Fly me to... Mexico
A land of fire and dreams, Mexico unfolds like an incantation. The air feels thick with salt, Palo Santo, and cacao. Landscapes shift from desert to lagoon, sacred city to endless ocean. In the distance, children’s laughter, the hum of a marimba, the memory of a people who still dance in the dust. Every step is a trace, Maya stones, Diego Rivera’s murals, the scent of blue corn and burnt earth. We begin in Oaxaca, deep in the mountains where mezcaleros tend to both flame and silence. Then comes Mexico City, magnetic and alive, before drifting south to the Riviera Maya and its sun-soaked forests. The journey ends on Holbox, an island where time softens into silver light. Each stop, a new texture, a new breath. Mexico, sensual, solar, and sacred.
A country you feel before you understand
We begin in Oaxaca, where the earth still burns with the fire of mezcaleros. In the villages, agave smoke drifts between the hills. We taste a handcrafted mezcal, feel the heat of the oven, and listen to the silence of the mountains. Next comes Mexico City, a capital alive with art and energy, Diego Rivera’s murals tell the story of a people in motion. The city hums with life: morning coffee in Roma Norte, a wander through Coyoacán’s markets, sunset drinks above rooftops of tin and light. Then we head to the Riviera Maya, that bright ribbon where jungle meets sea. We dive into a crystal cenote, walk through ancient temples, and share lunch barefoot in Tulum.
Here, everything breathes, the sea, the colors, the golden dust. We travel through Mexico like a heartbeat, raw, sacred, and alive.
We love the Mexico for…
Deep in the mountains, palenques open onto red earth and ember. We watch agaves slow-roast in the pits, taste mezcal still warm from the still. The smoke, the dry air, the mineral bite, everything here speaks of a sacred craft.
In the lagoon of seven colors, the water is so clear it feels alive. Between the stromatolites, billion-year-old formations, you swim through another time. Calm, ancient, and quietly transformative.
In the heat of the Yucatán, pyramids rise from the jungle. At Cobá, Tulum, or Chichén Itzá, you walk among stones carved with gods and stars. The air hums, monkeys call in the distance, and the ancient cosmos seems to breathe through every stone.
An organic cathedral of glass and rope, poised between dream and architecture. SFER IK isn’t visited, it’s felt, light, texture, and nature intertwined in perfect balance.
Beneath the jungle, the earth opens up. Cool water, shifting light, suspended silence. To swim in a cenote is to enter another world, a place of mystery, reflection, and divine calm.
As night falls, the jungle lights up. Azulik’s terraces come alive with global DJs and barefoot dancers. Music, sea breeze, stars, the rhythm takes over, and time simply fades.
Weisse’s selection
South of Oaxaca, the road narrows between cacti and hills before plunging toward the Pacific. In Zipolite, El Alquimista watches over a raw stretch of beach rimmed with rock and wind. Here, nothing tries to tame nature, cabanas blend into greenery, evenings glow by candlelight, and days unfold between yoga, surf, and quiet reading under the palms. Dinner is grilled fish by the sea, waves keeping time with conversation. In the morning, fishermen pull in their nets, dogs sleep in the sand, and the sun rises at its own pace. Inland, the palenques open their doors: mezcal distilleries where roasted agave smoke mingles with the scent of hot earth. A place to return to your body, your breath, your being.
In the heart of the historic center, facing the cathedral, Círculo Mexicano reimagines the art of staying in the city. Behind its 19th-century façade, the hotel by Ambrosi Etchegaray blends concrete, volcanic stone, and light-filled patios. The minimalist rooms open onto a peaceful void, almost monastic. The rooftop reveals a panorama of steeples, tin rooftops, and distant mountains. Breakfast unfolds among jacaranda blossoms before a wander through Roma’s galleries or Coyoacán’s artisan markets. By evening, guests linger on the terrace, a glass of pulque in hand, as the city lights up like a silent stage.
Bacalar’s lagoon isn’t read, it’s watched. Its shades shift from turquoise to cobalt, like ink poured over water. Boca de Agua blends in without disturbing it — villas on stilts open to the jungle, alive with wind and birdsong. Each treehouse plays with light, wood, stone, and local textures. Mornings invite kayaking or sailing; swimming among stromatolites, silent witnesses to the world’s origins. By nightfall, dinner unfolds by the water, local fare, garden herbs, nothing else. Rise early, the lagoon changes with each breath, a living kaleidoscope.
Azulik isn’t a hotel, it’s another world, born from Eduardo Roth Neira’s imagination. You enter as if crossing into a dream. Wooden walkways coil through the trees, suspended nests open to the sea, and night arrives without electricity, letting nature dictate its rhythm. By day, you cycle to the Mayan ruins of Tulum or explore SFER IK, an organic cathedral of glass, rope, and light. By evening, drums echo with the waves, rituals follow, cacao, incense, ancient chants. Here, time dissolves. Life feels half awake, bathed in milky light under a sky dense with stars.
Holbox reveals itself after a slow crossing through mangroves and clouds of flamingos. An island without cars, where you wander barefoot or by buggy between endless beaches and colorful villages. Nomade Holbox embodies this spirit, raw wood, woven hammocks, light filtered through palms. By day, you swim in shallow waters that seem infinite. At night, the sea glows with bioluminescent plankton, each step paints a constellation. From sunrise yoga to mezcal cocktails, from silence to the strum of a local guitar, Holbox needs no words. It’s a place you breathe in. A pause of light where you slowly learn to fade, softly.
The story
“In Mexico, nothing is faked. People truly look at you, with a kind of honesty that strips everything back. A smile, a glass of mezcal, and the conversation flows as if we’d known each other forever. There’s something disarming about that kind of simplicity.
This country is a living material. Everything speaks, the light, the dust, the hum of the markets, the scent of burnt agave. You quickly realize Mexico isn’t trapped in its traditions; it keeps reinventing them. Between an artist’s studio, a raw-designed hotel, and a party that carries on until dawn, there’s always the same pulse, free, sincere, deeply human.
When you leave, you carry on your skin the feeling of having touched something real.”
— Olivier Weisse
Localisation
Dreaming of a tailor-made journey through Mexico? With Weisse curating every detail, all that’s left is to feel, to listen, to taste, and let the world move through you. Ready to experience Mexico in its truest form?