Lately, it seems like everyone I know has either just returned from Oaxaca or is planning their next trip there – and after finally visiting myself, I understand why. Oaxaca feels like Mexico distilled into its purest form - as if you were able to boil down all the little things you love about the vast country of Mexico and form it into one incredible, walkable city. While my Instagram feed had been filled with friends' photos of colorful streets and market finds, experiencing it firsthand revealed that Oaxaca isn't just another trendy destination – it's a place that pulses with an authenticity that can't be manufactured.
From the moment you arrive, you’re constantly immersed in colonial architecture painted in bold blues, sunshine yellows, and deep reds. You find yourself slowing down, drawn into doorways that lead to hidden courtyards and family-run cafes. Pretty soon, your morning ritual becomes ducking into a tiny coffee shop for a cup of traditional dark roast or a hot, frothy cup of Xocolatl (Mexican hot chocolate) and one of the best chocolate croissants you’ve had in a long time (with cacao harvested just mountains away). Each morning in Oaxaca becomes something you look forward to with childlike excitement.
It helps that incredible food is everywhere you look. Quesadillas stuffed with squash blossoms and stretchy Oaxacan cheese become daily cravings. Then there’s tlayudas, memelas, and tamales. Oaxacans even find a way to make grasshoppers tasty - don’t knock it till you try it. Each meal feels like a revelation – whether it's breakfast at a bustling market stall or dinner at a candlelit mezcaleria. I didn't have a single disappointing bite during my entire stay.
And of course, there’s the mole…a rich, prehispanic food sometimes consisting of 10-20 different chiles, spices, fruits, nuts and chocolate that are made into a paste, then slow-simmered for hours or even days or even years. If you think you’ve had mole, think again. There’s just nothing like true Oaxacan mole.
Anyhow, let’s move on. Though you can traverse the historic center in mere minutes, the city's depth reveals itself slowly. Every narrow street seems to hide another artisan's workshop, another cozy bookstore, another family-run comedor. The sounds of impromptu parades and street musicians fill the air day and night, while locals and visitors alike spill out of cafes onto sidewalks, sharing stories and mezcal. And because I was in Oaxaca just a week before Día de Muertos (Day of the Dead), the streets were covered with marigold flowers and skulls and colorful altars - it doesn't get more metal than that.
And then there's Jalatlaco, a neighborhood that feels like stumbling upon a secret. This artistic enclave, with its street art-adorned walls and hip little mezcal bars, somehow maintains its local spirit while embracing modern creative energy. Here, traditional crafts meet contemporary design in a way that feels entirely organic.
Oaxaca is a city that teaches you to slow down, to savor not just the food and drink, but the moments between – the afternoon light hitting colonial facades, the sound of church bells mixing with street music, the aroma of toasting chilies drifting through narrow streets. It's Mexico at its most essential, its most alive, its most real. I left the city feeling renewed and full of creative energy, in equal measure. And of course, stuffed like a marquesita with Oaxacan chocolate.
Oaxaca…more like Whoa-xaca. Anddd I’m out.
