¡Hola! from Holbox

July 7, 2014

I hesitate talking about treasures I find because I want to keep this place a secret, but the secret’s been out for a while anyway.

Isla Holbox (pronounced Ole-bosh), is a Mexican island outpost 40 miles north of Cancun, idly languishing in the Gulf of Mexico just before it meets the Caribbean. It´s a tiny place with no paved roads, people get around the island on golf carts (we´ve rented one a couple of times); a wildlife preserve where the pelicans outnumber the locals, the locals outnumber the tourists, and a translucent shade of emerald embraces the white sandy beaches.

I´d almost say that it´s a place time forgot, except I wrote this in an Internet cafe and the local bartenders liven up the joint with music blaring from iPods – but many of them are wearing rattails a la Donnie Wahlberg during his New Kids on the Block days, so fashion-wise, the 80s are thriving here.

My cousin Pookie and I made friends here on our first day (that´s how we roll). We landed in Cancun and were met by Fernando, who shuttled us up to Chiquila (a two-hour drive) where we were supposed to take the ferry (another 40 minutes’ ride) to the island. The ferry wasn´t going to leave for four hours, so we got on a small motor boat with three Cubans, one of whom was a hottie named Michael who lives in Vegas and comes here to go lobster fishing. He even gifted us with fresh mangoes.

We hit the hotel bar as soon as we dumped our luggage in the room. We´re staying at the simple yet elegant Casa Sandra, right on the beach. It has a pool, its own NY Times-reviewed restaurant (which is probably one reason this place won´t remain a secret for long), and a helpful and friendly staff.

Our hotel bartender, a super tall freak of nature from Georgia who crafted dreamcatchers when he wasn’t busy, made us awesome drinks on the fly and told us where the hotspots were. We were joined by David, a handsome Italian who bartended at Sky Bar (a rooftop bar in a three-story ¨skyrise¨ two blocks inland) who stopped by for a drink and pitched in on thoughts of where to hang.

I was drunk and had gone for a swim within two hours of arriving here. Later that night, we had dinner at Viva Zapata, a local favorite, chatted with the local high-end jeweller (a nice Jewish expat), explored the lay of the land for a bit, and capped the evening off at Tuch, a little 10×12 bar set up on the sand with swings for stools.

Lobster season started on July 1st (there’s an island law where frozen lobster is prohibited, it has to be fresh), so we gorged on lobster everything – lobster pizza, lobster risotto, lobster with garlic and butter… but the mosquitoes attacked us like starving savages, so I guess it´s an even trade.

The entire town invited us to a birthday party at one of the bars, but our airconditioned room beckoned for sleepy time. We had plenty of opportunity to party with the locals during our stay anyway.