Oaxaca: A Birthday trip to remember

There are trips you take, and there are trips that give something back — that leave you a little more yourself than when you arrived. Oaxaca, for my 64th birthday, was the second kind.

It isn’t often a place gets everything right at once. You sleep well. The dreams are sweet. The mood holds from morning to night, and everything — the light, the food, the pace of the day — simply falls into place. For five nights at the end of August, with Sabine and the girls, Tatiana and Chiara, that was Oaxaca. The world should stay exactly the way it was meant to be. This was one to remember.

We based ourselves at Casa Uh Mook, in the historic centre — beautifully located, beautifully decorated, with great showers and reliable AC, which matter more on the road than anyone ever admits. We will be back. If you’re ever heading to Oaxaca yourself, take note.

The week found its own rhythm early: out each morning for ruins, markets, or workshops, back by early afternoon for a long, unhurried lunch, and the rest of the day left open — a quick siesta in my case, or a wander into town for a shop, a bar, a mezcal. Five dinners, all within walking distance of the house through the historic centre’s cobblestones. But if I’m honest, it was never really about the food, even though we ate extremely well. It was the company. The walks. The long lazy meals and the conversations about life and food that ran on well past them. The cocktails, the shopping, the culture, the mezcal. All of it, together.

We landed on Wednesday the 26th — Sabine and I through Mexico City’s AIFA airport, Tatiana and Chiara an hour or so behind us through the older MEX — and were at the house in time to settle in before a welcome dinner at Las Quince Letras, a nine-minute walk from the front door. That was also, we’d realise later, where the Mole Journey quietly began — truly delicious from the very first spoonful, and just getting started. Not a bad way to begin five days that never really slowed down.

The Birthday

Thursday was the day itself. We spent the morning at Monte Albán, the old Zapotec hilltop capital just outside town — the kind of place that puts a birthday in perspective, two and a half thousand years of people marking their own milestones on the same ground. Then back into town for the birthday lunch at Casa Oaxaca, which turned out to be exactly the right spot for it. The tostada de insectos — chapulines, gusanos de maguey, hormigas chicatana — is worth ordering if you’ve never tried it; the service, the desserts, and the setting were all top notch. Chef Alejandro wasn’t in that day, but his team looked after us as if he were. Take the waiters’ recommendations on dishes — it’s a must. We closed the afternoon at the Templo de Santo Domingo, its gold-leaf altarpiece doing what it’s done for centuries, and kept walking the old town a while longer, before heading back to the Casa for a short siesta.

Dinner that night was at Enrique Olvera’s Levadura de Olla — another highlight of the week, and rightly so: one Michelin star. The calita de maracuyá, the black clay tableware on every table (we’d see that same barro negro shaped by hand the very next day, out in Coyotepec), the attention to detail in every direction you looked. One warning: don’t be late. Ten minutes past your reservation and they’ll charge you for it, and let you know about it. Everything else about it was a world-class experience.

Alebrijes and Barro Negro

The two days that followed took us out to the villages, and this, for me, is where Oaxaca really showed its hand. In San Martín Tilcajete, we spent a morning with Mario and Jacobo carving alebrijes — worth the guided tour and the experience, even if you go in warned that the good pieces aren’t cheap. Somewhere in the middle of all that carving, each of us came away with a pair of spirit animals. I got a Tortuga and a Coyote. Sabine, a Jaguar and a Tortuga of her own. Chiara, a Frog and an Owl. Tatiana, a Fish and an Armadillo. Make of it what you will — it hit the spot for all four of us, and it’s exactly the kind of detail from a trip that’s worth writing down before it fades.

And then there was the small matter of the Family Tribe — a custom set of alebrijes, one for each of us, that will live on in family folklore forever. 24,000 pesos for the full Tribe. The birthday boy, doing confident math on the spot, was quite sure it came to about $400. It did not. Call it the most expensive lesson in mental currency conversion I’ve had in years, and worth every peso of it.

From there we went on to San Bartolo Coyotepec for the black pottery — barro negro, shaped and burnished by hand, no wheel involved. We’d already had it under our plates the night before, without knowing it, at Levadura de Olla. That night’s dinner was at Los Danzantes, a Michelin-starred spot well worth the visit on its own merits. Order the Ensalada Verde. And whatever you do, dejar espacio — leave room — for dessert.

Saturday took us to Teotitlán del Valle for natural-dye weaving, and then to Ilegal Mezcal for what turned into the day’s real highlight — a last-minute addition, and a genuinely welcome one, arranged through Bacardi and my mate Matt Sykes, VP at Bacardi, who sent a driver and laid on lunch besides. Watching mezcal made the artesanal way, agave to glass, was genuinely enlightening, and I came away a confirmed Mezcal fan — which, in the land of Mezcal, feels like the only correct outcome. Reposado is my preference, ideally in a cocktail rather than neat.

From there it was on to the Tlacolula market for moles, textiles, and produce, and dinner that night was at Crudo, the closest of the week’s restaurants to the house.

Where We Ate (and Drank)

A few more discoveries from the week, worth passing on to anyone heading to Oaxaca:

For breakfast, Terraza del Sol — Chef Olga Cabrera’s spot — is a must: the juices, the omelettes, a set of different rooms each with its own feel, and a level of passion you can taste in the room. OTRO, just by the church, is another strong option — the huevos rancheros were out of the park. Oaxaca, it turns out, is a city that takes its breakfasts as seriously as its dinners.

For an evening drink: Terraza Los Amantes at sunset is exactly the setting you want for the close of a day — cathedral and mountains, the puesta de sol doing its work. Selva, for after-dinner cocktails, is a name that keeps coming up on lists of the world’s best bars, and the mezcal cocktails earn it. Sabina Sabe, also on that list, might be the best mixology we found in the city — genuinely some of the best bartenders we came across all week. And if you ever hear about Salmoncito — a newish speakeasy tucked behind what looks like an ordinary bookshelf — go. Ring the bell. Word of mouth doesn’t lie.

Sunday

Sunday began with a thoroughly delicious breakfast at Boulenc, which did not disappoint, followed by mass at the Templo de Santo Domingo. Afterward we took a long stroll through the streets of Oaxaca — ducking into galleries and shops, wandering the food markets buzzing with locals, taking in the Zócalo at the heart of town. Every step of it was worth the walk.

Lunch was at Criollo, which turned out to be our favourite dining experience of the entire trip — a seven-course tasting menu with beverage pairing, and the perfect note to end the week on. Thank you, Rebecca, for the invitation that made it happen. A short taxi back to the house, and then Tatiana and Chiara flew back to Mexico City that evening, a day ahead of Sabine and me.

We were, by then, cheerfully exhausted — no more last-minute shopping, no nightcap mezcal, not even one final breakfast. Monday morning we simply pointed ourselves at the airport and flew home by way of Mexico City.

The Promise

And then, somewhere between a mezcal and the walk home, we made a promise. Sabine and I — with Tatiana, Chiara, and friends — will be back in Oaxaca on 18 December 2028, for our 40th wedding anniversary: mass at the Templo de Santo Domingo, with dinner at Casa Oaxaca already pencilled in for the celebration after. To celebrate life, properly, and to pay tribute to Mexico.

Save the date. We mean it.

Notes for Next Time

Walk a different path every time you go to and from wherever you’re staying. You never know what you’ll find — a shop, a gallery, a café you’d otherwise walk straight past. Oaxaca sits at over 1,500 metres, so pace yourself with the mezcal, at least for the first day or two. Comfortable shoes for the cobblestones, a smarter layer for whichever dinner matters most. Cash goes further in the villages and markets; card is fine in town. And go to mass at Santo Domingo, Sunday or any day, even if that isn’t usually how you spend your morning. Some places earn the detour.