We arrived in Los Pinos, a beautiful pine forest with cabins hugging the ocean, next to the hidden coastal town of Palma Sola in Veracruz that barely registered on the map. Perfect, I thought — a place with no Wi-Fi, little cell service, and not a single hotel chain in sight. I was looking to get off the grid, somewhere untouched, and this beach didn’t disappoint.
The first thing I noticed was that it had more crabs than people. Hundreds of tiny crabs zipped across the sand like they were late for a meeting, scattering the moment you stepped toward them. They moved with a frenetic energy, like the beach was their city and I was just a guest who needed to behave.
The beach itself was raw and pristine, a stretch of sand bordered by a forest of pine trees, almost like nature’s barricade against civilization. No lifeguards, no umbrellas, just miles of sand and, walking to the beach, I noticed a solitary lighthouse, unsure if it was still active or just a picturesque relic. It didn’t flash or rotate; it simply stood there, like it had been forgotten, overseeing this beautiful beach without purpose or ceremony.
The campgrounds offered two choices: cabins or glamping tents. I’ve always thought “glamping” was an interesting term, a way to experience nature without actually roughing it, my eagle scout comrades would scoff at the very thought. But here, the glamping was just my style, canvas tents with an ocean view, not trying to impress anyone, but just focusing on the .
