Mexico Just Declared Sargassum a “Fish”

Yes, you read that right. Starting today, the brown, stinky seaweed that carpets our beaches is officially a fishery resource. Translation: instead of cursing it, we’re now supposed to farm it. The government dreams of turning the stuff into cow food, bricks, and—why not—bioplastic bikinis. If you spot a local stuffing seaweed into his pickup, he’s not weird; he’s a pioneer.

Pro tip for tourists: The next beach vendor who tries to sell you “hand-harvested Caribbean caviar” is probably just flipping you a fistful of yesterday’s sargazo. Negotiate accordingly.

🌪️ Weather or Not, We’re Still Open for Business

Let’s start with the drama nobody invited: Tropical Storm Ivo.

Yes, Ivo — not Ivano, not Ivan the Terrible, but Ivo, the ninth cyclone of the Pacific season, which formed Wednesday and immediately started throwing tantrums. According to Mexico’s National Meteorological Service (SMN), Ivo is currently doing what all moody exes do — moving parallel to the coast, giving us the silent treatment, and then deciding maybe to dip back into the Pacific without actually showing up.

So, does this mean your Cancun beach day is canceled? No. Will there be punctual intense rains (75–150 mm, thank you, SMN, for making it sound like a math exam) in Guerrero and Oaxaca? Yes. But Ivo is so committed to avoiding Mexico it’s practically doing yoga poses in the open ocean to stay away. So, pack your raincoat, but keep the swimsuit on standby.

🐊 30 Cocodrilos Walk Into a Bar…

…okay, they didn’t, but they did wander into Cancun’s suburbs this year. Authorities report 30 sightings since January—five last month alone at Playa Langosta. The official explanation? Fish shortage in the lagoon. Unofficial version: the crocs saw the Airbnb prices and figured they’d crash on land.

Safety briefing: If a scaly Airbnb host offers you a “room with bite,” politely decline and call the fire department. They’ve become the city’s unofficial reptilian Uber drivers.

🍻 Free Beer While It Lasts (Because the Seaweed Is Winning)

Meanwhile, back in the Caribbean, the real storm is sargazo. Or, as I like to call it, “nature’s glitter bomb.” It’s back, it’s thick, and it’s making some tourists question if they booked a beach vacation or a compost tour. But guess what? The locals are unfazed. One hotel worker in Tulum said European guests now arrive expecting sargassum like it’s part of the cultural experience — like visiting a cenote or getting overcharged for a taco.

“They don’t come for the beach anymore,” said Jesús Almaguer Salazar, former head of the Cancún Hotel Association. “They come for the jungle, the ruins, the culture. Or, you know, just to Instagram the sargassum and say they survived it.”

Tulum’s beach clubs are running 30 % occupancy—a horror show for owners, a happy hour for you. One beach-club director (let’s call him Eliseo, because that’s his name) confessed: “There are days when it is full... and days that are completely empty.” Translation: show up on a slow day, flash a smile, and you might score a free margarita “for the gram.”

Travel hack: Head to the sargazo-choked shoreline around 3 p.m. when staff outnumber guests 4:1. Sympathy drinks flow like the Rio Hondo in rainy season.

🚨 Dengue is Up, But So Are We

Bad news: Dengue cases are rising in Quintana Roo. Good news: The government is begging people to clean their yards, throw out old tires, and stop turning their patios into mosquito spas.

Fernando Olvera del Castillo (who, by the way, is in every article, like a Mexican version of Chuck Norris facts) reiterated the call: “No pots and pans. No standing water. No itchy red bumps.”

Translation: If you’ve got a bucket, a broken fridge, or a kiddie pool full of rainwater, it’s basically a five-star resort for Aedes aegypti mosquitoes. And they’re not leaving Yelp reviews — they’re leaving fever, pain, and regret.

So do your part. Clean your yard. Use repellent. And if you see a neighbor with a tire full of water, politely ask if they’re trying to raise mosquitoes or just really committed to recycling.

🚔 Narco-Buster of the Week: The K-9 Who Sniffed Out a Gelato Cake

Chetumal’s canine hero Max (one name, like Beyoncé) just busted a courier company trying to mail 10 cylinders disguised as “Gelato Cake.” Either the cartel’s branding team has gone artisanal, or someone’s been binge-watching Breaking Bake.

Border souvenir idea: The seized containers are now evidence, but you can still buy actual gelato cake downtown—no ID required, only a sweet tooth.

🏛️ Chetumal’s “Polo de Desarrollo” Is Not a New Tequila Flavor

Yesterday Governor Mara Lezama and Marcelo Ebrard signed a deal to make Chetumal the first “Polo de Desarrollo Económico para el Bienestar.” Sounds boring? Translation: tax breaks, electric buses, and a 100 % write-off on that hammock factory you always wanted.

Investor tip: They’re literally giving away money to anyone who can stitch a hammock or milk a coconut. BYO hammock school diploma.

🐶 Want to Adopt a Beach Dog? There’s an App—Okay, a Phone Number

Isla Mujeres opened a Centro de Bienestar Animal that looks more like a doggy Four Seasons. Sterilizations on Mondays, manicures on Fridays, and adoption paperwork handled faster than you can say “¡Buen chico!”

Dial 998-350-7744. Tell them Mexicanist sent you. The pups don’t speak English, but they understand “treat” in any language.

🌪️ Weather Roulette: Two Storms Brewing

Two low-pressure zones are flirting with Quintana Roo:

• System 1: 40 % chance of cyclone action within a week, currently 1,675 km northeast of Cancun—close enough to ruin your Instagram sunset, far enough to keep flights running.
• System 2: 60 % chance, loitering like a drunk tourist near the Atlantic. Pack a poncho, but maybe also sunscreen. This is the Caribbean, after all.

🚍 Mexico’s New Electric Buses: Taruk, Not Tesla

If you’ve been waiting for Mexico to drop a real flex in sustainable transport, meet Taruk — the electric bus built in Mexico, named after the Yaqui word for “roadrunner,” and looking like a futuristic toaster with headlights.

These buses are 100% Mexican-made, the result of a collaboration between the government and companies like DINA. And yes, they’re being hailed as a “good initiative to strengthen the economy.” One citizen even posted on social media: “If you have something made in Mexico, why bring it from abroad?”

Exactly. Also applies to avocados, tequila, and emotional support from your tía.

🍽️ Where to Eat: “Mes Patrio” Comes Early

Playa del Carmen’s Gastronomic Committee just dropped a calendar of festivals:

• 30-31 Aug: Festival del Jocho (hot-dog worship, vegan options available).
• 1 Nov: Giant Catrina expo—because nothing says dinner like a 12-foot sugar-skull selfie backdrop.

Reservation hack: Show up in Day-of-the-Dead face paint; staff assume you’re an influencer and comp the first round.

🛍️ Markets: Where You Bargain, Bond, and Possibly Buy a Curse

If you want to understand Mexico, go to a market. Not a supermarket — a real market. The kind where abuelas sell herbs for love spells, someone’s grilling elotes next to a display of plastic Jesus figurines, and the line between “medicinal plant” and “probably toxic” is… flexible.

As anthropologist Manuel Buenrostro Alba notes, markets are where social, commercial, and symbolic relationships are forged. Or, in plain English: you haggle for mangoes, flirt with the avocado seller, and accidentally buy a veladora for Saint Judas because it looked cool.

🚗 Airport Update: 2.63 Million Passengers in July

Cancun International keeps smashing records. Translation: security lines longer than the Tren Maya, but the margaritas start at gate B12.

Survival tip: Download the CBP Mobile Passport app and pray to the Wi-Fi gods. Or just bribe the sargazo-removal guy for a fast-track—yes, that’s a thing now.

🌮 Parting Shot: The Cancun Country Open (a.k.a. Tennis with Tacos)

20-year-old Rodrigo Pacheco, Mexico’s new tennis prodigy, headlines the tournament next week. Tickets come with taco flights—three mini pastor tacos matched to each set. If Pacheco wins, tequila shots for everyone; if he loses, the tacos still win.

Mexicanist motto: Come for the sports, stay for the salsa stains on your Ralph Lauren.

🏁 End Transmission

If you spot a croc on the golf course, a hammock salesman pitching tax shelters, or a seaweed farmer wearing a bioplastic bikini, tag us @Mexicanist. We’ll send you a free sargasso-scented candle—limited edition, burns for 41.8°C hours.

Adiós, and may your Wi-Fi be stronger than the next tropical depression.