Rosewood Mayakoba is run by a fun golfer who’s also a darned good GM, Edouard Grosmangin – above, with Kat and an interloper. is for discerning sophisticates who are equally at home wearing exaggeratedly enormous Helen Kaminski summer hats and flip-flops and possibly having a preschooler in tow and at the same time calorie-counting, cycling along to one of the two beaches.
This is the Mayakoba resort for the confident who don’t need to show off. It comes naturally. Its 128 villas are, like those of its siblings, lightly cantilevered over the lagoons that meander through the mangroves that constitute Mayakoba. Girlahead sits on her totally private stone terrace at the rear of Villa 102: the terrace is about 40 square meters, with dining for three, lounging for six, and lie-back lounging for two. There's a heated pool, five by three meters. Twenty stone steps lead down to the landing jetty. Here, bamboos and palms, seemingly rising sky high, intrude into the mangroves. Beyond and through, it's just possible to glimpse a lagoon canal. It's so calm, you don't hear anyone else around.
Inside, the villa is calm too. The same deliberately cut sand-colored marble flooring with a two small mats underneath the seating area. It's obviously minimalistic by design. Accents are recessed – limited areas of the otherwise all-white walls are painted mid-gray. Behind the long four-seat built-in oatmeal-colored sofa is propped a semi-transparent white fabric woven something. On one end of this sofa is a Marshall radio. The other end holds a six-unit weight stand. There are two double beds, both very comfy. The villa has a three-blade wood ceiling fan, a swing-around wall-set television, and no overhead lights other than in the foyer. The mini bar cabinet, an artwork formed of woven bamboo strips, includes all the usuals, plus two each double-size bottled Rocas cocktails: Cosmopolitan, Negroni, and Paloma. The coffee machine has ceramic mugs as well as paper cups. A round dining table bears a full-size bottle of mezcal, with adjacent mixers. Butler Carlos mixes with lots of shaking on arrival. Fortunately, there's enough guacamole and chopped tomato, plus little cracker bits, to be able to constitute an ample arrival evening snack. The bathroom is blessed with a seated makeup area with lighted magnifying mirror that's good for close-up. The main bathroom beyond, with two sinks, is dominated by a sunken circular tub of dark apricot-colored small tiles. The circular shower, also tiled, opens to an outdoor area. Toiletries are Jazmin Yucatan, in soft green push-pot containers by La Bottega. There's also real soap, which spells LUXURY.
The spa is sensational. You're led into a forest, a forest of local trees soaring up to the sky, a long wooden path to one of the cabins, seven cabins set in amongst the undergrowth. Evidens is the product used, apparently - but Girlahead was so relaxed, she got on the bed, closed her eyes, and the next thing she knew it was all over. She had to recover by going back to the spa reception and to the next door gym, or gyms (it’s in two rooms). There was no delay in waiting for a buggy, golf carts they call them here. There seems to be a nonstop succession of vehicles, and this time a trip to the beach, or beaches, was warranted. There are two adjacent beaches: one family style, with quite a lot of noise, and an adults-only facility that is the epitome of calm. Leave The Row’s Beach Flip Flops before you venture. A tent next to the grown-up beach was being set up for an evening event (apparently there are two groups in-house at the moment). This would be an ideal place for a small group…
