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Another beautiful month in Mexico!

Feels like déjà vu—in the best way.

Last year I started in Mexico City, worked my way south through Oaxaca and Chiapas, and ended in Tulum on the Yucatán. It was incredible and only made me hungry for more. So this year I returned to Oaxaca for Día de Muertos, then flew to Guadalajara and explored a few cities on my way back to CDMX.

Same country, totally different adventure… and only added more places for the next trip.

I spent the first half of November here, perfectly timed for Día de Muertos (the big days are Nov 1–2). Unlike last year’s non-stop partying, this time I joined quieter family celebrations in the cemeteries and comparsas; it felt deeper and just as magical.

I love Oaxaca so much that I stayed two extra weeks. Once the Day of the Dead crowds left, the city exhaled and turned back into the relaxed, walkable “big village” I absolutely love. You can circle the entire historic center in an hour or two, greeting the same shopkeepers and street dogs every morning.

After several locals swore Guadalajara was “better” than Mexico City, I had to see for myself. Mexico’s second-largest city feels proudly tapatío: less international glamour, more deep-rooted Mexican culture. And yes, noticeably edgier.

While I was there, workers prepping the stadium for the 2026 World Cup kept unearthing trash bags with human remains (over 400 and counting). Almost every wall and bench is covered with flyers of missing young people (over 100,000 in total in Mexico with Jalisco being the worst state). The danger isn’t in your face, but the poverty and cartel shadow hang heavy in the air.

Still, the city is fascinating. People here look more European than in southern Mexico, and the Spanish influence is strong. I spent a morning at a charrería training ring, learned the history of the charros, tried (and failed) to lasso a bull, and got to hop back on a horse. A wild mix of beauty and darkness, classic Jalisco.

Guanajuato is pure magic: a colorful old silver-mining city tucked deep in the mountains, with tunnels underneath and houses stacked like pastel Lego bricks on top.

It’s the perfect size: walkable in a few hours, yet endlessly surprising. Music spills from every corner, especially at night during the famous callejoneadas: roving troubadour bands (guitars, cello, violin, big voices) lead you through narrow alleys, telling funny, romantic, and spooky legends under the stars. Different troupes run every hour, so the whole city feels like a singing amphitheater.

San Miguel is the most touristy spot I’ve hit in Mexico (outside the Cancún-Tulum bubble), but it keeps real Mexican soul. Roughly 10% of residents are now American, mostly retirees, which explains why everything feels wildly expensive. It’s also one of the cleanest, safest places I visited in Mexico—money talks.

Damn can’t believe 2025 is almost over 😱

Reflecting on all the trips and experiences I’ve had this year feeling very grateful 🙏

Just another few days in Mexico and then back to the States 🇺🇸💪

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