It’s my mom’s first time in Mexico, and we’re staying at an all-inclusive resort. Admittedly, these types of stays are not typically a very authentic representation of a country’s culture, and my friends know I usually prefer a locally owned boutique hotel. But when the all-inclusive in question is Four Seasons’ first foray into the category, an adults-only resort with just 15 bamboo “tents,” I’m willing to make an exception.
Nothing about Naviva feels like a regular resort. For starters, you’ll chat with a personal concierge before arrival and discuss your interests and goals for your trip. My mom and I wanted to enjoy quality time together, eat well and leave feeling rejuvenated. From there, a custom itinerary is crafted for your stay, although it’s merely a framework and can be adjusted at any time. The Naviva team is always a text away, waiting to respond to any request.
Photography provided by Naviva, A Four Seasons Resort
Upon arrival, crossing an undulating bamboo bridge into jungle paradise, we are greeted with a refreshingly sweet coconut water, walnut and apple concoction served in a gourd. Then, we are whisked off on a buggy for a grounds tour. There’s no need to check in; everyone already knows who you are.
Most travelers come here to rest. Immersing yourself in nature gently invites you to slow down and breathe more deeply. The ocean-view tents come with private plunge pools, indoor and outdoor showers, hammocks and soaking tubs, making it all too easy to melt into a languid stupor wrapped in a light cotton robe made in Oaxaca.
You can relax on the private beach, lounging on a lone curtained daybed while enjoying a steady flow of unlimited beverages — including freshly fermented tepache and my favorite new combo of fresh coconut water mixed with cold brew coffee. Your only companions might be cute little crabs scampering across the sand and chachalaca birds gracefully swooping overhead.
It feels like we have the whole place to ourselves for most of our stay. Summer is the rainy season and, therefore, less busy. It’s hotter and more humid this time of year, and you’ll contend with more mosquitos. But the sunsets are glorious, and Naviva is one of the rare resorts in the region with stunning sunsets year-round, especially from the Copal Cocina fire pit.
It was too sweltering for me to take a Mexican boxing class, but we enjoyed daily meditation, yoga and sound healing classes at Risco Terrace, along with spa treatments (one massage or facial is included with every stay) in elegant bamboo spa pods inspired by the indigenous ceiba tree with laminated arches and panels.
There’s only one restaurant, Copal Cocina, but the unwritten menu is an ever-changing affair, and the restaurant experience feels like stepping into a friend’s kitchen. Chefs prepare seasonal specials for each meal and can deftly accommodate any dietary restrictions or preferences. When I seemed less than enthused about the Italian-themed meal on our final night, chef Mike immediately pivoted and suggested cooking something authentically Mexican for my mom and me. I readily agreed, and a few hours later, we were delightfully surprised with a veritable feast of duck carnitas tacos, huitlacoche and rajas poblanos tamales, and a whole snapper served a la talla with red adobo and salsa verde, accompanied by charred baby corn and squash.
The longer you stay, the more personalized each day feels as the Naviva staff gets to know you better. No matter your length of stay, a Temazcal sweat lodge ceremony should not be missed. These communal rituals are offered three times a week because General Manager Eduardo Sampere says he wants to be sure that every guest has a chance to experience the physical detox and spiritual healing.
I close my eyes and am enveloped in warm copal smoke as we begin with a blessing. Our curanderos, Marisela and Manik, lead us in seven rounds of prayer punctuated by baritone conch shell bellows. We pray not only to the four cardinal directions but also to the sky, the Earth and finally, our hearts, for we are part of nature, too. After confirming that nobody is claustrophobic, we stoop to enter the Temazcal dome together.
Whether your eyes are open or closed, pure obsidian darkness surrounds you once the entrance is closed. We have only Marisela’s melodic voice to guide us as she pours water over the hot stones while singing. There are four rounds for the four elements — wind, fire, Earth and water. The door opens to let in air and light between rounds, as hot stones are added to the pit along with different herbal medicines — palo santo, sage and oca roots – for each element. By the end, we are all lying down, struggling to survive the intense heat. When the door finally opens for the last time, and we are able to crawl out to the light, I do feel awakened, like my senses have sharpened. Temazcal is described as being back in Mother Nature’s womb, and I look over to my own mother and give her hand a squeeze, overwhelmed with gratitude for her love and wisdom.
