Progreso

At Celestun, the kind of place so beautiful it almost dares you to find a cynical remark, the flamingos are the flamboyant, salmon-colored celebrities of the lagoon. Arriving early in the morning not only ensures front-row seats to their breakfast show, but grants you bragging rights to saying you beat Instagrammers and fanny-packed birdwatchers alike. Renting a boat with a local guide (roughly $50 USD for a tour lasting about two hours, so skip that fancy tequila the night before and save your pesos) is your ticket into their watery backstage, where brilliant pink flocks pirouette and gossip loudly like retirees at a Miami brunch. Bring binoculars, sunscreen (flamingos mock sunburnt tourists mercilessly), and camera gear-though honestly, you'll never quite capture their awkward elegance. Plan at least a few days in advance, especially during peak flamingo season from November through March, or risk spending your morning watching tourists watching possibly imaginary flamingos. Sure, birdwatching often reeks of khaki shorts and quirky hats, but here, surrounded by shimmering turquoise waters and mangrove forests that look like Tolkien's recreational side project, flamingo-watching suddenly seems alluringly cool. And frankly, watching thousands of pink birds elegantly strutting in absurd choreography is the kind of surreal, slightly ridiculous spectacle that'll be barstool storytelling fuel for years-worth every penny, mosquito bite, and faint whiff of guano.