Quintana Roo’s Seaweed Now a Regulated Resource (And Maybe Dinner)

Welcome to the Mexicanist, your bi-weekly dose of sun-soaked, slightly-bizarre news from Mexico's tourist-friendly corners. We're here to tell you the stories you won't find on the back of a resort postcard, the real stuff that makes this place so damn interesting.

Sargassum is Now a Legally Recognized Sea Vegetable

If you’re planning a trip to Quintana Roo, pack your swimsuit, your sense of humor, and maybe a small net for harvesting sargassum—because as of this week, that smelly brown seaweed washing up on your beach towel is officially a regulated fishery resource. That’s right. The Mexican government has upgraded sargassum from “annoying beach nuisance” to “national seafood.”

Governor Mara Lezama announced this week that sargassum is now listed in the Carta Nacional Pesquera, which means it’s no longer just a biohazard—it’s a commodity. The next time you’re dodging a pile of it on Tulum’s beach, just whisper, “You’re somebody.” Soon enough, we’ll have sargassum tacos at Mercado 28. “It’s high in fiber,” the vendor will say, winking. “And iodine. Probably.”

But don’t panic. The government is monitoring the weather and cyclone activity closely, and insists you should only trust official sources for updates. Which is great advice, unless you’re like most tourists, who get their weather updates from the bartender at Coco Maya who says, “Looks like rain, but the margaritas are on special.”

The Planetarium That Finally Got Its Own Tour Bus

In a stunning twist of cultural evolution, the Planetarium Ka’Yoc in Cancún—a place once primarily visited by schoolchildren on rainy days and parents trying to avoid the beach—has seen a 20% spike in attendance thanks to a new Turibus route.

Yes. The bus that usually shuttles tourists from the airport to all-inclusive resorts now stops at a planetarium. And people are getting off. Voluntarily.

Authorities say this proves that visitors are craving more than just sunburns and tequila shots. They want educational experiences. Or maybe they just got on the wrong bus and decided to make the best of it. Either way, the planetarium is now a “reference point for educational tourism.” That’s diplomatic speak for “we finally have enough visitors to justify the giant projector.”

Pro tip: Go on a Thursday. The show about black holes is narrated in three languages and smells faintly of coconut sunscreen.

Chocolate, Cocodriles, and Ceviche

Forget oil. Forget real estate. The future of Quintana Roo is artisanal.

In Playa del Carmen, local chocolatier Roberto Reta of Pasión de Cacao is riding the wave of tourists who don’t just want chocolate—they want story-driven, culturally resonant, Instagrammable chocolate. “They’re not just buying flavor,” he says. “They’re buying a connection.”

And honestly, same. I’ll take a $14 cacao truffle if it comes with a QR code linking to a video of a Mayan elder blessing the beans.

Meanwhile, in Puerto Morelos, scientists are on the verge of discovering two new species of crocodile in Cozumel and Banco Chinchorro. That’s right—Mexico might soon go from having three to five native crocodile species, making it the Dubai of crocodilian diversity.

Researchers say these crocs have unique genetic, morphological, and ecological traits. In other words: they look different, act different, and probably have better beachfront property. If confirmed, this would be a huge win for biodiversity—and for the future of “Crocodile Selfie Tours.”

The Ceviche Olympics Are Coming (And You’re Invited to Judge)

Tulum is hosting the “El Cangrejito Playero 2025” Ceviche Competition, and it sounds like the culinary version of the Hunger Games.

Local vendors will battle for supremacy in what we can only assume is a high-stakes showdown of lime juice, diced onion, and existential pride. The municipal government promises “a celebration of history and traditions,” which is another way of saying: “There will be free samples and a DJ playing ‘La Bamba’ remixes.”

Also happening in Tulum: a workshop on gastronomic culture and tourism. You can sign up today (August 8) at the tourism office. It’s unclear if the course covers how to politely decline ceviche from a street vendor who insists it’s “just like abuela makes,” even though abuela was a German tourist named Giselle.

The Real VIPs of the Mayan Jungle

In a heartwarming reminder that not everything in Quintana Roo is trying to overcharge you or bite you, local officials are celebrating the importance of bees—especially the melipona, a stingless Mayan bee that’s been making honey since before Europeans figured out how to wear pants.

“Protect the bees,” urged Melitón González, head of Economic Development, which is not a sentence you expect to hear from a government official unless he’s being chased by a hive.

Apiculturists (fancy word for “bee dudes”) are being invited to collaborate with municipal programs to promote honey and its derivatives. Translation: expect more honey-infused mezcal, honey spa treatments, and possibly honey-flavored WiFi packages.

The Woman Who Licked the Ice Cream Before Giving It Away

Okay, this one technically happened in Mexico City, but since Jenna Ortega did it while promoting Wednesday Season 2, and since she’s basically the patron saint of young Americans who vacation in Tulum to “find themselves” (and then post about it), we’re counting it.

Ortega was handing out ice cream to fans and press. Sweet. Generous. Then someone noticed: she had licked each one first.

The video went viral. Some called it “charming.” Others called it a biohazard. The CDC has not commented.

Still, you have to respect the commitment to method acting. If Merlina Addams is into licking other people’s desserts, then by god, so is Jenna.

Yachts Suffer Existential Crisis

Luxury boat rentals in Cancún are down 30% this summer. Blame:

• Sargassum (the seaweed that thinks it’s a carpet).
• U.S. tourists saving cash for Taylor Swift tickets.
• Geopolitics (because even yachts aren’t safe from Twitter).

Silver lining: 44–155 ft yachts now offering "Heartbreak Package"—breakup at sea, complete with champagne and a sad violinist.

Hasta la próxima,
—The Mexicanist

Subscribe. Share. And for the love of guacamole, don’t lick the ice cream.