Top 10 Digital Nomad Guide: Discover the Best Places to Live and Work for Nomads
Getting around Playa del Carmen has been one of the most entertaining and occasionally infuriating parts of living here as a digital nomad. Every method of transport comes with its own set of quirks, and over the months, I’ve experienced them all—sometimes hilariously, sometimes regrettably.
My first interaction with Playa taxis was a masterclass in what not to do. I had just arrived, bleary-eyed and hauling two suitcases, and flagged down a cab at the ADO bus station. I asked the driver how much to my Airbnb in Colosio, and he hit me with a confident “200 pesos.” Having zero idea of the real rate, I handed it over. Later, I found out the ride should’ve cost no more than 70 pesos. That was the moment I learned: never take a taxi without asking locals what the price should be. Since then, I’ve developed a sixth sense for spotting inflated fares. One driver even had the audacity to quote me 250 pesos for a short ride, to which I responded with a laugh and a dramatic walk away. Pro tip: Playa taxis are abundant, so don’t be afraid to say no and flag the next one. Also, there’s no such thing as a meter here (at least not yet), though I’ve heard rumors they might start installing them next year. We’ll see.
Then came the scooter phase of my Playa life, which I thought would be my ultimate transportation solution. I bought one from Fernando at Beach Scooters for $350 USD. It was perfect—or so I thought. I cruised past traffic, stopped at the beach whenever I wanted, and finally felt like I was living my best life. That is, until the battery betrayed me during a particularly long ride. I was halfway to Playacar when the scooter gave out, leaving me to push it the rest of the way home under the judgmental gaze of passing tourists. Since then, I’ve made it a ritual to charge it religiously and keep an eye on the battery meter like my life depends on it. Despite the occasional hiccup, I’d still say the scooter has been one of the best investments I’ve made in Playa—when it works.
Walking is my go-to for most errands and exploring, but Playa’s weather often has other plans. One sunny day, I decided to walk from my apartment in Colosio to the coworking space. Halfway there, the sky decided to open up. Within minutes, I was soaked, my flip-flops were sliding off my feet, and I looked like I’d lost a battle with a rain cloud. The sidewalks here? Slippery when wet, to say the least. I’ve since learned to carry a small umbrella everywhere—it’s saved me from countless soggy commutes.
Ah, the colectivo experience. For $3 USD, they’re hands-down the cheapest way to get around the Riviera Maya. They’re also the most unpredictable. One ride to Tulum turned into an impromptu food stop when the driver decided he needed tacos. Another time, I ended up standing the entire way to Akumal because every seat was taken, and the driver somehow thought cramming five more people into an already-packed van was a good idea. Despite the chaos, I’ve grown to love them. They’re like Playa’s version of a mystery box—you never know what you’re going to get.
Cycling in Playa sounded like a great idea until it wasn’t. I rented a bike from iPlaya Bikes for $30 USD/month and thought I was set. On my first ride, I confidently pedaled toward the beach, only to discover that Playa’s “bike lanes” are more like suggestions. Dodging taxis, pedestrians, and the occasional rogue dog quickly became an Olympic sport. Then there was the day I came out of a café to find my bike missing. Apparently, even a lock isn’t foolproof. Now, I only park in crowded, visible areas and keep a watchful eye on my wheels.
The ADO buses are one of Playa’s most underrated gems. For $5–$10 USD, they’re air-conditioned, comfortable, and reliable. One time, I booked a ride to Chichén Itzá, only to discover I’d accidentally selected the Spanish-only audio tour. My rusty Spanish made it hilariously hard to follow along, but the air-conditioned ride more than made up for it. I now triple-check every booking to make sure I know what I’m getting into.
And then there’s the ferry to Cozumel, which is both magical and maddening. At $25 USD round trip, it’s not bad for a mini island escape. But the onboard entertainment? Loud enough to make your ears bleed. On one trip, the mariachi band started up, and while I love a good tune, I wasn’t ready for full-volume serenades at 8 a.m. I’ve since learned to bring headphones and a playlist of my own to survive the ride.
Playa del Carmen’s transport system isn’t perfect, but it’s full of personality. From overpriced taxi rides to scooter mishaps and colectivo chaos, every mode of transport comes with its own set of challenges—and stories. And while I’ve had my fair share of frustrating moments, I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. After all, what’s life without a little adventure?
