Charlie's - Tulum, Quintana Roo, Mexico

Hauling all our stuff to the bus is a pain, and we get there early because we're not taking any chances. The bus station is not so comfortable, so we sit for an hour at Charlie's for ceviche and beer. It's only fitting for our last Mexican meal.

The ceviche is bland, especially the rubbery shrimp. The sauce is on the side which makes the whole plate pointless. Not ideal, but it hardly matters – we are too in love with Tulum to care.

Tulum is our fourth major vacation this year. We have not caught a travel bug; we have caught a travel plague, a chronic disease that turns us into travelers of super-human stamina. We learn to instantly regenerate anything lost, from money to sleep to strength.

They say the sky's the limit, but it's not a limit anymore. The sky is the conduit to the world, a portal through which you pass, in a metal tube full of fuel, squeezed between people full of hot air, for the shortest and sweetest glimpse at a different world.

But when will enough be enough? The places left to see, the life left to live holds endless possibilities. I have spent my entire life exploring all that potential; moving from one itinerary to the next. But when do we stop trying to see the rest of the world and start retracing our steps? It's been so long since I've been so in love with a place, and I am in love with Tulum for all that it is and for all that it is not.

I want to return to Tulum, again and again, until I'm too old to move. To build up a rapport with a special town, to get to a point where it all becomes beautifully familiar is all too tempting, but the Australian outback beckons, and Spain calls strongly to this senora. Come what may, go where I may, Tulum will always be with me, and Tulum will always call me back.