Cozumel: Diving Into Myself

Mar 14, 2025

Cozumel was a brief stop on my journey—a small, quiet island I came to with a very specific goal: to get my diving certification. Without realizing it, I wasn’t just diving into the ocean, but into myself. Six days that I thought would be way too long turned out to be exactly the time I needed to discover something surprising about what drives me and what makes me feel at home. Here are a few moments I captured through my lens during my time in Cozumel, an island of unexpected insights.

📍 Cozumel, Mexico | 09/11/2022

Arriving in Cozumel – A Wall in the Sea Taught Me When to Say No

I arrived in Cozumel, ticking another item off my list. And not just any item—one of the most significant ones: a diving course. It was something I had always wanted to do, and here, it was much cheaper than back home. Rumor had it that Cozumel was home to one of the most beautiful dive resorts in the world, if not the most beautiful.

Before coming, I had heard about an Israeli diving school offering courses at relatively low prices compared to the local market. Surprising, I know. Their course lasted three days and started every Monday. Since I only managed to get to Cozumel on Monday afternoon, I figured I’d have to look for another option. But as luck would have it, they told me that this week, they were opening an extra course on Wednesday. Thank you, universe.

Some friends told me that six days in Cozumel would be too much—that there wasn’t much to do here in the evenings, that it wasn’t like Playa del Carmen, which was livelier. But something told me this was exactly the amount of time I needed. Besides the diving course, I wanted to explore the island a bit, maybe rent a scooter and roam around.

While I was in Playa, I met an Israeli guy who lived in Cozumel. Out of politeness, I mentioned I was coming, since he always used to say, “The moment you get to Cozumel, let me know.” Truthfully, I love my alone time, and I love peace and quiet. I wondered if I was about to give both of those up for the next few days.

He took me to the coolest spot on the island—The Spot. Tourists call it The Wall, because, well, it’s literally a wall. It’s probably the most romantic place on the island, with the most breathtaking sunsets. People sit on the wall, drink beer, smoke weed, and jump into the water with a snorkel to see exotic fish. It’s a magical place.

He jumped into the water, and I was supposed to follow. I felt that rush of excitement, like before a bungee jump or a zipline—but this time, it felt different. I was actually scared. I suddenly realized that I had never snorkeled before, so I had no idea how to handle it if something went wrong.

He explained what to do and told me that the most important thing was to relax. And that was exactly my problem. I was used to jumping into open water with a life vest, and here I was, without even fins, in the open sea. Not relaxed at all. He was a diving instructor, and there were plenty of other experienced people around, but something in me said—not today. I wasn’t saying no forever, just not today.

We agreed to practice snorkeling in shallow water the next day, and only once I felt comfortable would I take on The Wall. Stay tuned.

📍 Cozumel, Mexico | 10/11/2022

You Can’t Be Both

I think something’s happening to me. Last night, I slept without air conditioning. By choice. Am I getting used to Mexico? What’s next? Will I start being late to things??? Hyperventilates into a paper bag.

Back to Cozumel: I walked around a bit last night, and it’s definitely a quiet island. Too quiet. I’m used to the noise and chaos of Playa. It feels like my heart is already taken—I don’t have room to love Cozumel. Or maybe I just don’t connect with it as much.

Yesterday, I told the Israeli guy I wanted to rent a scooter, and his response was, as always, “I know someone cheap.” Nice to hear. In the same breath, he offered to take me around the island on his own scooter.

I wondered how much my solitude was worth to me, and then he pulled out his secret weapon: “I make an amazing shakshuka. We’ll eat, then we’ll go explore.”

On any other day—you had me at shakshuka. But here, it felt like I wanted to be alone.

Determined, shakshuka-less, I rented a scooter (at the same cheap price, without his help) and hit the road. “I’m a strong, independent woman!” I told myself—while struggling to open a bottle cap and asking for help.

The friendly Mexican guy at the rental shop gave me a map and pointed out the best spots to visit. I told him I planned to go to Passion Island (because, let’s be honest, that name is awesome), and he explained that I’d need a 4x4 to get there—no scooters allowed. Bummer.

“But if you’re looking for passion, there’s a nudist beach around here.”
“No, thanks. I already have enough nightmares at night.”

Okay, so plan B: head north to the lighthouse. He gently advised against it—turns out, that’s where all the drugs come into the island. It’s packed with soldiers and police, and tourists have no business being there. Dodged a bullet.

So, I took my map, my tiny scooter, and rode along the eastern side of the island, looping around the south and back to the center. There’s only one main road encircling the island—impossible to get lost. Along the way, there were restaurants, viewpoints, and stunning beaches.

In Playa, shop owners stand outside and try to lure you in. Here, they literally stand in the middle of the road, flagging you down. And you know what? It works. Everywhere I stopped, I was welcomed warmly. There aren’t many tourists around right now, so maybe they still have patience. Or maybe they’re just genuinely nice.

Even when I declined to buy anything, they placed a towel on my scooter seat so it wouldn’t get scorching hot in the sun while I was parked. That little gesture? Melted my heart.

At some places, I ate. At others, I drank. At some, I went into the water—until the rain started. A light drizzle for a few minutes, but it felt like painful, deadly hail. I was already on my way back anyway, perfect timing for a nap.

"I’m driving in circles!"
"Yeah, well, it’s an island. Or would you rather be drowning?"
Cracking myself up.

Back at the scooter rental shop, the air smelled strongly of weed, and the guy at the counter offered me a shot of tequila. I told him I preferred mezcal.
"No problem, we’ll do mezcal too."

After a magical nap, I was greeted not with one, but two shakshukas (there’s your double ‘both’), and a few friends. Everyone here is into diving—it’s no coincidence they live in Cozumel.

After a few beers, they explained to me that if I’m a Playa person, I can’t be a Cozumel person too.

One of them said: “You can’t be both.”

In this case—I don’t even want to be.

📍 Cozumel, Mexico | 11/11/2022

Rented a Scooter

Riding around Cozumel on my scooter, I stumbled upon all kinds of beautiful beaches and hidden spots. Some places I stayed for a while, others I just snapped a photo and moved on. I realized I was searching for something—a place where I’d actually want to stop and stay.

I started thinking about why none of the beaches I’d seen so far felt right, and then it hit me—music. I was missing the music. The music that plays everywhere in Mexico—blasting from every shop, every restaurant, every bar, every home.

I’m in love with reggaeton. There, I said it. The most positive brainwashing I’ve ever experienced. And now, suddenly, in this quiet little island, I was missing it.

Neta Barzilai and Omer Adam have been replaced by Karol G and Bad Bunny. How can you not move to this rhythm? How can you resist getting swept up in these sensual beats when literally every song is about, well… sex? And in the sexiest language in the world, no less.

Maybe it’s the heat, but everything here feels hotter. The people are warm, the vibe is electric. Everyone here knows how to move. They dance like they were born with it—it’s in their blood. Men and women, young and old.

📍 Cozumel, Mexico | 12/11/2022

Diving Course

Today, I’m finishing a three-day diving course. The first thing that crossed my mind? I’d have to wash my hair three days in a row.

I quickly discovered how easily it gets tangled in the dive mask. And one of the required skills is removing the mask underwater, breathing without it for a full minute, and then putting it back on. This was the exercise I dreaded the most—because, let’s be real, water in your eyes and nose is not exactly calming.

We did the drill. Of course, my hair didn’t cooperate, so instead of doing it once, I ended up doing it four times (!). By the fourth round, I barely even cared.

Another thing I discovered about diving? It’s probably not for me. I’m used to smiling all the time, laughing, making jokes—and underwater, you can’t do that. Every time I smiled, my mask filled up with water. And, well… I’m me. So that happened a lot.

The drills were kind of funny, and my instructor was hilarious. I was fascinated by how his hair floated in the water, and I couldn’t help but think that if I let mine loose, it would probably get tangled up in a passing boat or something.

I felt like a little kid at a playground—but diving is for serious people. People who have full control over their breathing, who can regulate themselves underwater with ease. Not me. I was flipping, rolling, twisting from side to side. You should’ve seen it—it was priceless.

Like the troublemaker in class, I was the one everyone was waiting on to complete each skill. One exercise required lying flat on the ocean floor, keeping your fins steady while lifting your chest using only your breath control.

I struggled. I kept rolling over. It freaked me out to have my back to the group. And then—just as I was overthinking everything—the instructor told us to surface.

Back on the boat, I told him I was frustrated because I couldn’t get it right.
"It’s fine," he said, "What you did was actually the next level of the skill."

Oh. Nice.

I still haven’t gone back to The Wall—this course runs from morning till night. Suddenly, I’m in a classroom, taking notes, studying for exams, asking questions. In the middle of my vacation.

But honestly? Worth every second.

📍 Cozumel, Mexico | 13/11/2022

Everyone Dives

I wandered around in the evenings, and most places felt empty. At first, I thought maybe it was just the season, or that the weekend hadn’t arrived yet. But after a few days, I realized—there are plenty of people here. They’re just all out diving.

In the mornings, the dive shops are packed. Everyone heads to the shore with their gear. If you’re in Cozumel, you’re probably a diver.

When I started my diving course, they gave me a brand-new wetsuit with a name tag on it. Literally, it had "MAYA" written on it. By now, you know me—nothing ever happens by chance. I felt like I was exactly where I needed to be.

I met people here who taught me so much about myself. They gave me perspective—something I always need.

After my last dive, I truly felt like a fish in water. (Did you really just say that? You can do better.)

Just like when I got on my scooter for the first time, I told myself: "It’s like riding a bike."
No wonder I have no friends.

Bottom line—diving is pure joy. If you haven’t tried it yet, do it. Highly recommended. Hot, cold, whatever—just go.

I even got a compliment on my breathing technique. Seriously considering adding that to my résumé.

We took the boat out to dive at a coral reef. This time, it wasn’t a class—it was just about enjoying the experience. We saw sharks, crabs, and stunningly beautiful fish.

One of the coolest things about diving is that you’re taught to keep your hands clasped together, so you don’t touch anything. From a distance, it looks like someone walking through an art museum. And then I realized—that’s exactly what it is.

We’re just visitors, admiring nature the way we admire art in a museum. No touching, no damaging, no disturbing, no making noise.

I always thought divers were a disturbance to marine life, but now I see that they’re actually its best friends. They respect it the most, care for it, and protect it.

I completed my first certification—Open Water. There are more advanced levels, like Advanced Open Water, Dive Master, Dive Instructor.

Ricardo, my instructor, told me he fell in love with diving and realized he could do it anywhere in the world—work and travel at the same time.

Rings a bell.

The only catch? It’s an (extremely) expensive hobby. Only when you reach instructor level does it really make sense to travel and work at dive shops.

But how amazing is it to reach the other side of the world and find people who are just like me?

Sometimes, you have to go somewhere completely different from what you love to understand exactly what does make you feel alive.

Cozumel, with all its quiet, made me appreciate the noise, the movement, and the energy that made me fall in love with Mexican culture in the first place.

I’m leaving the island knowing one thing for sure—my heart will always beat to the rhythm of reggaeton, even when I’m diving in the silent depths of the ocean.