by Counting the colors on Lake Bacalar was becoming a bit of an obsession. I was sipping coffee on the deck with a young woman who clearly knew her Pantone charts. “That’s the bluefish going into Reflex,” she said. It’s easy to see why Bacalar is known as the Laguna de Siete Colores (lagoon of seven colors).
The town sits right up on the furthest tip of Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula, close to the border with Belize and just a four-hour drive from Cancun. Eventually, the shoulder-to-shoulder all-inclusive resorts of the Riviera Maya fall away and a sleepier, slower-paced Mexico emerges.
People are always trying to punch Bacalar. It has been called the new Tulum and the Maldives of Mexico and has historically been popular with backpackers, but it is becoming much more than that. This small town with a large lagoon has its own atmosphere and character.
Bacalar is named a Pueblo Magico (magic town) by the Mexican government in recognition of its cultural, historical and architectural importance. It’s a sleepy place that still feels local. Smoke blown from copals (burnt to keep mosquitoes away) waft from buckets. Dogs bark on the sidewalk. There are a few boutiques selling excellent beachwear, incense and crystal (so far, so Tulum), but shopping isn’t the biggest draw here.
Although the street food is still the most popular marquesitas (rolled crispy pancakes filled with Nutella, cheese or fruit) and gentlemen (Mexican corn on the cob), new food outlets are pushing the boundaries.
El Manati, an immersive cafe/art gallery/shop is great for breakfast or brunch. Nao Bacalar is the place for sushi and cocktails with a side order of yoga classes (owner Oscar is also known for his mezcal), and Barba Negra serves great fish tacos. Jaguara is hopelessly romantic, located by the lake and serving fresh fish, excellent ceviche and hibiscus-heavy cocktails.
But when it comes to truly authentic Mexican food, there’s Nixtamal. Fish on a bed of grilled watermelon with parmesan, pesto and picante sauce? Honestly, it’s unbelievably good. Everywhere you go, a generous bowl of baked nachos with salsa and guacamole appears out of nowhere. Going hungry is not an option.
There’s a fort and a museum but no one really comes here for the history lessons – it’s all about the lake, 37 miles long and just over a mile wide. It is fed by underground rivers so that you can find regular cenotes, sinkholes that can drop to a depth of 90 meters. You can swim it and SUP (Stand up paddleboard) it; snorkel it and dive it; borrow a Kayak or go on a sightseeing boat trip to the nicest spots.
But be careful. Bacalar is famous for its stromatolites, rock-like structures made by microbes dating back 3.5 billion years – the oldest evidence of life on Earth. They look like a giant cauliflower pushing up through the water, and are very susceptible to environmental damage.
In 2015 a pollution alert was issued for the lake and by 2020 there was a real danger that the aqua, turquoise, cyan and teal lake could turn into a brown-brown lake. Fortunately, thanks to growing awareness and care, Bacalar is withdrawing.
As part of this movement, new hotels tend to feature sustainable architecture and regenerative hospitality, supporting the local community and protecting nature. Naya Bacalar opened a year ago, an eco-chic enclave with eight tented jungle rooms (some with plunge pools). Five more rooms are coming soon on the lake side.
Meanwhile Boca de Agua opened in October 2023 on an 82 acre site of largely untouched land that will be a conservation and regeneration programme. Not a single mangrove plant was removed or damaged during construction. Frida Escobedo, its architect, has chosen tropical modernism with 26 large tree houses made of chicozapote hardwood certified by the local Forest Stewardship Council on columns above the jungle floor. The Mexico City architect is best known for her urban designs, including London’s Serpentine Pavilion in 2018 and the new contemporary art wing at New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art.
I stayed at Our Habitas Bacalar. This view of the sustainable luxe brand (one of four in Mexico) is similar to Naya. More than 30 A-tented rooms float above the ground, reducing the impact on the landscape. Some of them hung over the lagoon itself but my room was cradled in the jungle, with only occasional monkeys looking out. Construction here may be light on the ground, but it’s heavy on animal comfort – artisan rugs, blankets and cushions keep things well; mini bars are well stocked and outdoor showers are powerful. At night, tiny candles light the path to your door.
When you’re not in your room, windsurfing is a good way to explore the coves around the lagoon, some with small jetties; others with hammocks swing over the water.
A movement class (yoga, mindful movement, dance) takes place at civil time 9am. The breakfast that follows, like all the food here, consists of generous portions of unpolished local produce, cooked to perfection. The usual hipster options (avo toast, chia pudding) also come Chilaquiles (tortilla with avocado, tomato, egg; a bit like breakfast nachos) and motuleno toast (fried eggs with black beans, cheese and cream). For lunch or dinner, the smoked aguachile (like ceviche, but shrimp) beef tataki and wood-fired fish are particularly punchy. The deck is the only place for sunbathers and Baja el Sol (mezcal syrup, lime and red pepper) creates a warm glow as the night cools.
Group activities here have an appropriately “Tulum” feel – sound healing, crystal kayaking, water meditation. The temazcal ritual, however, runs deeper. This is a traditional Mayan ceremony, held in a tiny, dark hut covered in white woven blankets – a close cousin to the sweat lodge of North America. Ceremonies can last for several hours; the heat is intense – and those are just the physical challenges. Temazcal is traditionally a loose ritual; let go of fear and everything that holds you back, under the guidance of the Temazcalera or Temazcalero (shamans).
Days passed into one another as I noticed less and less: a vine bending up the straw with baby blue flowers; legged iguana; another shade of blue on the lake.
On my last evening in Bacalar, I sat on the dock, watching the moon sweep across the lake. “Sailor Blue and Abalone,” I said to myself, then shook off the thought. You shouldn’t really label magic.
Jane Alexander was a guest at Our Habitas Bacalar, which offers doubles from $265 (£210), including breakfast and a weekly program of events. Temazcal rituals $90 (£71) per person.
