It s just past daybreak along the Pacific Ocean in Oaxaca as I slide into my bathrobe and slippers and open the wooden doors of my two-bedroom suite at the new La Valise Mazunte. Before any other guests have stirred, I make my way to my favorite part of the property: the cliffside infinity-edge plunge pool that appears as if it’s spilling into the sea itself, though it hovers more than a hundred feet above the waves.
I settle into one of the plush sun loungers and begin my morning as I always do. Although I have several playlists that mirror this very landscape, I abandon my headphones and dive straight into my breathwork practice, letting the ocean be my only soundtrack. It’s easy to live this enmeshed with the natural world at a place like this, where Mexican architect Alberto Kalach has carved six suites and a villa designed in the form of a pentagon directly into the side of the mountain. The design is quintessentially Brutalist in its materials yet elemental in how it mirrors the landscape, with local stone, wood, and clay used to create the stunning refuge.
Although this property is the newest in the area, it’s only one of a burgeoning set of Brutalist-leaning boutique respites opening north of Puerto Escondido, a once-sleepy fishing village that has long been admired for its legendary surf break. Though the town has long held an appeal as a relaxed adventure destination, more recently, it’s emerged as an epicenter of the country’s design movement.
The growth of its architectural prowess began in the mid-2000s near Punta Pajaros, an area about 30 minutes north of Puerto Escondido, where artist Bosco Sodi unveiled Casa Wabi, his foundation and artists’ residency designed by Tadao Ando. Shortly after, Grupo Habita’s Hotel Escondido followed suit, establishing a new standard for design hotels in the region. Today, this stretch of coast showcases work by Pritzker Prize winners and rising Mexican talent alike, including private residences by Tatiana Bilbao and a temezcal by the design firm Tezontle.
Though once relegated to the small area of Punta Pajaros—where most travelers desired to eschew the outside world to be enmeshed in the landscape—this design movement is now proliferating farther south into the bustling zones in and around Puerto Escondido. Openings include Grupo Habita s new Hotel Humano, a 39-room property designed by architect Jorge Hernández de la Garza and the team at Plantea Estudio from elemental materials such as clay, concrete, brick, and tropical hardwood.
Similar openings include Casa To in Punta Zicatela, a nine-suite boutique property by Ludwig Godefroy who presents a contemporary reinterpretation of an Oaxacan temple, including a circular concrete portal that frames the pool yet seems to emerge organically from the tropical landscape.
Nearby is Castillo de Arena by Alberto Kalach, which opened at the end of 2024. The 10-room property consists of three tri-level Brutalist towers to make a combined silhouette evoking a sand castle rising from the jungle, with each level connected to a central courtyard where two ancient ceiba trees provide a natural canopy above a reflecting pool. Just across the dirt path is Xique, an eight-bedroom property by locally based Estudio Carroll.
Last but not least, there’s Casa Yuma, a 25-room property built by Mexico City-based architect Ricardo de La Concha and interior designer Sara Skalli that seamlessly integrates the property into the serene surroundings through design: a limestone and resin finish known as chukum is applied to walls and paired with wood, brick, and cement, creating a minimalistic structure that extends along the beach while preserving the natural landscape.
With direct flights now connecting Puerto Escondido to Houston—and service from New York and Los Angeles launching soon—the area’s evolution as an architectural destination shows no signs of slowing, especially with the opening of Kymaia, where I spend the final days of my trip nestled between Mazunte and Puerto Escondido. The 22-room boutique property, designed by architect Ezequiel Ayarza Sforza, dissolves seamlessly into the Oaxacan topography. Though each two-story suite structure is scattered throughout the landscape, and though they’re meant to evoke Japanese design principles, I can’t help but see echoes of ancient Mexica temples in their stepped profiles.
This architectural approach—raw concrete, exposed wood, unglazed clay—feels like a natural evolution of Oaxaca’s centuries-old design traditions. The same hands that shape the region s famous barro negro pottery and weave textiles dyed with cochineal from local cactus insects now work with architects to create these contemporary structures. The materials may be cast in modern forms, but the philosophy remains unchanged: work with what the earth provides, let the elements guide the design, honor the craft of transformation. The Oaxacan coast may be growing and changing at a rapid pace, but at least the type of development feels like it was meant to be here all along.
