chapter 23: was it worth it?

weighing the worth of an experience | off-grid in xcalak, mexico & deep in the california kelp forests

Most people have never heard of the tiny 400-person village called Xcalak on the southernmost tip of the Yucatan peninsula’s Costa Maya, a mere 6 miles from the Belize border.

But I can personally confirm that once you’ve visited, it’s the type of place you’ll tell stories about for the rest of your life.

map of the caribbean coast of mexico

Far away from the spring breakers and all-inclusive resorts of Cancun and Tulum, Xcalak is about as remote as you can get while still being notable enough to warrant a twice-per-day public transportation route that meanders down a dirt road sandwiched between mangrove forests and untouched beaches.

Going to Xcalak means going off the grid: no cell service, no ATMs, no pharmacies, no taxis, no nightlife.

It’s just you and your thoughts on an empty beach, staring at waters such an electric shade of aqua you could imagine the universe ran a bright blue highlighter over the reefs of this marine park as if to beg the world to take note.

that highlighter swipe of fluorescent blue

Xcalak is over 7 hours away from the nearest major airport in Cancun, and that’s only if you’re renting a car.

For me, making the journey solo, I decided to go via public transit which entailed:

• 1.5 hour bus from Cancun airport to Playa del Carmen

• 5 hour bus from Playa del Carmen to Bacalar

• 5.5 hours waiting for the next bus: a local colectivo that runs only twice per day, mostly for locals to get from their rural towns to a bigger city for jobs

• 3 hours on the colectivo from Bacalar to Xcalak

• 15 minutes of walking from the center of Xcalak to my hotel, slowly plodding along with my heavy backpacks down an unlit dirt road illuminated only by my iPhone flashlight and the stars that twinkled in a way that only stars in the absolute middle of nowhere can twinkle

After about 15 hours in transit, I arrived to the Flying Cloud Hotel at XTC Dive Center and I flopped onto my bed in exhaustion.

Your first question might be: was it worth it?

My resounding answer would be YES – this off the beaten path slice of paradise not only showed me the most incredible and abundant marine life I have ever seen in a single 3-day period, but also brought me two special new friendships in the form of fellow female divemasters who gave me so much advice and insight into the industry that I hope to enter later this year once I complete my professional diver training this summer.

The ocean was the executive producer of this magical trip: the water gods sent in plentiful marine life on their best, most captivating behavior as if every creature were auditioning for the next Blue Planet documentary.

I’m talking groups of manatees playing together and blindly swimming right into me multiple times, dozens of eagle rays playfully flying across the reef as if the ocean were the sky, giant schools of shiny six-foot long tarpons swirling around us in a tornado, some of the biggest turtles I’ve ever seen, multiple sharks and eels, and even dolphins (and a baby dolphin!!) dancing around beneath the surging waves with us.

Check out my video compilation of the marine life here.

caitlynlubas

A post shared by @caitlynlubas

I still can hardly believe how lucky I was.

So, yes, the incredible display of marine diversity alone, which brought tears to my eyes deep beneath the sea, made the journey well worth it.

But why do we ask that question of “worth” in the first place?

I pondered this question a lot lately.

The main reason I had been convinced to make the trek to Xcalak was just by one strong word of mouth recommendation from a scuba instructor I met back in January who spoke so highly of spending months diving in this small remote town.

She specifically mentioned how Xcalak is one of the few spots in the world where a coral reef exists right beside mangrove trees, making a perfect hotspot for diving with manatees.

So, what if I had made that entire 15 hour solo journey to Xcalak and I didn’t see a single manatee?

Or what if I saw a manatee, but not any eagle rays? Nor dolphins? What if the weather had acted up and dives had to get cancelled, which I was told had happened the week before I arrived?

So many things in life, and especially in travel, are based on timing and luck. Yet, we make long and arduous journeys for the chance of landing perfect timing and conditions that grant us the most enjoyable experience.

I think back to my poorly timed 2018 Japan visit, during which a typhoon cancelled my planned trek up Mt. Fuji and forced us to stay indoors. My impression of Japan was overall dampened (literally and figuratively) due to inopportune timing – and for years, I have had the notion that Japan wasn’t the most worth it due to my coincidental experience. (There’s a whole chapter in my book talking about expectations falling short of reality, using my Japan trip as an example, if you want to read more!)

But in Xcalak, even if I hadn’t had this aquarium-like underwater experience, I think I still could have found beauty in the uniqueness of the remote location.

Each morning, the sun’s rays woke me up as they peeked over the ocean right outside my doorstep.

a photo I took while lying in bed

I reveled in the sweet relief of waking up in a king size bed, in a room all to myself, with a private beach right out front, for only $80 a night (which to me, as a hardcore budget traveler, still felt like a splurge actually 😅).

I happened to be the only person staying in the small 3-room boutique hotel that week. But, there were a dozen people on staff ready to cook me meals, clean my room each morning, secure the premises at night, and take me out on dives that I’ll remember for the rest of my life.

Such a unique stay would have probably been a highlight on its own, even without the spectacular dives.

So, I likely would still say the journey to this remote town is “worth it” – or in Spanish, “vale la pena” which word-for-word translates to “it is worth the pain.”

Why does only pain or struggle prompt us to evaluate worth?

If I went to a beautiful place and had a great time with little effort or cost involved, no one would ask me “was it worth it?”

They would simply assume that yes, it was worth it, since minimal sacrifice was involved in the equation of enjoyment. Easily enjoyable things seem to have inherent obvious worth.

Risky things beg the question of worth. People want to know, did the risk or investment or sacrifice pay off?

The askers want the persuasion and reassurance that neglecting comfort and accepting uncertainty can indeed pay off.

But, there’s no objective “worth it” when our experiences are all relative to our own unique perceptions and circumstances

Many people ask, “Was it worth it?”

But the only question that can truly be answered is, “Was it worth it to you?”

There is no definitive answer to that initial question. All things that are “worth it” are completely relative.

Whether something is worth it to you is a matter of opinion and personal circumstance, not an objective recommendation that can be passed forward to different individuals with unique sets of values and preferences.

For someone who doesn’t dive and is looking for a lively resort city to party in, Xcalak would most certainly not be worth it to visit.

My recent experience cold water diving in the kelp forests of California also elicited the question of “was it worth it?” and made me reflect on the subjective nature of worth.

To people who can’t often travel to tropical places to dive, suiting up in a 7mm wetsuit, hood, and gloves to brave the frigid 55°F ocean in California might certainly be worth the effort, compared to the alternative of not diving at all.

To people who are on a tight budget, the expensive $90 per dive price tag of California (compared to an average price of $30-50 per dive in other cheaper, more tropical parts of the world) might not be worth it at all, especially given the high likelihood for low visibility and cold water temperatures.

To people like me, who usually dive tropically but aren’t particularly budget constrained, I hesitated on whether I would tell friends that this dive trip to the Channel Islands off the coast of California was worth it.

Because I value varied experiences and have a mindset of “I’ll try anything once” – yes, braving the cold to explore a kelp forest for the very first time was worth it.

Because I had always imagined how fun it would be to dive with sea lions, and we lucked out with a handful of very active sea puppies following us around on our first dive, I also would say those few joyous moments made the post-dive shivers well worth it.

Because I wasn’t stressed about money, and because I did the dive with a few friends, we collectively made the decision that putting a damp, cold wetsuit back on our bodies to do a third dive simply wasn’t worth it.

We recognized that whatever we already paid for the dives that day was just a sunk cost, and weighed the immediate outcome of what would be more enjoyable in that moment: soaking our cold-numbed bodies in a hot tub with friends, or plunging back into the icy ocean for the small chance of seeing something new.

To us, the more worthy choice was clear.

So how do we evaluate the worth of an experience?

The main insight I’ve gained from reflecting on my two most recent, contrasting experiences with diving in unique locations is that an experience being “worth it” depends on so many factors, usually at least somewhat out of your control.

Which means, the only thing you can control is your own attitude and perception.

You can choose to focus on the time-consuming or expensive nature of the arduous journey, or you can just be grateful for the special outcomes and rare circumstances at your destination.

You can choose to force yourself to continue with something, even when you know you’re likely not going to enjoy it anymore, or you can cut your losses and tap out early to pursue a more appealing use of your time.

Looking back, I don’t think there’s actually any experience where I’ve concluded, “That was fully not worth it.”

If you adopt the right attitude and mindset, any trip or any experience can be “worth it” in some way. Especially if you have a high personal value for novelty and just trying new things for the sake of living life to its fullest, even experiences that involve sacrifice are just another addition to the collection of experiences that weave the tapestry of your interesting, individual life.

So next time someone asks you if something was “worth it,” think a bit harder before you answer “no” – try to positively spin it and search deeper for any way that you actually can find value in that experience.

Your time is the most finite and valuable resource, so train your mind to evaluate its worth wisely, and be thankful for every second of the journey no matter how much sacrifice is involved.

---

👯‍♀️ join me on an upcoming group trip!

🌌🇮🇸 september 21-26 = iceland: northern lights, geysers, and glaciers

• SOLD OUT! me and 10 ladies - some friends and some complete strangers - will be exploring Iceland and watching the northern lights dance above us. Since my first wellness-oriented trip this past New Year’s Eve went so well, I’m planning on incorporating journaling and self-reflection sessions into this bucket list nature trip too!

  • If you are feeling fomo, I might be able to add more spots if you can confirm by May 18 – so review the itinerary on the trip website and contact me if you’re ready to commit to join!

🇲🇦🐪 october 5-12 = morocco: from the sahara to the sea

• Morocco has always been a dream destination for me, and this is the year I’m making it happen – and I’m inviting you to come along with me! I’m currently sorting through local tour providers to make sure we have a safe experience with a local guide and driver on a roadtrip from the Sahara desert down to the breathtaking Moroccan coastline.

• As soon as the full itinerary is ready, I’ll share a sign up link – but let me know your interest early if you want first dibs!

---

📱let’s connect

If you’ve got feedback or suggestions for topics you want to hear more about, don’t be shy! Reply to this email or DM me:

• Instagram: @caitlynlubas

• Twitter: @caitlynlubas

• LinkedIn: Caitlyn Lubas (feel free to reach out if you want to talk about working remotely, quitting multiple jobs in the span of 3 years, transitioning careers, taking a sabbatical etc!)

---

That’s all for now…

Remember, you are where you go – never stop exploring the world and yourself! 🌎 🌍 🌏

If you enjoy my writing in this newsletter, you’d love my book called You Are Where You Go: A Traveler’s Coming of Age Journey Through 70 Countries and 7 Continents During College.

Feel free to pick up a copy on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or reply if you’re interested in me sending you a signed hardcover or paperback copy :)