How to Spend Christmas Alone (and Love It) in Mexico

Christmas. The most wonderful time of the year. Or so they say. For most, it’s a festival of twinkling lights, syrupy carols, and a family gathering that’s about as harmonious as a sack of feral cats. But if you find yourself alone this Christmas and in Mexico, you might just discover that solitude and a touch of Latin flair could be the ultimate antidote to tinsel tyranny.

Let’s start with the obvious: you’re alone. That’s not a bad thing. It means no arguing over who ruined the turkey or whose turn it is to explain Bitcoin to Aunt Mildred. In Mexico, you’re free from the societal pressure to fake delight at another pair of novelty socks. Instead, you can revel in the fact that you’re your own boss this holiday season.

First on the agenda: food. Forget the obligatory roast dinner. Mexico’s cuisine is a riot of flavors that makes stuffing and cranberry sauce look like a sad potluck. Tacos al pastor, pozole, or tamales are the perfect way to break with tradition. And since you’re flying solo, there’s no one to judge when you decide to wash it all down with a margarita the size of a swimming pool. Pro tip: head to a bustling local market. Places like Mercado de San Juan in Mexico City or Mercado 28 in Cancún offer everything from sizzling street food to artisanal crafts. Just remember to wear loose trousers. You’ll thank me later.

Next, consider the scenery. Mexico in December is a blend of traditions, many of which put the overblown commercialism of the West to shame. Las Posadas, for instance, is a nine-day celebration that re-enacts Mary and Joseph’s search for shelter. If you’re in a small town, you might stumble upon a candlelit procession with children singing and piñatas being whacked with an enthusiasm usually reserved for Black Friday sales. Even if you’re in a city, there’s no shortage of festive spirit. Zócalo Square in Mexico City transforms into a winter wonderland, complete with an enormous Christmas tree and an ice-skating rink. Yes, ice skating in Mexico. The world is a mad place.

Of course, you’ll need to deal with the occasional pang of loneliness. That’s where tequila comes in. Not in a “drown your sorrows” sort of way—though no judgment here—but as a cultural experience. Visit a mezcaleria and learn about the subtle differences between tequila and mezcal. It’s educational, festive, and you’ll leave with a warm glow that has nothing to do with central heating.

For those who prefer a quieter kind of solitude, Mexico’s beaches are a sanctuary. Imagine Christmas morning on a sun-drenched stretch of sand, the only soundtrack the gentle lapping of waves and the occasional cry of a seagull. Tulum, Puerto Escondido, or Isla Mujeres offer a mix of laid-back charm and Instagram-worthy views. Bring a book, a hat, and an air of smugness. While others are wrestling with in-laws, you’re sipping coconut water under a palm tree.

But let’s not forget the cultural side. Mexico’s churches are architectural marvels, and during Christmas, they’re at their most spectacular. Midnight Mass, or Misa de Gallo, is a sight to behold. Even if you’re not religious, there’s something profoundly moving about the candlelit ceremonies and the hauntingly beautiful music. Plus, it’s an excellent opportunity to people-watch. You’ll see everything from devout grandmothers to bored teenagers sneaking a peek at their phones.

If you’re the type who craves connection, Mexico is your playground. The locals are famously warm and welcoming, especially during the holidays. Strike up a conversation at a café, join a salsa class, or simply smile and say “Feliz Navidad” to strangers. You’d be surprised how quickly loneliness evaporates when you’re surrounded by people who genuinely enjoy celebrating life.

Spending Christmas alone in Mexico isn’t a sentence; it’s an opportunity. An opportunity to eat better, relax harder, and perhaps rediscover the joy of doing exactly what you want. After all, isn’t that what Christmas is supposed to be about? Freedom, happiness, and the occasional ridiculous indulgence? Embrace it. And if you’re lucky, you might even get a tan.