Oaxaca: Hierve el Agua, Mitla & Mezcal Day Trip with Lunch

4.72

(140 reviews)

What’s the experience like?

I honestly didn’t expect the van to be so lively at 8am—someone’s abuela was already sharing tamarind candies. Our guide, Lupita, greeted us like old friends and somehow remembered everyone’s name by the first stop. The drive out of Oaxaca city felt a bit surreal, passing street vendors setting up under that pale morning light. By the time we reached Hierve el Agua, the air was sharp and almost mineral—like you could taste it. Standing at the edge of those petrified waterfalls, I got this weird mix of vertigo and awe (and yeah, I still think about that view). Some people dipped their feet in the pools; I just sat on a rock and tried to take it all in. Two hours went fast.

Mitla was next—hotter there, dustier too. Lupita walked us through ancient Zapotec mosaics, tracing patterns with her finger while explaining how they’ve lasted centuries. She laughed when I tried to pronounce “Lyobaa” (nope), but she said even locals mess it up sometimes. The ruins had this quiet energy—like you’re trespassing on someone else’s memory. Afterward, we hit a buffet for lunch; tlayudas bigger than my head and mole negro that left my tongue tingling for ages. Not fancy food, just honest Oaxacan flavors.

In Teotitlán del Valle, we stepped into a rug workshop where wool hung in every color you can imagine—some shades made from bugs or plants (I touched one skein and it was softer than I expected). The artisan showed us how he crushes cochineal bugs for red dye—honestly wild. Then came mezcal tasting at a palenque nearby: smoky, sweet, then suddenly fiery down your throat. The owner poured tiny glasses and told stories about his grandfather’s recipes—he looked proud but also kind of shy about it.

The last stop was the Tule Tree in Santa María el Tule. It’s hard to describe how wide that thing is without sounding dramatic—it really does look like something out of a storybook. We stood in its shade while Lupita told us legends about its age; some kids played tag around the trunk while their parents snapped photos. My feet were tired by then but I didn’t mind—I left feeling like I’d seen pieces of Oaxaca most people only read about.