The beach is mine at 5:47 AM. Just me, warm water the colour of jade has golden streaks from the morning sun. No beach crowd. No Instagram couples. The seaweed floats to the shore, forming dark ribbons, and I don’t care. I grew up swimming in Jamaica. I know what Caribbean mornings feel like when they haven’t been staged for tourists.
This early, it is not the Cancún you will see reels about. It’s tranquil and therapeutic.
I’m at Riu Latino in early September, shoulder season, when the heat breaks, even locals and the all-inclusive crowd thins to couples who’ve been together too long and a handful of solo travellers trying to stretch vacation budgets. The adults-only policy means no screaming children at the pool, no families monopolizing breakfast tables. Just grown-ups making questionable decisions about third margaritas before noon. Yes. There is a 24-hour bar.
The Yucatán Peninsula averages 90°F in September, but humidity pushes the feel-it temperature past 105°F most afternoons, according to Mexico’s National Meteorological Service. I’m from the tropics. It still broke me.
But we’ll get to that.
My Restaurant Strategy For Hotel Riu Latino
Let me tell you about breakfast at Flavours, the main buffet restaurant. I arrive at 7:12 AM, before the couples stake out ocean-view and garden-view tables. I eat protein and veggies from the best stations and always grab the fried plantains.
By 7:30, I am done eating. I head to the shoreline once again for my daily beach walk. I take a final dip in the ocean. Then head back to my room to shower.
It’s close to 9AM, and I am back at the restaurant again, but this time for fruits.
This is the solo traveller secret. Breakfast works. Dinner doesn’t.
The specialty restaurants require reservations. Milan (Italian), Steakhouse, Kulinarium (gourmet), Kawachi (Asian). Some are full buffet, hybrid buffet-à la carte. I booked a table in Milan for dinner on day three. Dinner felt too formal for me to serve my own pizza slice.
The couple at the next table keeps staring, trying to figure out my story. Why is he alone? Is he waiting for someone? I’m not. I’m just eating pasta. I said hello. And it turns out they were just wondering what to get.
The dining breakdown that actually works:
- Breakfast at Flavours: Fresh-juice bar, made-to-order omelets, chilaquiles (when available). Go early. Own it.
- Dinner at à la carte restaurants: Milan’s carbonara, Steakhouse’s grilled meat platter. Less awkward than a solo dinner, better quality than a buffet.
- Afternoon at swim-up bar: Nachos, ceviche, frozen margaritas. This is where you meet people. More on this later.
The hotel shares parties with neighbouring Riu Cancún, which theoretically expands dining options if you go at the right time. In practice, I never ventured over. Flavours and Milan kept me fed. The swim-up bar kept me hydrated and buzzed if I felt like having alcohol.
Stay Cool and Hydrate While in Playa Mujeres
Day two, I made the mistake of staying at the beach past 10 AM. The sun doesn’t warm you. It will melt you like chocolate. By 11:30 AM, I’m back in my room, air conditioning on Arctic, lying on top of the covers like a tourist casualty. My phone says it’s 33°C. It feels like standing too close to an oven.
I’m Jamaican. I should be fine. I’m not fine.
The World Meteorological Organization defines extreme heat as sustained temperatures above 35°C with high humidity. September in Cancún qualifies.
Here’s what worked:
5:30 to 7:30 AM: Beach. The water is bath-warm, flat calm. Seaweed floats in patches, dark and stringy, but navigable. I swim parallel to shore, watching the sky lighten from charcoal to pink to that brutal blue that promises heat. Sometimes I see other early risers. Mostly hotel staff finishing night shifts. A police officer nods when he passes by (they sometimes patrol the area). It’s reassuring, not intrusive.
7 AM to 9 AM: Breakfast, then one dip in the ocean before the sun becomes violent.
11 AM to 4 PM: I surrender. The room. The lobby bar with its industrial AC. Often skipping lunch.
4:30 PM onward: The pool, then evening entertainment, then bed by 11:30 PM because 5:30 AM comes fast.
September isn’t peak season for a reason. Hurricane season officially runs from June through November, with September seeing the highest storm activity according to NOAA. I gambled. No hurricanes hit during my week, but afternoon rain came twice, hard and sudden. The streets in Valladolid flooded. The pool bar closed for forty minutes. It’s a trade-off: 50% cheaper than December, 100% more weather uncertainty.
If you’re heat-sensitive like me, September will limit your outdoor time to early morning and late afternoon. Plan accordingly or book November instead.
The adults-only policy helps during peak heat. No pool toys, no splashing games, no children’s entertainment disrupting the quiet. Just grown-ups reading by the pool or napping on loungers, everyone mostly agreeing that 2 PM is not the time for voluntary movement. But a few stragglers are playing pool or beach volleyball.
The Sargassum Conversation
The seaweed is real. Let’s not pretend.
Sargassum, a type of brown algae, washes ashore across the Caribbean from March through October, peaking in summer months. The Gulf of Mexico and Caribbean Sea have experienced unprecedented blooms since 2011, driven by warming waters and agricultural runoff. Cancún’s hotel zone gets hit. Riu Latino’s beach gets hit.
During my stay, resort staff raked every morning around 6 AM. By noon, new patches arrived. Dark, stringy, smelling faintly of salt and something organic breaking down. Not the rotting-fish horror some reviews describe. Just… present.
I swam anyway. Mornings, the water was clearest. I’d walk north along the beach, find a clearer patch, swim parallel to shore. The seaweed brushed my legs occasionally. I’ve touched worse things in Jamaican harbours.
The pools offered an alternative. Multiple pools, multiple swim-up bars, zero seaweed. The main pool stays packed from 11 AM to 3 PM, couples claiming loungers like territory. I preferred late afternoon, when the crowd thinned, and the bartender remembered I drank palomas, not margaritas.
If pristine turquoise water defines your Caribbean fantasy, September is not your month. The photos won’t match the brochure. Adjust expectations or book December through February instead.
There were occasional police patrols on the beach throughout my entire stay. Part of Mexico’s tourism security initiative, Operation Tourist Shield, was launched after violence in tourist areas in 2021. For solo travellers, especially women.
The Room Situation (and Two Days of Shampoo Showers)
The room is bigger than my Toronto apartment. Ocean view, balcony, king bed, minibar restocked daily, liquor dispenser that pours heavily. Air conditioning is powerful enough to make July feel like March. I’m happy.
Until I run out of shower gel on day two!
I reported it via the app, but nada. I shower with shampoo. Full body. It works, sort of. My skin feels tight.
Day 4: still no shower gel. And I am running out of shampoo, too.
But I met a room attendant, not assigned to my room, who saw me gesturing desperately near the supply cart. She doesn’t speak English. I point at shampoo. She understands. Disappears. Returns with three bottles of shower gel and refills the one in my room, along with the shampoo.
I tip her $5 Cad.
Housekeeping restocking is inconsistent. Multiple online reviews mention similar issues. Pack backup toiletries or grab extras at check-in. The rooms themselves are excellent. The service is hit-or-miss.
The balcony became my afternoon refuge. Although not the oceanfront, it was enough.
Where You’ll Actually Meet People While at Hotel Riu Latino
Not at dinner. Not at breakfast. At the swim-up bar and pools at 2PM. I ended up talking to a couple from Montreal about whether September was stupid or brilliant.
The main pool’s swim-up bar is where solo travellers stop being solo, at least temporarily. No formal setup, no reservations, no pressure. You wing it, order a paloma, and eat grilled chicken off a paper plate. Someone asks where you’re from. You ask about their day trip to Tulum. Suddenly, you’re making dinner plans at the Steakhouse with six people who didn’t know each other yesterday.
The adults-only atmosphere helps. No parents chasing toddlers, no family dynamics to navigate. Just adults in various stages of vacation relaxation (read: buzzed) looking for conversation that doesn’t involve work emails or mortgage payments.
The nightly entertainment helps too. Professional shows at 9:30 PM, outdoor amphitheatre, theme nights rotating through Mexican fiesta, Caribbean night, and 80s music. I went alone. Sat alone. Left alone. But the crowd energy made it feel communal, not lonely.
There is also the 24-hour option that comes with late-night snacks.
Other entertainment options:
- Water aerobics (10 AM daily, I never went)
- Beach volleyball (too hot, too coordinated)
- Dance classes (salsa, bachata, I watched once)
- Live music at lobby bar (piano, acoustic, pleasant background)
- Onsite waterpark
Riu Latino isn’t a singles resort or a party hotel. If you need a built-in social scene, book elsewhere. If you’re comfortable creating your own experience, with occasional swim-up bar friendships, it works.
Twelve Hours to Chichen Itza (and Barely Seeing Valladolid)
The tour bus picks up at 6:30 AM. I’m not the only solo traveller. Expect couples, three families, and groups of friends. The guide, Ramiro, goes between English and Spanish intentionally and makes dad jokes about Mayan mathematics.
Three hours to Chichen Itza. I doze. The landscape outside is flat, scrubby, and intriguing. And for me, a reminder of Jamaica.
We arrive at 10:15 AM. Already hot. By 11:30 AM, when Ramiro finishes explaining the acoustics of El Castillo (clap your hands, hear the quetzal bird call back), I’m drenched. Heat radiates off the stone. Tourists cluster in sliver-thin shadows. I drink three bottles of water in ninety minutes.
Is it worth it? Yes. But pack electrolyte tablets and water bottles from the hotel. Wear a hat that actually covers your neck. Accept that midday Yucatán heat is not theoretical.
What to bring:
- Wide-brim hat
- Sunscreen (reapply every hour, you’ll sweat through it)
- Comfortable shoes (lots of walking, uneven stone)
- Water bottle (refill stations available)
- Electrolyte packets (Pedialyte, Liquid IV, something)
- Light rain jacket (September)
The Valladolid stop happens after lunch. Colonial architecture, colourful streets, and a cenote for swimming. I see most of it through rain-streaked bus windows. The downpour started while we were at the cenotes about 20 minutes after we arrived. Streets flood fast, water rising past curbs, turning intersections into shallow rivers. We huddle under covered walkways. The buildings are pink and yellow and beautiful, slick with rain. I take three photos and climb back on the bus.
September weather is unpredictable. Book the tour anyway. Chichen Itza delivers even in the heat. Valladolid might not cooperate. That’s the gamble.
The Timing Question
Best time to visit Riu Latino: November or April. Warm, dry, less sargassum, fewer hurricanes. Prices are higher than in September, lower than at Christmas.
Peak season: December through March. Perfect weather, maximum prices, crowded resort.
When I went: Early September. Shoulder season. The gamble.
Why September works:
- 50-60% cheaper than peak
- Fewer crowds (resort maybe 60% full)
- Easier à la carte réservations
- The ocean is the warmest.
- Adults-only means quieter baseline (no spring break energy, no family chaos)
Why September doesn’t work:
- Hurricane season (peak month)
- Heat oppressive midday
- Sargassum present
- Afternoon rain likely
- Some facilities are under maintenance.
The trade-off paid off for me. Your heat tolerance may vary. Budget-conscious travellers who can handle weather uncertainty should consider it. Everyone else should book November.
What I’d Actually Tell a Friend
Book Riu Latino if you want an adults-only all-inclusive that doesn’t require constant decisions. The food is fine, no complaints. The beach is beautiful and normal. Normal is good. The social scene exists, but you’ll have to create it.
The adults-only designation matters more than you’d think. No crying at breakfast. No pool volleyball tournaments organized by overeager activity coordinators. No parents giving you sympathetic looks at dinner because you’re eating alone (they’re too busy enjoying their kid-free vacation).
Go in November if you can. September if you’re cheap and heat-tolerant like me (who am I kidding, I’m not heat-tolerant).
Pack backup toiletries. Get to Flavours early. Book Chichen Itza via trip.com. They will pick you up. And food is included. Swim before 8 AM. Accept that midday belongs to air conditioning.
The shampoo showers make better stories than perfect service ever could.
And that 6 AM beach, empty except for seaweed and the birds. That’s worth the flight from Toronto alone.
