As our luxury sedan glid seamlessly into PlayaCar—a pristine residential and hotel development nestled in the lush jungles of the Riviera Maya where Palmaïa – The House of Aïa is tucked deep into a secluded corner of the sprawling cenote-dotted grounds—my first instinct was to run.
We had just survived 90 minutes of my energetic twin toddlers’ first ride in car seats, a two-hour wait at the airport, two and a half hours of flying (also their first time in an airplane), and another 60-minute drive with two overly exhausted kids and no car seats. Arriving at the extravagantly understated, all-inclusive eco-luxury wellness sanctuary where my husband and I would attempt to “honeymoon” as a couple, spend time as a family, and disconnect from the digital world that sustains my livelihood was a welcome relief. Still, I wasn’t ready to enjoy it yet.
Did we even deserve this?
Clumsily wheeling the kids into the Palmaïa lobby atop our suitcases, we were greeted by Pola, an enthusiastic receptionist clad in flowing earth-toned linen pajamas who knew all our names. She so deeply charmed our discerning little ones with her attentive curiosity that they talked about her (“Pola Pola Bear”) daily throughout the entire week of our stay.
We gladly accepted the cool, wet towels Pola offered us to wipe down our snack-stained twins’ faces and voraciously downed our chilled cups of hibiscus and rosemary-infused water. As our final act of bravery, we dropped our bags in the two-room ocean-facing family suite we would call home for the next five nights and rushed the whole family to LEK for a 10:00 p.m. dinner.
Days later, we would discover the spectacular experience of slowly savoring the greenhouse-grown herbs and spices of Chef Charly’s pristinely plated plant-forward Mediterranean, Asian, and Mexican dishes. But at that moment, we shoved grill-kissed prawns the size of TV remotes and tangy charred watermelon “al pastor” tacos unceremoniously into our mouths, downed our spirulina and mezcal cocktails (seemingly uncommon mixology bedfellows but exquisitely executed), and rushed the kids to bed without their customary essential oil-infused nightly baths. We were beyond spent, deliriously whispering our gratitude to the benevolent, visionary architects who conceived such an elegant Family Master Suite Ocean View with a roomy terrace overlooking the calm wave breaks of the Caribbean coastline, designed to welcome children with as much intentional hospitality as their caregivers.
Just after our in-room dining feast for four the next morning, a gentle guardian, Lauri, awaited us in an airy merlot-hued linen romper at the door of Awen, the hotel’s on-site, Waldorf-inspired children’s retreat center. Awen immediately drew my little ones into its charming palo santo-scented embrace, most notably the upcycled wooden play kitchen, where they would spend many joyful hours throughout our visit. The kids were safe—it was time to get out. Run.
Access to such highly curated, 24/7, on-demand extravagance caused me inner conflict as imposter syndrome crept in. Were we elevated enough for “the gifting lifestyle” Palmaïa so generously extends to all its guests? I needed to see how everyday people in Playa del Carmen live, eat birria tacos and consommé on a rain-soaked street corner, and feel the city’s pulse. After insisting that we take an overpriced taxi into town, I discovered that the tourist favorite and Trip Advisor’s No. 2 “Things To Do in Playa del Carmen,” La Quinta Avenida, was not at all a necessary stopover for my Mexican husband or me. We got our fix of cheap street food and people-watching and headed back to The House of Aïa to figure out how to entertain our active kids at our swanky beach-meets-jungle getaway as a tropical storm approached Quintana Roo.
Refreshed from a two-hour nap in Awen’s sleep-inducing cocoon, our twins were ready to splash in the rain. At Eolo Beach Club, the hotel’s bohemian bar overlooking the crystalline turquoise ocean that was our family’s happy place at Palmaïa, my husband and I finally felt our nervous systems relax. Our eyes filled with tears witnessing the pure bliss our babies experienced as the warm summer rains washed over them. As my husband and I enjoyed perfectly crafted negronis and carajillos, the kids spent hours filling buckets of sand, washing themselves and their tools in the outdoor shower, and gathering precious sticks, leaves, and shells. The many pools and sacred waters of Palmaïa—with plunges for adults, slides for kids, and cenotes for everyone—were no match for Nature’s showers, allowing us to skip sunburns for unexpected overcast adventures.
Had it been peak travel season, we may have overlooked the magic of throwing all carefully laid plans out the window and truly enjoying how Palmaïa’s Nomadic Guides transported us beyond hospitality by preemptively anticipating all our family’s needs. The hurricane thankfully left us with just enough rain to drown out the heat without dampening our vacation. We considered ourselves fortunate to have come to Riviera Maya at a seemingly undesirable time when we were practically the only people there for the first four days of our stay. A massive wave of new arrivals, perhaps monitoring the storm better than we had, embarked on Friday just as the sun returned.
When our Nomadic Guide texted us about the daily Architects of Life wellness program, I quickly reserved my spot for the gong bath at Aisuru. This divinely aligned with the time when Lauri would be giving my two children a chance to feed the fish, run wild along the beach, meet the native monkeys hiding in the treetops, eat nourishing meals, and rest cozily at Awen.
Taking note of the “spiritual transformation in process: do not disturb” sign hanging on woven ivory twine at the entrance, I marveled at Aisuru’s floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the jungle, clusters of white feathers in hand-blown glass bulb jars, larger-than-life wooden ostriches perched in the corners, and a minimalist Japanese-style design reminiscent of a washitsu. Slate gray yoga mats and blankets were mathematically allocated throughout the serene space, and René Nájera radiated warmth from his perch among his one-man orchestra of energy-shifting instruments: planetary gongs, shuruti box, native flutes, fujara, shamanic drum, ancestral Maya style didgeridoo, chimes, handpan, or ravvast, depending on the medicine music-maker’s mood.
For one whole hour, I didn’t feel like running.
As a former yoga teacher, I’ve attended many sound baths over the last decade. But I have never felt so transported, tempted at times to open my eyes in hopes of demystifying René’s ephemeral magic, seemingly occupying two places at once, the vibrations reverberating from every direction, imbuing all my senses with embodied tranquility. After a quick stopover at Plantissa’s all-day café for a creamy oat milk matcha latte, I was off to pick up my well-rested twins from Awen. Floating down the palm-lined pathway, I felt a heightened awareness of the all-consuming natural beauty at Palmaïa, where time slips away, and you never want to leave paradise.
On our last day at The House of Aïa, I opted for one of the complimentary golf carts to take me for a last lap of the property after reluctantly picking up our boarding passes at the front desk. A young family not unlike ours was just arriving, and the driver was giving them the official tour. As we passed Awen, he joked, “It smells like freedom.” I wanted to tell them it absolutely does, but I was too busy mentally planning our family’s return to Palmaïa to spoil the surprise.
WHY GO
If you love the sound of, “You didn’t order this, but we brought you… [the most umami-packed lentil and pomegranate salad you’ve ever tasted]” from a service staff that takes their surprise-and-delight approach to peak guest enjoyment seriously, Palmaïa is where you’ll find your zen. Before you even think you need something, your personal Nomadic Guide will text you to ask what time and where you want to dine, which wellness activities entice you, or how they can elevate your day beyond your wildest imagination. I wouldn’t say they’re trained mind readers, but they come pretty close. I predict it won’t be long before Palmaïa is booked to capacity, so now’s the time to visit this surprisingly unpretentious high-end holistic haven.
Palmaïa founder Alex Ferri has quietly revolutionized the concepts of plant-based dining, sustainability, and all-inclusive luxury for eco-conscious travelers in Mexico. The half-Spanish, half-English ethos-guided entrepreneur, hotelier, and father of two has lofty goals of creating a better world for his children and their earthly cohabitants. Walking the balance between offering up choices and inspiration while remaining devoid of sanctimonious approaches to mindful clean living, it’s no surprise that the scion of the Sandos Resorts family has taken Palmaïa a great leap beyond the brand’s initial eco-hotel project, Caracol. Palmaïa envelops its guests in every aspect of a wellness journey, freeing their menu options of inflammatory refined sugars, seed oils, and other toxins without judging them for enjoying optional animal proteins or poolside cocktails.
For those seeking to wind down further, Atlantis Spa (not included, but well worth the extra splurge) delivers a restorative world-class self-care immersion rightfully recognized by Condé Nast Traveler’s Choice as the world’s No. 3 Destination Spa. My husband and I thought we had signed up for a standard couple’s massage at Atlantis. Instead, we experienced a profoundly comprehensive couple’s therapy session, during which our ceremony leaders moved in synchronistic harmony. Leading us through an intimate mind-body-spirit love ritual with rose quartz, copal, and honey poured atop the copaleiro smoke to symbolize a return to sweetness in our partnership, they intentionally conjured up memories of our first meeting. As we stared into each other’s tear-soaked eyes with a rope tied around us and our hands on each other’s hearts, the spiritually-minded masseuses drummed softly and chanted in the background. The mini-reset of our relationship ended in us fully absorbing the power of their long, firm Hawaiian-style Lomi-Lomi strokes, which vanished any tension we were still carrying in our bodies.
NEED TO KNOW
Nearly every type of wellness amenity is included in your stay except for bottles of wine and spa treatments. Though the owner and executive chef are both known for being passionate advocates of plant-centric gastronomy, you don’t have to be to feel at ease at Palmaïa.
Palmaïa is just a one-hour drive from the Cancun International Airport. The hotel can arrange round-trip airport transfers in deluxe air-conditioned cars with room for the entire family, WiFi access, complimentary drinks, and highly professional drivers who take your safety and comfort as seriously as if their family members were riding in the back seat. Car seats for longer rides are available upon request, as is seemingly almost anything you could wish for, including transportation to local sights (if you choose to venture off the Palmaïa path), and support with personalized requests to enhance your getaway. While most Architects of Life programming does not require a reservation, their weekly temescal (Mexican sauna) at Atlantis and upcoming special signature events like their Día de Los Muertos festivities tend to fill up quickly.
Mass media often and unfairly exaggerates Mexico’s reputation for being unsafe, with monikers for the region like Playa del Crimen (Crime Beach), but rest assured that you need not feel pressured to ever venture beyond Palmaïa’s gates. You’ll want to schedule long stretches of nothing to enjoy languid salt soaks in your tub, bike the winding paths, watch the sunset melt into the jungle treetops, and spend whole days replenishing your energetic battery.
Rest takes time, so stack up your vacation days and set your out-of-office message to “spiritual transformation in process” while you effortlessly return to your essence as one with nature.
All-inclusive stays at Palmaïa start at $850 USD.
Disclaimer: This stay was provided on a complimentary basis. All opinions and evaluations expressed are entirely independent, offering an unbiased perspective on the experience.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR | AUTHOR BIO
Dubbed a “Cultural Connector” by Washington CityPaper and “the cultural connector D.C. needs right now” by Bon Appétit, Simone Jacobson is a multipotentialite mother of twins who has dedicated her career to serving marginalized groups by promoting youth development, Asian American advancement, women in leadership, and the arts. A former restaurant owner, yoga teacher at the D.C. jail, and the Diversity & Inclusion lead for yoga teachers at Yoga District, Simone is currently the content director for Well Spirit Collective.
Her writing has appeared in The Washington Post, The Toronto Star, Eater, Gawker, Fusion, and HERE Magazine.
