The Beautiful, Mildewy Madness of Living in the Tulum Jungle

There comes a point during the rainy season in the Tulum jungle when you start looking around your beautiful home and wondering if you should just give up and let the mildew take over.

I believe we've reached that point.

Our once-beautiful white walls are now sporting a lovely shade of mildew grey. The towels are damp. The furniture is damp. The bedding is damp. Even things that haven't been anywhere near water are somehow damp.

And because our entire house is made of concrete, the walls and floors have decided to join in the fun.

It's like living inside a very stylish sponge.

Welcome to jungle paradise. Bring a mop. Actually, bring six.

Cleaning, Cleaning, and More Bloody Cleaning!

Some days, I honestly want to sit down and cry.

Not because I don't love living here. I do. But good grief, the cleaning!

You scrub mildew off the walls, wipe down furniture, wash the floors, clean up muddy paw prints, and finally stand back to admire your hard work.

For approximately eleven minutes.

Then you spot another patch of mildew. Or a wet dog wanders in.

Or a cat throws up on the floor you've just mopped.

And off we go again.

The laundry situation deserves its own support group.

We have a perfectly good washer and dryer. Unfortunately, we also live off-grid, which means those lovely appliances need electricity.

And electricity requires sunshine. Remember sunshine? That bright yellow thing in the sky? Apparently, it's taken an extended holiday.

So the damp towels pile up while I stare hopefully at the clouds, waiting for enough solar power to get a couple of loads done.

When the sun finally appears, it's not a relaxing moment.

It's a full-blown emergency.

QUICK! THE SUN'S OUT! PUT THE WASHING ON!

Honestly, I never thought I'd get this excited about doing laundry.

☀️Solar Power and Other Rainy-Season Adventures

Living off-grid is wonderful. Until the sun disappears for days.

Our solar batteries slowly lose their enthusiasm for life, and we begin playing our favourite rainy-season game:

What Can We Turn Off Next? Lights? Off. Anything unnecessary? Off. Do we really need that fan?

Eventually, the batteries are running on fumes, and out comes the generator to save the day.

Meanwhile, the pool is occasionally overflowing, because apparently there's no shortage of water anywhere except where we actually want it.

And the food? Forget leaving anything on the counter.

Bread goes moldy, produce spoils, and even the pet food seems determined to turn into a science experiment. At this point, everything lives in the refrigerator.

If I could fit the sofa in there, I probably would.

Five Cats, Two Dogs, and One Very Tired Human

Now let's discuss the furry members of the household.

The dogs absolutely love charging around the wet jungle, returning home covered in mud, leaves, and those horrible teeny-tiny ticks.

Lovely.

Nothing quite says welcome home like inspecting a wet dog for unwanted passengers.

And the cats? Oh, the cats. Normally, they have an entire jungle to entertain themselves.

But during endless rainy days, they're stuck indoors.

Five bored cats in a house that you've just spent hours cleaning. What could possibly go wrong?

Suddenly, my lovely home becomes the Tulum Grand Prix. Cats fly across the furniture, race up and down the stairs, knock things over, chase imaginary enemies, and generally behave like they've been drinking espresso.

And then there's the concrete floor situation.

When the humidity gets bad enough, a film of moisture develops on the floors, turning the entire house into something resembling an ice rink. Watching a cat attempt a high-speed corner is quite something. Four paws going in four different directions.

A sideways slide. A look of complete betrayal.

The dogs aren't much better.

One comes charging into the room, tries to stop, and continues travelling another three feet.

It's hilarious. Until you remember that you have to dry the floors. Again. And make sure nobody hurts themselves.

Naturally, after they've finished destroying my freshly cleaned house, all seven animals collapse for a nap.

Usually on something clean. Sometimes I suspect they're running an organised campaign against me.

🌴Then the Jungle Has the Audacity to Be Beautiful

Just when I've decided I've had enough and I'm seriously considering moving somewhere with central air-conditioning, proper drainage, and floors that aren't trying to kill me…

The jungle does its thing. And honestly, it's rather unfair.

Everything turns this incredible, almost impossible shade of green. The trees are lush, the plants seem to double in size overnight, and the whole jungle smells absolutely gorgeous.

That rich, earthy smell after the rain. The flowers. The trees. The fresh, cool air.

And the birds! There are so many of them. Calling, singing, squawking, and having what sounds like very important conversations across the treetops.

Then the wild turkeys are wandering through as if they're inspecting the property. No invitation. No appointment. Just a casual stroll around Los Arboles

And then come my absolute favorites.

The spider monkeys! They visit almost daily when the berries are ready, swinging through the trees with their tiny babies clinging on. I can stand there for ages watching them.

The mothers moving effortlessly through the branches, the babies hanging on for dear life, and the whole troop enjoying their jungle buffet.

It's magical. And for a few precious minutes, I completely forget that my house inside and out is slowly turning greyish/black

🧦Sweater Weather in the Caribbean?

Now, there is one rather fabulous bonus to all this rainy-season nonsense.

It starts getting cooler. And I don't mean turn the air-conditioning down one degree cooler.

I mean actual socks! Jeans! A sweater!

I know. Calm down. It's very exciting. Suddenly, hot cocoa sounds wonderful.

Hot showers become something you actually look forward to. And my kitchen starts producing proper comfort food. Big pots of soup.

Homemade tomato soup with a grilled ham and cheese sandwich. The sort of meal that makes you want to curl up somewhere cozy and ignore the world.

At night, the comforters come out. The cats, having spent the entire day behaving like tiny furry lunatics, suddenly become sweet little angels who just want to snuggle. They've exhausted themselves destroying the house. And I'm not far behind.

The Reward Is Almost Here

☀️The wonderful thing about surviving rainy season is knowing what's just around the corner

Those absolutely glorious sunny days. Clear blue skies. Cooler breezes.

The humidity finally backing off. The beaches looking beautiful again. Our solar batteries actually charging properly.

Imagine that! And the nights get even better. Cool enough for flannel pajamas, slippers, and a proper comforter.

Yes, I moved to the Mexican Caribbean and now get ridiculously excited about wearing flannel pajamas.

Don't judge me.

It's wonderful.

❓So, Would I Trade Jungle Life?

Ask me on a day when I've scrubbed mildew off the same wall for the third time, the laundry pile is taller than I am, the batteries are nearly dead, and a cat has just skidded across my freshly mopped floor.

I might suggest putting the whole house on Facebook Marketplace.

Beautiful jungle home. Comes with seven animals, unlimited humidity, and its own thriving mildew collection.

But then the rain stops. The jungle comes alive.

The birds start singing, the wild turkeys wander past, and a family of spider monkeys appears in the trees. And there I am, standing outside with a cup of coffee, watching these incredible creatures in their natural home.

Remembering exactly why I chose this life.

Because for all its madness, mess, mud, mildew, and occasional moments of wanting to scream into a damp towel…

I absolutely love living here. I just wish the mildew didn't love living here quite so much.

Now, if someone could arrange five straight days of sunshine, that would be marvellous.

I've got laundry to do.

And apparently a wall to scrub.

Again.