Holbox is the kind of place that reminds you what vacation is actually supposed to feel like. Barefoot mornings. Salty skin. Linen dresses. No schedule. No makeup. No pressure.

For someone like me, always creating, always producing, always “on”, this trip felt like a true reset. The kind that doesn’t just rest your body… it resets your nervous system.

And because of the way the island is positioned, you get something rare on Mexico’s east coast: sunsets. Golden, soft, magical sunsets.

Here’s the way I experienced Holbox.

Where we stayed played a huge role in how we experienced the island. If you want to know what hotel we booked, head to my substack!

Getting to Hotbox can feel a little chaotic at first, but that’s part of the magic. When you arrive, everything feels lively and slightly unstructured. You step off the ferry, grab a tiny taxi or hop into a golf cart, and suddenly… life slows down. The noise fades, the pace softens, and you realize you’ve arrived somewhere that invites you to let go and move differently. The best times to go are December to April. The climate is warm, dry and the water is perfect.

Breakfast was slow and easy, the kind of morning you wish you could stretch forever. We took our time, lingering over fresh, simple food and warm coffee, with no agenda other than enjoying the moment. It felt calm and grounding, an unhurried start that set the pace for the rest of the day and made everything feel a little more intentional.

Workouts were slow and intentional, focused more on how things felt. We moved with purpose, taking time to stretch, breathe, and really connect with our bodies. It was grounding and restorative, the kind of movement that leaves you feeling balanced, present, and deeply recharged rather than drained.

We leaned into slow living and chose simple, feel-good activities we could enjoy together as a family. Our days were filled with being outside, exploring new places without rushing, and taking time to pause in between. It wasn’t about doing everything. Sightseeing was done at our own pace, with no rush and no real plan. We wandered, took it all in, with spontaneous stops along the way. It felt unstructured, the kind of exploring that makes a place feel familiar instead of rushed through.

Shopping was all about discovering local artisans and thoughtful pieces you don’t find everywhere. We gravitated toward beautiful materials, handmade details, and creative designs that felt special and personal. Meaningful finds that captured the spirit and creativity of the place.

After a full morning in the sun, nothing felt better than settling in for a long, relaxed lunch. We stayed at the table longer than planned, enjoying fresh, flavorful food, letting time slow down even more. It was one of those meals that feels less about eating and more about soaking in the moment before easing into the rest of the day.

Evenings were all about fresh food and long, lingering dinners. We took our time at the table, sharing simple, flavorful meals and good conversation, letting the day slowly wind down. There was no rush to leave, just relaxed moments, full plates, and the kind of dinners that feel as nourishing for the soul as they are for the body.

What to wear was all about comfort and ease. Think soft, breathable fabrics, relaxed silhouettes, and pieces that move with you throughout the day. Effortless outfits that work from slow mornings to long lunches and sunset dinners, nothing restrictive, just simple, timeless pieces that feel good, look natural, and match the slow pace of the trip.

No cars. No paved roads. No high heels. Everything is sand, even the town. Sometimes dusty, sometimes dreamy. Always relaxed. You walk everywhere. You bike. You hop on a golf cart. That’s it.

Often we’d walk along the beach, watch the sun disappear into the water, then sit down for dinner with our toes in the sand.It was an amazing vacation: simple, understated, and deeply refreshing. There’s nothing flashy or overdone about the island, and that’s exactly what makes it so special. I truly hope it continues to protect what makes it unique. One day, I wish all the golf carts and RTVs become electric, no noise, no gas smell, so the island can remain as raw, peaceful, and magical as it is now. Places like this are rare, and this one truly deserves to stay that way.