Oaxaca by Matt Morley

Oaxaca is an amateur photographer’s dream. Leafy interior courtyards hide behind brightly coloured doorways; colonial-era buildings are carefully restored to almost Disney-like perfection and mariachis in full costume enliven the main square after dark.

The Camino Real Oaxaca exemplifies the town’s general “Kodak moment” feel. Originally a Dominican convent dating from 1540, the premises were recently taken over by Camino Real, one of Mexico’s foremost hotel groups, and given a $1.5 million face-lift. Media attention has since bestowed numerous aesthetic accolades upon the place, à la most attractive city hotel in Central America. Arriving in daylight at least, it’s hard to disagree.

Ninety-one colonial era rooms and suites neatly exploit the original character of the convent, making use of ultra-high ceilings, petite window shutters and 20-inch walls for to offer guests total privacy. History is in fact present at every turn, oozing out of the hotel’s countless vaults, frescos and patio-top gardens.

A quick stroll around Oaxaca town suggests this could have been no other way. The Church of Santo Domingo for example, a mere stone’s throw from the front door, is a stunning Mexican baroque building dating from the 17th-century and a worthy UNESCO World Heritage Site. Indeed UNESCO were in trigger-happy mood when they visited this part of the southern Mexico.

Nearby Monte Alban is one of the principal developments of pre-Hispanic Meso-America dating from 500BC and warrants a full day trip at least. Handicraft towns such as Teotitlan Delle Valle boast uniquely preserved artisan cultures and there is even one of the world’s largest and oldest trees nearby too. Small-scale tours are available from the in-hotel travel agency and such outings provide the main drive of most stays here.

This high-cultural theme, perhaps unsurprisingly, pervades much of town life too. Libraries and language schools litter the streets creating a rather studious, bohemian vibe that appears to keep most family visitors away.

While resting your feet in the bougainvillea-not-kiddie-filled garden area then, order yourself a sueño and make like a local. A chilled Mexican beer will arrive in an over-sized glass with fresh lime and a salt rim. Consider this the milder end of gastro-cultural immersion. For a full on assault of the senses, lay your hands on a chicken molé. They are everywhere.

Intimately linked to Oaxaca, molé is a heavy, slow-cooked sauce with seven different variations, one for each of the seven regions within Oaxaca state. Common to each of these are 50+ ground spices and, crucially, a serving of locally made chocolate. The latter is dryer and smokier than anything you will have tasted before. Even for Mexicans though, molé is a special-occasion dish to be eaten infrequently and in modest proportions. There is a very good reason for this.

A similar health warning should be attached to Oaxacan Mezcal, the deep yellow tequila equivalent best known for its worm preserving qualities. If personal experience is anything to go by, this might best be consumed from the relative safety of the Camino Real bar, thereby minimising stumbling distance to your room. Potent stuff.

Comparisons with absinthe and the Parisian art world are particularly apt given Oaxaca’s blossoming creative scene. Every bar, restaurant and internet café seemingly doubles as a makeshift gallery space. Indigenous paintings, sculptures and hand woven fabrics are everywhere, reflecting just how much quality output there is to display. Look hard enough and you may just spot in-the-know art dealers scouting for fresh talent and mark-up potential.

It may not need re-iterating, but a stay here is rather like visiting Florence or Stratford-Upon-Avon; for a few days at least, the past becomes your raison d’être. With this in mind, structuring a stay around a Friday night in order to catch a Guelaguetua dance performance shouldn’t seem too far-fetched.

Seven different dances represent those seven Oaxacan regions again and offer a concise insight into the local folklore, mindset and traditional dress. These dances, outfits and music are still very much alive in many Oaxacan communities today and have been left refreshingly unadulterated for their weekly audiences.

A Guelaguetua evening at the Camino Real is a perfect illustration of how both hotel and town are building upon their rich history while successfully absorbing a rapidly expanding tourism industry. Cliché, pastiche and overt commercialisation have thus far been avoided; in fact the Oaxacans appear to be stubbornly refusing to sell themselves short. It must be something in their drinks. Blame it on the Mezcal.