For years, Tulum was synonymous with exclusivity, spirituality, and tropical luxury. Today, hotels are empty, flights are few and far between, and social media shows a reality that is difficult to hide: tourism in Tulum is going through its worst moment in years.
From tourism boom to unsustainable oversupply
Tulum’s boom began as a success story. Million-dollar investments, luxury projects, and marketing that positioned it as “the new Bali of the Caribbean” attracted celebrities and high-end travelers alike. But what seemed like unstoppable expansion soon turned into overexploitation.
According to the Quintana Roo Tourist Information System, current hotel occupancy is barely 49.2% of the more than 11,000 rooms available, figures well below those of Cancun or the Riviera Maya. Added to this is the decline in air connectivity: during the last week of September, only 48 flights (24 domestic and 24 international) landed at the new Tulum International Airport, which opened in 2023 with high expectations.
According to experts, the cause is an explosive combination: oversupply, exorbitant prices, loss of domestic tourism, and the massive arrival of sargassum, a natural phenomenon that has affected the destination’s paradisiacal image.
“There was abuse of rates and overconfidence. They thought the good times would last forever,” says Conrad Bergwerf, former president of the Riviera Maya Hotel Association.
The luxury that drove away Mexican tourists
For years, Tulum was marketed as a spiritual retreat, but it ended up becoming a showcase for elitism. Accommodation and consumption rates left out a large part of domestic tourism. Today, staying at an Airbnb costs an average of $185 per night, 27% more than in Playa del Carmen and 26% more than in Cancun.
Restaurants are not far behind: a hamburger can cost 400 pesos and a burrito up to 350. In a country where the daily minimum wage is around 312 pesos, Tulum is no longer affordable even for the middle class that once made it prosper.
The result was a radical change in the type of visitor. In 2024, of the 12.2 million tourists who visited the Riviera Maya, only 2.5 million were Mexican. The rest were foreigners. But over time, even they began to look to other more affordable and authentic destinations, such as Colombia or the Dominican Republic.
The impact of military control
In addition to the economic crisis, there is a political and social issue: the militarization of the Jaguar National Park. Since December 2024, the Ministry of National Defense has been administering the protected natural area, imposing access fees ranging from 105 to more than 400 pesos, plus an extra 100 pesos to enter the archaeological zone.
Although the municipal government assures that there are no mandatory fees, visitors and merchants report otherwise. Many claim that military controls, restrictions, and general confusion have scared away tourists.
“Before, you could enter the beaches freely, but now there are barriers, fees, and surveillance. It’s absurd to pay for something that should belong to everyone,” says a local resident.
Local protests led to free access for residents and free Sundays for Mexicans. But the damage to the town’s image had already been done: Tulum went from being a free and bohemian destination to a controlled, expensive, and bureaucratic space.
Insecurity and the erosion of the “paradise” brand
Tulum’s charm is also threatened by insecurity. According to the National Citizen Observatory, it is currently the most violent municipality in Quintana Roo, with a rate of 529 crimes per 100,000 inhabitants, surpassing even Cancun.
Social media is flooded with videos of empty beaches, closed restaurants, and premises with “for rent” signs. Business owners are publicly apologizing to domestic tourists, acknowledging that mistreatment, abuse, and inflated prices have taken their toll.
“We forgot who used to fill Tulum. Mexican tourists were our base, and we let them go,” laments a local restaurant owner.
Can Tulum reinvent itself?
In response to the crisis, Mayor Diego Castañón launched an initiative to guarantee free access to the beaches, albeit with restrictions that many consider incongruous: no food, drinks, or umbrellas are allowed, and consumption at private establishments is required.
The state government and the federal Ministry of Tourism are also working on a plan to revive the destination, improving mobility from the airport and promoting a more orderly and sustainable development model.
Even so, the underlying problem remains structural. Tulum became a victim of its own success: it bet everything on luxury tourism and neglected accessibility, sustainability, and the local community.
A lesson for tourism in Mexico
What is happening in Tulum is not an isolated case. It is a reflection of what happens when tourism growth is prioritized over planning and social welfare. Mexico needs to rethink its model: it must commit to sustainable destinations, with fair prices, inclusion, and respect for the natural environment.
The “new Tulum” could be an opportunity for rebirth, if it manages to balance exclusivity with authenticity. If, instead of following the path of elitism and privatization, it recovers its essence: open beaches, local culture, and genuine hospitality.
For now, the town that once represented conscious luxury faces its greatest challenge: not to disappear under the weight of its own fame.