Hotel La Semilla

Our tropical vacation was starting out a little rocky, to say the least. We arrived in Cancun after a red-eye from Los Angeles to find that the banks had locked us out of local ATMs despite me putting travel notices on our accounts and I’d misplaced La Semilla hotel’s address in Playa Del Carmen. To top it off, we landed in the middle of a tropical storm.

I felt like a rat that had washed up from a shipwreck, not the worldly jetsetter that I like to think I am. Plus, as someone who prides themselves on having an encyclopedic knowledge of every destination, booking a trip to the Caribbean in the middle of a tropical storm was doing nothing for my travel cred.

To say La Semilla was a sanctuary from the storm would be clichéd… but I’m going there. Opening the door to our room, a little cuarto on the third floor, I instantly felt calm wash over me. The hotel works in light colors – whites, time-worn woods – and I’m told most of the furniture is, impressively, sourced from flea markets across the country (a fact that makes me bemoan my lack of luck and/or patience for flea-market sourcing).

Every little detail of the room – from the headboard cleverly cobbled together out of two twins, to the re-upholstered theater seats, to the nightstand composed of a glass table and old trunks – was effortlessly chic. The windows opened up onto the street, but it was felt like a little slice of jungle, with a beautiful tree outside in full bloom. The natural light was streaming in and I quickly wore my phone battery down snapping pictures from every angle.

On our first morning there, Mr Smith and I headed down to breakfast in the garden. I was promised breads and homemade jam, but what I got was much more. The breads and jams were present, of course, but accompanied by fresh fruit, homemade juice and a tasty dish of organic eggs. (The second day, there was chilaquiles! I think I ate my weight in chilaquiles on that trip.) Mr. Smith went crazy for the house juice and drank glassful after glassful.

After breakfast, we lay in bed with the windows open. Mr. Smith read and I just watched the breeze blow the curtains and the condensation grow on the jug of purified water. As a city-dweller, it can be hard for me to relax sometimes, even on vacation. When you’re a business owner, there’s always an inkling in the back of your head that perhaps you should be doing something. But not here: I could have lay in that room forever, staring at the white-washed ceilings and the red blooms peeking in the window.

Many people fly to the Maya Riviera to stay at one of it’s many cookie-cutter resorts. Relaxation is the top priority in this neck of the woods, and it’s screaming at you from every beach chair and bar stool. Hotel La Semilla isn’t shouty like that at all, but the air of peace is pleasingly inescapable. It’s like staying at your coolest friend’s beach house – it’s comfortable without being dowdy, stylish without being overly groomed. And the staff is sweet and professional, ready to help at every turn.

We ate our way round many of the recommended restaurants and bars, but one of the best dinners Mr Smith and I had was at Almirante Pech. Sitting at a low table surrounded by the best looking people in Playa Del Carmen, we ate tuna tartare, barbacoa panucho (fried corn masa with barbacoa, beans, pickled cucumbers and red onion) and relleno negro – pork with black Yucatan spice mix. And then, because we were on vacation, we had burnt-milk cheesecake. We picked surprise cocktails for each other… and somehow both picked the same thing – the Don Margarito (Blanco tequila, cherry tomatoes, dill and coriander). Ah, vacation, forever reminding you that, after several years of marriage, you’re basically the same person.

Back at La Semilla – tucked away behind the tiled entryway – is the garden, filled with lush plants and a sweet burbling stream, and dotted with little tables and mismatched chairs where we breakfasted each morning and sipped wine and Coronas every afternoon. On our second morning in residence, I noticed owners Alexis Schärer and Angie Rodriguez tending to a teeny model house, tucked away just off the garden path, cleaning the miniature furniture and replenishing the little gift of food left carefully beside it. The house is there to appease the 'Alux', Alexis explained, an energetic little sprite who love jokes and tricks. When a landowner adds a little house on his property, according to legend, the alux is kept busy and happy and will bring good luck to your family. It seemed to be working: everything at La Semilla seemed spectacularly well cared for – no detail was too small or unimportant.