by Counting the colors in Lake Bacalar was becoming something of an obsession. He was having coffee on the terrace with a young woman who clearly knew his Pantone charts. “That’s Bluefish moving on to Reflex,” she said. It’s easy to see why Bacalar is known as Laguna de Siete Colores (the lagoon of seven colors).
The city is located right at the far end of Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula, near the border with Belize and a four-hour drive from Cancun. Over time, the all-inclusive resorts of the Riviera Maya disappear and a calmer, calmer Mexico emerges.
People are always trying to pigeonhole Bacalar. It has been called the new Tulum and the Mexican Maldives and has historically been popular with backpackers, but it has become much more than that. This small town with a large lagoon has its own atmosphere and character.
Bacalar has been designated Magic Town (pueblo magico) by the Mexican government in recognition of its cultural, historical and architectural importance. It’s a quiet place that still feels local. Bursts of copal smoke (burned to scare away mosquitoes) billow from the buckets. The dogs lie on the sidewalk. There are a few boutiques selling chic beachwear, incense, and crystals (so far, Tulum), but shopping isn’t the main draw here.
While the most popular street food remains marquesitas (crispy rolled pancakes filled with Nutella, cheese or fruit) and corn (Mexican corn on the cob), new dining establishments are pushing the boundaries.
An immersive cafe/art gallery/boutique, El Manati is great for breakfast or brunch. Nao Bacalar is the place to go for sushi and cocktails accompanied by yoga classes (owner Oscar knows his mezcal, too), while Barba Negra serves excellent fish tacos. Jaguara is hopelessly romantic, located next to the lake and serving fresh fish, excellent ceviche and hibiscus-heavy cocktails.
But for truly creative Mexican food, there’s Nixtamal. Fish on a bed of roasted watermelon with parmesan, pesto and hot sauce? Honestly, it’s incredibly good. Wherever you go, a generous plate of freshly 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 history lessons: it’s all about the lake, 37 miles long and just over a mile at its widest. Underground rivers feed it, so you’ll find regular cenotes, sinkholes that can submerge up to 90 meters deep. You can swim and SUP (Stand up paddleboard); snorkel and dive; borrow a kayak or take a sightseeing boat trip to the most beautiful places.
But be careful. Bacalar is famous for its stromatolites, rock-like structures created by microbes dating back 3.5 billion years – the oldest evidence of life on Earth. They look like giant cauliflowers emerging from water and are very susceptible to environmental damage.
A pollution alert was issued for the lake in 2015 and by 2020 there was a real danger that the turquoise, cyan and blue-green lake would turn into a dirty brown lake. Fortunately, thanks to increased awareness and attention, Bacalar is moving backwards.
As part of this movement, new hotels tend to specialize in sustainable architecture and regenerative hospitality, supporting the local community while protecting nature. Naya Bacalar opened a year ago, an eco-chic enclave of eight tented rooms in the jungle (some with deep pools). Five more rooms will soon be built on the shores of the lake.
Meanwhile, Boca de Agua opened in October 2023 on an 82-acre site of largely unspoiled land that will form a conservation and regeneration programme. Not a single mangrove plant was removed or damaged during construction. Frida Escobedo, its architect, has opted for tropical modernism with 26 spacious tree houses made from sapodilla hardwood certified by the local Forest Stewardship Council, elevated on pillars above the jungle floor. The Mexico City architect is best known for her urban designs, including the Serpentine Pavilion in London in 2018 and the new contemporary art wing of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.
I stayed at Nuestras Habitas Bacalar. This outpost of the sustainable luxury brand (one of four in Mexico) has a similar feel to Naya. More than 30 rooms with type A tents float above the ground, minimizing the impact on the landscape. Some hover over the lagoon itself, but my room was cradled in the jungle, overlooked only by the occasional monkey. Construction here may be light on the terrain, but it requires plenty of creature comforts: handmade rugs, blankets, and cushions keep things comfortable; The minibars are well stocked and the outdoor showers are powerful. At night, small candles illuminate the winding path to the door.
When you’re not in your room, paddle surfing is a good way to explore the coves around the lagoon, some with small jetties; others with hammocks swinging over the water.
A movement class (yoga, mindful movement, dance) takes place at the civilized hour of 9am. Breakfast afterwards, like all the food here, is made up of generous portions of unpretentious and perfectly cooked local produce. All the usual hipster options appear (avocado toast, chia pudding), but also Chilaquiles (omelet with avocado, tomato, egg; a bit like breakfast nachos) and Motuleño toast (fried eggs with black beans, cheese and cream). For lunch or dinner, the smoked aguachile (like ceviche, but with shrimp), beef tataki and wood-fired fish are particularly filling. The terrace is the only place to catch the sunset and a Baja el Sol (mezcal, lime syrup and red pepper) creates a warm glow as the night cools.
The group activities here have an appropriately “Tulum” feel: sound healing, crystal kayaking, water meditation. The temazcal ritual, however, goes deeper. This is a traditional Mayan ceremony, held in a small pitch-dark cabin covered in brightly colored woven blankets, a close cousin of the North American sweat lodge. Ceremonies can last several hours; The heat is intense and those are just the physical challenges. The temazcal is traditionally a liberation ritual; of letting go of fear and everything that holds you back, guided by the temazcalera either temazcalero (shamans).
The days went by as I did less and noticed more: a vine snaking across the thatched roof with sky blue flowers; a crooked-legged iguana; Another shade of blue in the lake.
On my last night in Bacalar, I sat on the dock and watched the moon trace a path across the lake. “Sailor Blue and Abalone,” I told myself, and then dismissed the thought. You really shouldn’t label magic.
Jane Alexander was a guest of Our Habitas Bacalar, which offers double rooms from $265 (£210), including breakfast and a weekly program of events. Temazcal ritual $90 (£71) per person.
