Crime
A Hungarian drug trafficker on Interpol's most-wanted list thought Cancún's chaos would hide him forever. He was wrong. The full story of how European intelligence, Mexican federal forces, and a Red Notice tracked János N. across an ocean and into a handcuff on a Caribbean street.
Xcaret
Mexico's Supreme Court just told the country's biggest eco-park empire it can't use Maya symbols anymore. The tourism industry is screaming. Indigenous communities are celebrating. And nobody knows where the line between homage and appropriation actually falls.
Science
There is a frequency so low your ears cannot detect it—but your eyeballs can vibrate to it. Around 18 Hz, infrasound triggers nausea, dread, and visual distortions that look exactly like ghost sightings. And it is passing through your walls right now.
Science
Forget Jurassic Park. A four-meter Nile crocodile hears a bell and flees. Real science shows crocodiles can be conditioned, detect infrasound, and possess 9,000 skin sensors. The cold-blooded killer stereotype is dead wrong.
The Crocodile’s Eye
A second body. A masked figure in a lagoon broadcasting frequencies below human hearing. Seven crocodiles arranged in a perfect semicircle, attending to something Miguel's training says shouldn't exist. The investigation crosses from forensics into territory no manual covers.
Cancun
In 1970, the barrier island that is now Cancún’s Hotel Zone had exactly three residents. Today, nearly a million people live on the mainland side of the lagoon—the workers, migrants, and families who keep Mexico’s biggest tourism machine running. This is the story of that city.
Business
Mexico's 'Tourist Airline' just vanished. Five Boeing 737-300s, all parked. Twenty-seven destinations, all dark. Thousands of passengers holding worthless tickets. The official reason: 'logistical problems.'
Crime
On Friday evening, Belizean special forces intercepted a cocaine-laden Cessna at a Mennonite settlement just miles from Quintana Roo's border. The haul: 551 kilograms. The pilots: Mexican. The implications for Mexico's Caribbean coast? Enormous.
Riviera Maya
The Maya crocodile carried the world on its back—now it carries stories on skin. From ancient earth-bearer myths to Playa del Carmen tattoo studios, discover why this 3,000-year-old symbol still grips imaginations.
Your insider’s guide to Mexico’s most compelling stories.
TV profilers solve crimes in 42 minutes. Real ones sometimes don’t solve them at all. FBI profilers aren’t psychic detectives—they’re data analysts who narrow the search. And when they’re wrong, the consequences are lethal.
FBI profiler Hudson Owen arrives in Cancún with a leather notebook and a pattern he's seen before — on another continent, in another cenote, with the same impossible tooth marks. Miguel and Hudson have history. Now they have a case that's about to rewrite both their frameworks.
The morning ritual isn't one of mourning — it's bureaucracy. A phone call. Municipal police arrive, take one look, realize this might not be their case. Maybe the dead tourist is American. Maybe there's evidence of organized crime. And just like that, the case begins its journey.
Born in the fires of the Mexican Revolution, café de olla has warmed hearts for over a century. This spiced coffee—simmered with piloncillo and cinnamon in clay pots—carries the spirit of the Adelitas who brewed it for soldiers, a tradition that still defines Mexican mornings.
Pull off Highway 307 anywhere between Playa del Carmen and Tulum, and you might miss it. There's no neon sign, no parking garage—just a modest entrance where, for six bucks, you can swim in water so clear it makes your backyard pool look like a mud puddle.
A tourist's body surfaces in Cenote Azul, tangled in ceiba roots. Detective Miguel Manito sees the marks on the chest and knows this wasn't an animal attack. It was a message — carved in a language the police don't speak. The investigation begins where the guidebooks end.
Xibalba wasn't abstract damnation — it was a nine-layered underworld ruled by twelve sadistic death gods who delighted in human suffering. The Maya believed you could physically enter through cenotes still open today.
Beneath your feet lies a 524-kilometer underwater cave system—the longest on the planet. The water you're looking at sustained the Maya for millennia. And that perfectly circular opening? It might be connected to the asteroid that wiped out the dinosaurs.
While the rest of us stress about wrinkles and retirement planning, these prehistoric predators have figured out something pharmaceutical companies would pay billions to understand: how to cheat death itself. Morelet's crocodiles live 50-65 years in the wild, but they don't age—not really.
A crocodile older than the conquest remembers the last sacrifice. A museum conservator touches a mask and something touches him back. The first installment of a serial thriller where sacred water runs beneath resort pools and ancient covenants survive under parking lots.
The IMSS officially confirmed the operational launch of a new CyberKnife radiosurgery robot in October 2025 at the Hospital de Oncología del CMN Siglo XXI. This system is unique in Mexico's public sector.
Mexico’s Supreme Court just ordered First Majestic Silver (Canada) to pay US $143 million in back taxes—the first time a NAFTA-era mining giant has lost a final fiscal verdict. The same Vancouver-based company operes five U.S. silver properties.
