Crime
Joaquín "El Chapo" Guzmán — the cartel boss who tunneled out of two prisons — is now writing handwritten letters from ADX Florence, America's most secure prison, begging a federal judge for fair treatment. His words reveal a man who built tunnels to freedom now trapped in concrete.
Business
While the world argues over AI dominance, Mexico just quietly landed in the global top six for AI and data center manufacturing. Flex's $58 million investment will create 5,000 skilled jobs — and almost nobody outside Mexico noticed.
Sports
While the world watches Messi, Germán Berterame is quietly building something terrifying in South Florida. The Mexican striker's headed goal against Colorado is just the latest signal that Inter Miami's attack now runs through two strikers — not one.
Quintana Roo
Eleven thousand sharks are killed globally every single hour. But on a tiny island off Cancun, 32 former shark fishermen put down their nets and picked up snorkels — building a sanctuary that has protected over 30,000 sharks and become a model the entire Caribbean is scrambling to replicate.
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.
Mexico told like it is.
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.
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.
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.
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.'
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.
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.
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.