Dispatch from Puerto Escondido
Sound-bathing, surfing and design-hunting on Mexico’s laid-back Oaxacan Coast, by Christopher Bagley
I first worked with Chris Bagley years ago, when he was an editor at W in New York and then bureau chief in Paris. At a certain point, he started bringing his camera with him on assignment, and found that it opened up new ways to tell a story. At Condé Nast Traveler, he was our double-threat, able to shoot and write—and do both beautifully. Recently, he checked out the wellness scene of Puerto Escondido, and we’re so glad he’s sharing it here. You can see more from his trip on IG @yolojournal, which we’ll save in the story Highlights. (You can also find our Oaxaca Black Book here!)
Dispatch from Puerto Escondido
If you’ve been to Tulum or Playa del Carmen lately, you know that it doesn’t take long for an idyllic Mexican beach town to turn into an overbuilt touristic dystopia, jammed with “VIP” nightspots blasting identical reggaeton playlists. But Puerto Escondido, a settlement of 45,000 on the Oaxacan coast, is resisting that fate. Granted, the town has been getting a lot busier and groovier lately, as a new crop of wellness seekers and remote workers joins the long-running mix of surfers, backpackers and Mexican families. But it’s still a gorgeous and laid-back place where you can spend your entire stay in barefoot mode, meandering from taco stand to sheltered cove to reiki detox center. And although chic new lodging options are popping up constantly, most are small-scale hideaways that don’t dwarf the native palm trees. Locals will tell you that the inconveniences that everyone puts up with here—potholed roads, erratic internet service, plumbing problems—are the same things that have kept the major hotel chains away, so far at least.
On my first-ever visit last winter, I was won over within 30 minutes of touching down at the airport. As my taxi made its way through the unpaved streets of the La Punta neighborhood, I rolled down the window and let the sun caress my pasty gringo face as a series of bronzed, toned creatures on motor scooters zoomed past, wearing only swimsuits, with no shoes and certainly no helmets. “Who are all these carefree, happy people?” I wondered. By the end of the week, one of them was me.
WELLNESS AND ALTERNATIVE HEALING
It had been a while since I’d touched a yoga mat, but a sublime and soulful morning class with Mario Batres in the palapa-roofed studio at One Love turned me into one of his many devoted regulars. (Arrive early, since Batres’ classes tend to fill up). If you’re craving something more esoteric—an ayurvedic sound bath, say, or a frog venom