As if overhearing my thoughts—Isn't this just a little creepy?—Perlman assures me that Pablo's casa has been exorcised of bad karma; Perlman's sister, Melissa, an American hotelier who runs Amansala, an "eco-chic" resort just up the beach, invited a Tibetan monk to cleanse the energy throughout the property by carrying a torch from room to room and chanting prayers. Perlman, Amansala's adventure guide, says Melissa recently struck a deal with the Mexican government to turn the villa into a high-end hotel called Casa Magna; the guesthouse opened early this year, and the main mansion is slated to open this coming January.

Pablo's villa illuminates one of the irrefutable truths about the Yucatán coast: No matter how far you run, no matter how remote your hideaway, the southward march of development will eventually catch up to you. Tulum in Pablo's day was an isolated fishing town, known for its seaside Maya temples perched on a spectacular headland. Today, it's the hottest real estate market in the burgeoning state of Quintana Roo—one of the fastest-growing travel destinations in the world. Movie stars and yoga masters seek out its thatch-roofed bungalows to bliss out on the town's funky mellow vibe. And tourism development is charging down the coast at such breakneck speed that it raises a question in the mind of every traveler seeking solace in Mexico's easternmost region: Is it possible to escape Cancún? To see for myself, I rented a Jeep there and pointed it south.