Looking out at a wooden dock stretching into a blue sea at sunrise.

The Good Life in Holbox, Mexico

Mark Stewart Destinations Leave a Comment

Saturday. 10-22-22. Holbox, Mexico.

It’s hot. So hot.

Im laying in a hammock, sipping an ice-cold beer, watching a giant crocodile sun its head in the lagoon in below me.

We finally made it back to Mexico.

When 2020 happened and the pandemic spread, we were in Bogotá, desperately trying to figure out our plans.

Initially, we were to head to Mexico, on the Yucatan, to relax for a couple of weeks. From there, we had an apartment rented back on familiar turf in Oaxaca, to get to work on the guides.

Ultimately, with too many unknowns in the air, we pulled the plug on Mexico and made our way back to Canada. Since then, we dreamed of the tacos and sand we so desperately craved.

And here we are. Finally.

Graffiti of a crocodile painted bright blue, pink and yellow.
Graffiti in Holbox

We’re sitting on the balcony of a quiet AirBNB on Isla Holbox, a tiny sandbar of an island north of the Yucatan Peninsula. A two-hour drive and a half-hour boat ride from Cancun.

After the longer-than-expected travel day from San Salvador, we got straight to the tacos. Pork grilled over charcoal, chopped haphazardly, and thrown on warm corn tortillas with the usual smattering of toppings.

And today, so far, we’ve done very little aside from eating fresh fruit, swimming in the impossibly blue water, drinking cold beer, and relaxing.

We’re in our happy place.

Wednesday. 10-26-22. Holbox, Mexico.

There’s not much to add. The week thus far has been exactly what we expected — what we needed.

Our days are a mix of swimming, reading, swaying in hammocks and escaping the heat in our air-conditioned room. Evenings consist of eating everything we possibly can, tacos and other treats of all kinds.

A wooden bench with a plate of tacos, a plate of tortillas and a bowl of red broth. Hands can be seen holding cans of beer.
Birria Tacos

Holbox (pronounced ‘hole-bosh’) itself is the perfect escape. Its proximity to Cancun is just right. Close enough to reach without too much effort but far enough to keep the party goons away.

It’s quiet here. There are almost no vehicles aside from golf carts and side-by-sides. The roads are unpaved, everything is sand. Mangrove forests spread outward from the lagoons dotting the island. Bioluminescent algae light up the water in that magical blue shimmer.

The stray dogs are friendly.

This is one of those special places where time doesn’t matter. You could stay for weeks or months and remain in a perfect rhythm of relaxation, without a care for the outside world.

It’s time now to get back to the important work. The mid-afternoon, pre-nap swim.

Our time here is precious. I won’t waste any more.

About the Author

Mark Stewart

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Mark is a multi-passionate creative with a fascination for getting the most out of the human experience. While he isn't chasing adventures around the globe as a travel journalist and photographer, he works as a freelance writer, private chef and web developer.

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