ve played for 37 years,” he says. “Rugby saved me as a kid. It gave me discipline, family, and purpose. When I saw what Chaki built here — Mexicans, Argentinians, English, Polish players all training together — I knew I’d found home again.” The club’s message is simple: rugby is for everyone. On the field, nationality, background, and income disappear. What remains is shared struggle, shared respect, and shared joy. “It’s not just a sport,” Chaki says. “It’s an exercise in life — learning to face hard situations with your heart strong and your mind calm.”
Stories of transformation ripple through the club. One woman found the courage to leave an abusive relationship after discovering her strength on the field. Others have overcome addiction, depression, or isolation through the discipline of training and teamwork. “When people come here, they find purpose,” Chaki says. “They find family.” Sam adds, “Rugby has always been a social movement — from the days of apartheid in South Africa to now in Tulum. It’s a sport that brings people together. You go to war for 80 minutes, then share a beer with your opponents. That’s respect.”
Their next dream: a permanent rugby home. “There are 58 registered rugby teams in Mexico, but not one dedicated rugby field,” Sam says. “Tulum should have the first. This city is already a global brand — imagine what that would mean for the sport here.” Rugby in Tulum doesn’t come with manicured pitches or shiny gear. It’s played under the lights of a shared field, on rocky ground, in the humidity of the jungle. But that’s what makes it beautiful. “It’s rustic,” Sam smiles. “No one’s here for fame. They’re here because they love it.”
And that’s what makes Tulum Rugby Club more than a team — it’s a mirror of the town itself. Diverse, imperfect, passionate, and growing with heart. Chaki puts it best: “Rugby shows you the person you could become. It’s not about hitting harder; it’s about living braver.”
Their training grounds tell the story — a shared baseball field at Deportivo, where players set up their own posts before each game. “The first time I came, I saw everyone building the pitch together,” Sam recalls. “You’d never see that in England. It’s raw, but it’s real.” They train three days a week — Mondays and Wednesdays for contact sessions, Fridays for tag rugby, an inclusive, non-contact version that welcomes newcomers and kids. The club now fields teams for men, women, and children, with plans to grow youth divisions and host national tournaments.
Tulum Rugby Club
Training at Deportivo Baseball Field
Mondays & Wednesdays — Full Training | Fridays — Non-Contact Tag Rugby (7 PM)
All ages, all backgrounds, all welcome.
15 min read
Move
A world-class athlete exploring breath, discipline, and depth through freediving in Tulum's cenotes.
3
min read
Move
Active Tulum
Move
2 min read
Tulum has always been a crossroads for reinvention. Some people arrive seeking quiet. Others arrive chasing energy. A few, like Tavi Castro, find a doorway into an entirely different world — one just below the surface.
Born in Guadalajara and raised in Canada, Tavi spent most of his life moving between high-performance sport and the global fitness industry. He played soccer in Europe, studied aerospace engineering, became a competitive bodybuilder, and produced viral content long before it was part of the culture. His path was built through discipline and intensity.
Then an injury helped him change course.
“I couldn’t walk for eight months. All I could do was swim, and in Tulum there are no Olympic pools — only cenotes.”
That limitation became a portal. Daily swims led to quiet observation. Quiet observation led to curiosity. Curiosity led to freediving.
What started as rehab became meditation — not the kind you sit for, but the kind you earn through surrender.
“Underwater, you can’t pretend you’re calm. The body tells the truth.”
In the cenotes, Tavi discovered stillness and science: breath holds, heart-rate shifts, the nervous system, blood gases. Performance not just through effort, but through control, softness, presence.
Tulum held space for that shift. The jungle, the humidity, the sun, the water — this place makes living healthy the default, not the achievement.
“It’s fun to be healthy here,” he says. “Nature motivates you without forcing it.”
Today, Tavi’s routine is simple: mornings in the water at Laguna Kaan Luum, training down into crystalline blue and rising through layers of cloud. Breathwork shared online and in person. Quiet evangelism. No push, just invitation.
He imagines a Tulum known less for parties and more for nervous-system recovery. Where the cenotes are seen as training grounds for presence, not just tourist postcards. Where breathwork is part of the rhythm of town life, not a trend.
“I want Tulum to grow — but in the right direction.”
That philosophy runs deeper than his dives. In a place where movement and nature define the culture, Tavi has become part of the shift happening here — away from distraction, toward depth. Toward choosing presence over performance. Toward a different kind of strength.
The surface is loud.
Much of Tulum’s magic lives underwater.
And if Tavi’s journey says anything, it’s this: the most powerful transformations don’t always happen in the gym or at the party — they happen in silence, lungs full, letting go, and trusting you’ll rise.
15 min read
Move
Stories from women leading Tulum’s wellness movement.
5
min read
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Active Tulum
Move
2 min read
When Angela Monaco arrived in Tulum 12 years ago, it wasn’t for a fresh start — it was simply to visit her brother for a wedding. But something about this place stopped her. The ruins, the ocean air, the feeling of being able to hear her own thoughts again. After years living between New York, Brazil, and Barcelona, Tulum was the first place that felt like home without effort. She stayed — and never left.
Angela’s wellness journey started when she was a teenager teaching aerobics to pay for school, but her path deepened after the loss of her brother. She turned to neuroscience, biology, nutrition, and the study of how the body communicates long before the mind catches up. That curiosity shapes everything she does now.
She’s not a typical trainer. Angela listens first. She looks at how people live, not just how they move. She believes real change happens slowly — one sustainable shift at a time — and that most people don’t need intensity, they need clarity. Her clients come from all over the world, often overwhelmed by the speed of their lives. In Tulum, she gives them space to reset.
Angela has seen Tulum transform, but she thinks the core of the town has stayed the same: people arrive ready to look inward. She helps them do that by translating science into simple habits, rebuilding trust between body and mind, and reminding them that they don’t need to rush.
“Tulum is where people finally stop and listen,” she says. “Your body already knows what you need. My job is just to help you hear it.”
Born in the desert of Sonora, Fernanda Araiza’s path began in one of Mexico’s toughest regions — but what she found there was the practice that would define her life. At just ten years old, she began training under John Sharp, a New Yorker turned martial artist who dedicated the final decades of his life to teaching free self-defense classes in northern Mexico. His lessons, she says, were never just about fighting — they were about philosophy, presence, and the discipline to protect yourself without losing your softness.
Now a first-dan black belt in Japanese Jiu Jitsu, Fernanda carries his legacy forward in Tulum. Her women’s self-defense classes have become a safe haven for empowerment, healing, and community. “It’s better to know something and not have to use it,” she says, “than to have to use it and not know it.”
But for Fernanda, strength is not aggression — it’s awareness. Her teaching blends meditation, breathwork, and ritual, helping women transform fear into focus. “The real practice isn’t learning to hurt someone,” she says. “It’s learning to control yourself.”
Each class begins and ends with gratitude — a prayer to the ancestors and to the students’ own inner strength. The result is powerful: women leave calmer, softer, and stronger all at once. “With great power comes great responsibility,” Fernanda smiles. “And the first responsibility is to believe in yourself.”
Five years ago, Brittney Carbone traded the chaos of Los Angeles for the calm of Tulum — and in that decision, she found the space to rebuild her life, redefine her purpose, and rise to the top of her sport.
A professional bodybuilder and mindset coach, Brittney’s story is one of complete transformation. After years in corporate America and a long personal battle with addiction and emotional eating, she discovered the discipline that would change everything: bodybuilding. Her dedication and resilience carried her through years of grueling competitions — finishing near the top again and again until finally, in 2023, she claimed victory as Mexico’s Open and 35+ Overall Champion.
But for Brittney, the real win wasn’t the trophy. It was what the process revealed — that true strength begins long before the stage lights. “The body becomes a side effect of the mind,” she says. That philosophy is now the foundation of her work as a coach, helping women around the world rebuild confidence through fitness, mindset, and self-awareness.
From her base in Tulum, Brittney is building a community grounded in wellness and empowerment. She coaches women globally, mentors locally, and continues to compete — not against others, but against her own limits.
Tulum has become both her home and her muse — a place where the spiritual and physical meet. It’s where discipline meets freedom, where her story of strength continues to unfold, and where she’s helping lead the next wave of women redefining what wellness in Tulum truly means.
Jane Mukami has built a life around one simple truth — taking care of yourself changes everything. Born in Nairobi and raised between continents, she spent nearly 20 years working in tech before realizing her real purpose wasn’t in front of a computer, but in helping others reclaim their health. “I was 28, newly divorced, and had never stepped foot in a gym,” she says. “But once I started moving my body, everything in my life began to move forward too.”
What began as a personal recovery became a movement. Jane transformed her own journey into a coaching approach that helps women lose weight without obsession, guilt, or burnout — a method that’s now reached women around the world through her bestselling book and program. Her philosophy is grounded in balance — learning to eat well, enjoy life, and stay consistent without extremes.
Now living full-time in Tulum, Jane embodies the lifestyle she teaches. “This place keeps you accountable,” she says. “You wake up to sunshine, people running on the beach, fresh food everywhere — there’s no excuse not to take care of yourself.” Between her morning workouts, dancing salsa at night, and hosting online coaching calls with women around the world, she’s created a rhythm that blends discipline with joy.
For Jane, Tulum represents freedom — freedom from the corporate world, from diet culture, and from the belief that health has to be hard. “Wellness doesn’t need to be complicated,” she says with a smile. “It just needs to be consistent. And here, that consistency feels like a gift.”
For Deanna — or “D,” as her students affectionately call her — Tulum isn’t just a place. It’s a mirror. A teacher. A catalyst for transformation.
A former dancer turned yoga instructor, she’s spent over fifteen years guiding others through the same kind of healing she found through movement. Her path began at seventeen when her ballet teacher suggested yoga to strengthen her arms. What started as an experiment in a hot yoga studio became the practice that would one day save her.
Years later, while in university and no longer dancing, Deanna experienced debilitating panic attacks and anxiety — long before “mental health” was part of common vocabulary. “I thought I was dying,” she remembers. “But when I went back to yoga, it was the first moment of peace I’d felt in months.” That experience became the foundation of her life’s work: using movement as medicine.
Now in her sixth year living in Tulum, Deanna has built a practice that reflects the spirit of the town itself — fluid, creative, and grounded in self-discovery. Her classes blend the discipline of yoga with the freedom of dance, inviting students to move not for perfection, but for connection.
“Tulum has a way of showing you what’s unresolved,” she says. “It brings everything to the surface — your shadows, your purpose, your truth. But it also gives you the environment and energy to heal.” She describes the community as a living ecosystem of movement, nature, and renewal — where yoga is as natural as sunrise and where health is woven into daily life.
Through her teaching, Deanna hopes to help shape the next era of Tulum — one rooted in authenticity, respect for the land, and conscious living. Her mantra captures that balance perfectly: Resist gravity. “There will always be things trying to pull you down,” she says, smiling. “But here, surrounded by sun, sea, and soul, it’s easier to rise.”
15 min read
Move
Training, discipline, and the people behind the movement.
5
min read
Move
Active Tulum
Move
2 min read
Alan and Angelo didn’t plan to build anything here. They just came to train — but Tulum has a way of turning shared passions into shared projects. What started as two strangers crossing paths at a calisthenics class quickly became a partnership built on discipline, creativity, and a belief that movement can reshape a person’s life.
Alan Dorantes Rodriguez, originally from Xalapa, Veracruz, built his athletic foundation through lucha, a discipline he trained in throughout his childhood. Over the years he explored other sports, eventually discovering calisthenics — a practice that challenged him physically and grounded him mentally. The handstand, now his signature skill, became more than a movement. “Every rep forces you into the present moment,” he says. “It teaches you to accept the process, not rush it.”
Angelo Moraga began his journey in Argentina within the world of extreme sports — snowboarding, wakeboarding, and anything that pushed his physical limits. Calisthenics offered him something new: progression, precision, and a direct connection between discipline and results.
When both men landed in Tulum, something clicked. They saw a place on the verge of becoming a true wellness capital — a community where people value movement, creativity, and the freedom to build something new. Together, they’ve begun shaping their own calisthenics space, imagining a gym that blends freestyle, handstands, bar work, and acrobatics into one environment.
Their mission is simple: create a home for movement in the jungle, inspire others to explore their physical potential, and share the belief that growth — like a handstand — starts one controlled breath at a time.
Originally from Calgary, Ryan Burke spent his early years far from the world of movement. No sports, no training, no structure—just a long battle with addiction that nearly ended his life at 23. Sobriety became his turning point, and fitness became the foundation that rebuilt everything. What started as a way to stay clean evolved into a full transformation that took him across Australia, Asia, and eventually to the cover of Men’s Health.
Tulum entered the story by chance—an invitation, a message, a moment of timing. But once he arrived in 2014, the connection was instant. The place that had already drawn seekers, athletes, yogis, and wanderers became the backdrop for Ryan’s next chapter, both personally and professionally.
Over the last decade, he’s watched Tulum evolve from a quiet spiritual escape to a globally recognized hub for serious fitness. And he believes the shift is just beginning. “Yoga and spirituality will always be pillars here,” he says, “but Tulum is becoming one of the world’s great fitness destinations. The community, the classes, the energy—it’s all moving in that direction.”
Today, Ryan leads high-intensity training, breathwork, and cold-exposure sessions at Amansala, where he’s helped shape one of the longest-running and most respected fitness retreats on earth. Between teaching, running, and his own recovery and wellness practices, he’s become part of the fabric of the movement shaping Tulum’s identity.
For Ryan, the magic of this place has nothing to do with trends or tourism cycles. “What makes Tulum special never changes,” he says. “You feel it the moment you get here. And if you’re ready for growth, this place meets you halfway.”
When Danny Ciccolini first came to Tulum in April 2021, he wasn’t searching for a new life—but the jungle had other plans. By day three, he already felt it: the calm, the rhythm, the sense of space he never found in Los Angeles. After years of grinding through traffic, training clients across the city, and living inside a nonstop schedule, Tulum offered something radically simple—movement, nature, and presence.
Danny’s path began in sports. A lifelong athlete, he played football through college before earning a degree in physical education and stepping into the world of performance training. From Equinox to mentorship under NBA performance coach Mike Guevara, to traveling the world with professional tennis player Nicole Gibbs, his career was built on precision, discipline, and pushing the human body to its potential.
But it was in Tulum where his philosophy finally clicked.
Here, Danny found room to move differently. The beach became his gym. The sand replaced studio floors. The community embraced unconventional training—Animal Flow, mobility, inversion therapy, breath work—and Danny quickly carved out a niche that didn’t exist before. His classes at Nomade, Vivo, and Abundance attract athletes, yogis, and everyday movers all searching for the same thing: a practice that feels alive.
For Danny, Tulum isn’t just a beautiful place to live healthy—it’s the best place in the world to stay healthy. Movement is medicine here. The barefoot mornings, the proximity to the sea, the openness of the community—everything supports a life centered on longevity, play, and real connection.
At 40, Danny says he feels younger than ever.
Fernando Barrera has seen Tulum change more than most. His family moved here over two decades ago, long before the rapid growth, and they’ve been part of the town’s movement culture ever since. What started with Fernando’s father practicing Muay Thai eventually grew into Tulum Fight Club — a family-run gym that has become a steady anchor in a fast-changing place.
Fernando grew up inside that environment. He started with Taekwondo, shifted into Muay Thai, and eventually found his identity in boxing. The discipline, the structure, and the ability to push past discomfort shaped how he sees both training and life. Today, he teaches classes alongside his family, staying committed to the values that built the gym in the first place.
What sets Fernando apart is his understanding of Tulum from the inside. He remembers the quiet years, the strange pandemic years, and the intense growth that brought new energy — and challenges — to the community. But he feels the shift happening now: more people running outside, more interest in training, and a genuine desire to build a healthier lifestyle here.
For Fernando, that evolution is exactly what Tulum needs. He wants locals and newcomers training together, supporting each other, and strengthening the town’s fitness culture in a way that lasts. His vision for the gym is rooted in growth — attracting athletes from around the world, running camps, and improving the space so it continues to serve the community.
At its core, Tulum Fight Club isn’t just a gym. It’s a family project built with patience, discipline, and love for the town they’ve called home for more than 20 years.
In a town defined by movement, wellness, and community, few sports have captured Tulum’s energy the way padel has. And at the center of that rise is Jungle Padel — and coach Diego Cosme, a Queretaro native who traded city life for the jungle and never looked back.
Diego arrived in Tulum with a background in scuba diving, real estate, and a lifelong love of sport. But it wasn’t until he discovered padel four years ago that everything clicked. The blend of tennis–like coordination, fast learning curve, and social play hooked him instantly. When he landed in Tulum, he found a town ready for something new — and a club that needed structure, vision, and heart.
What Diego brought wasn’t just coaching. He helped introduce organization, tournaments, round robins, and a real sense of belonging. Today, Jungle Padel feels like a gathering point: levels mixed together, strangers becoming partners, sixteen players rotating matches on a Saturday morning, and everyone ending with a coffee, a beer, and new friends.
Padel succeeds here because it mirrors Tulum’s rhythm. It’s accessible, social, playful, and rooted in community. Whether it’s kids in the new academy, adults looking to compete, or newcomers who just want to move their bodies, the courts have become a place where people plug into something bigger.
Looking ahead, Diego sees Jungle Padel evolving into a full wellness hub — a space where sport, mind, and lifestyle intersect.
15 min read
Fuel
Tulum’s go-to spot for fresh juices.
2
min read
Fuel
Active Tulum
Fuel
2 min read
Some places in Tulum feel like part of the daily rhythm, and Cocos Tulum is one of them. For years, José Antonio “Toño” Rodríguez Pimienta has stood behind his little corner stand—serving coconuts, fresh juice, and easy conversation to runners, trainers, expats, and the growing wellness crowd that moves through Tulum every single day. What began during the pandemic with one cooler and a handful of coconuts has quietly become one of the town’s most-loved healthy stops.
Toño didn’t plan to build a brand; he just stayed consistent. His coconuts have had the same Bacalar supplier since day one, the juice is always fresh, and the energy around the stand feels like the Tulum many people came here searching for: simple, natural, and real.
Over time, the menu expanded—orange, grapefruit, pineapple, watermelon, beet, green juice, organic eggs, honey, fruit, and soon, organic avocados and lemons. But the heart of Cocos Tulum is still the same. It’s a family effort: his mom and aunt from Tabasco, his cousins from Tulum, and Toño himself, who has lived here since he was eight. He remembers when this area was mostly jungle, when monkeys still climbed the trees and turtles crossed the road after the rain.
What he loves most isn’t the product—it’s the people. “Everyone arrives differently,” he says. “One person is tired, another is happy, another is sad. But together, we complement each other.” In a town built around movement, Cocos Tulum has become a quiet meeting point, a place where community naturally forms.
When asked about the future, Toño keeps it simple: fair prices, good quality, and serving the people who show up every day. That’s the spirit that built the stand—and the one that keeps Tulum coming back.
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