Review: Rosewood Mayakoba, Mexico

Getting there

We arrived at Cancun International Airport (CUN), then took a 45-minute drive down Highway 307, where we enjoyed all the beautiful scenery, such as the unlimited reading material provided on the billboards.  At the airport, we were greeted and asked how we wanted our welcome drink: with or without tequila.  Welcome to Mexico.

The real highlight came upon arriving at Mayakoba, where we were whisked to our room by boat—a touch of James Bond villainy that more resorts should adopt.  Gliding through the lagoons felt undeniably cool, and frankly, it’s a clever distraction.  The novelty keeps you occupied for just long enough to prevent you from realising what you’ve signed up for.

Setting

Rosewood Mayakoba is set within the lush landscapes of Mexico’s Riviera Maya, surrounded by dense mangrove jungles, winding lagoons, and a stretch of white-sand beach.  The property is designed to immerse you in nature, with suites tucked among tropical vegetation or perched over tranquil lagoons, giving the illusion of seclusion—until you remember you’re sharing the 595-acre Mayakoba complex with three other resorts.

Let’s be honest, this is not my cup of tea.  Rosewood Mayakoba is part of the part of the sprawling Mayakoba complex, where it shares its surroundings with three other resorts—Banyan Tree Mayakoba, Fairmont Mayakoba, and Andaz Mayakoba—ensuring that any illusion of seclusion is quickly shattered.  The interconnected lagoons and nature trails might sound charming until you realise they serve as highways for guests from neighbouring properties, making it feel more like a theme park.  With all that shared space, privacy becomes more of a suggestion, and the proximity of lower-tier resorts only adds to the feeling that you’re paying top dollar to vacation next door to the masses.

And then there’s the beach.  Or, more accurately, what’s left of it.  The region has been battling sargassum seaweed for years, and the result looks like the aftermath of a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle who’s blown his load and splattered his regrets all over the shoreline.

Facilities

Rosewood Mayakoba has several bars, including the well-known Zapote Bar, famous for its creative cocktails.  If that’s not enough, the entire Mayakoba complex offers around 20 bars and restaurants, which really creates that boutique luxury feel we all know and love.  As for dining, there are too many options to name, but it essentially boils down to Asian, Mexican, or a slightly confused Mexican-Italian mix.

When the crowds became too much, we discovered the over-16s area on the beach—a blissfully quieter spot with its own menu, plus access to the main beach club’s offerings.  A rare sanctuary in a resort that otherwise feels constantly packed.

The spa is a highlight, with a private pool open to all guests, plus heat facilities like a sauna, steam room, and hydrotherapy pool—though the separate-sex setup was a letdown.

Ultimately, the biggest drawback is the sheer volume of people.  For the prices charged, you expect a sense of space and exclusivity.  Instead, it often feels like you’re competing for reservations, loungers, and a moment of peace.

Room

Most of the rooms are built around the lagoons, which is visually impressive.  Ours, an Island Suite #707, was spread over two floors, with minimal decor—almost too plain, as if they ran out of budget for art.  There are two toilets and a large bathroom, which smelled so nice I briefly considered bottling the air.  The private pool was properly heated—so well-heated, in fact, that I had to ask them to dial it down before I became seared caucasian.  The outdoor sitting area was private and peaceful, though the strange, pointless balcony at the foot of the bed—no chairs, no purpose—felt like the drugs had worn off.

Inside, the living room is separate from the bedroom, but since they share a window, sound travels freely between floors.  The mini kitchen area is practical, and both the living room and bedroom have TVs with MyRemote, a system that works well once you figure it out.  The double vanity in the bathroom is convenient, and the outdoor shower is, well, there, being unused as ever.

For two of us, the room size is fair, and I’m glad I didn’t splurge on a larger category.  Bikes are available on request—after signing a waiver that probably advises against nighttime use, considering the buggy drivers tear around like they’re auditioning for Fast & Furious: Mayakoba Drift.

Bedside lamps are touch-based, which took some trial and error, while the rest are dimmers with standard switches.  Unfortunately, the curtains are nowhere near blackout, allowing the sunlight to stage a full invasion.  The air conditioning also deserves a mention—for its talent in producing random noises that woke me up.

The small details were a nice touch, like personalised pillows with our initials, but the design choices made me question whether anyone actually tested the space before opening it.

Service

Staff are unfailingly friendly and eager to help, with a semi-butler patrolling the island on a bicycle, always ready to assist.  Apparently, he’s reachable via the resort’s app, though we never bothered with it.  One evening, the butler knocked to invite us to a cocktail event—open to everyone, but the personal invite was a nice touch.  He also offered late checkout and packing assistance.  During dinner, our waiter occasionally vanished into the ether, though someone else appeared to keep our water glasses full—so no risk of dehydration, at least.

Daily fruit replenishments were a nice touch—especially the grapes, which were suspiciously delicious.  Turndown service included a small wooden donkey with a note, and as a parting gift, they left our personalised pillowcases.

The final night featured a cocktail evening with free drinks, snacks, a dessert area, and live music—proof that luxury is best served complimentary.  Random check-ins from front office or concierge staff were a pleasant surprise, though getting a dinner reservation without booking in advance was nearly impossible.  On the last night, the Asian restaurant only had a 9 p.m. slot, though they managed to squeeze us in at the sushi counter at 7:15—small victories.

The one persistent annoyance was having to sign a bill after the complimentary breakfast, especially since we hadn’t ordered anything beyond the buffet.  It’s a small gripe, but it annoys me.  It’s basically a lure to make you tip for something complimentary.  Lastly, a full site tour upon arrival would have helped us discover hidden spots like the spa pool and adults-only beach area sooner—rather than stumbling across them mid-stay like we’d found Easter eggs.

Food

Lunch options are limited to just two places, which becomes painfully obvious when you arrive at the beach and are greeted by what feels like the entire guest list descending on the same spot.

Breakfast is a decent buffet, assuming you don’t mind queuing up. Dinner service, however, redefined slow: despite booking for 8, we were pushed to an hour later, only to wait a further hour for a main course that they could’ve saved me the trouble by spoiling the ending: not worth the wait.

The Asian restaurant was a solid 6/10—average overall, though the sushi was surprisingly decent.  The beachside Mexican restaurant was the only one worth revisiting; the rest were too bland for the prices charged.  Dining abroad often skews my sense of value, so $200 for Japanese food seemed reasonable until I remembered that’s £150—enough for a meal at one of Mayfair’s finest Japanese restaurants, where I wouldn’t have to wait an hour for something that tastes like it came from a mid-range chain.

The Good

• Service

The Bad

• Too crowded
• Too generic
• Too concretey
• Too poor a beach

The Luxurious

• Spa
• The weather?

Conclusion

Think of Rosewood Mayakoba as a non-beach resort, and you might enjoy it.  Especially if you discover the spa pool and somehow rewrite the laws of physics and manage to dodge the crowds.  It’s not a great resort, nor a great area.  The beach itself comes with a mysterious stink, which I can only assume is the collective regret of the tourists.

Unlike some properties that see wealthy Americans as walking ATMs, this place wasn’t overly stingy, but it’s not enough to make up for the pitfalls.  When I think about a property, it’s not necessarily about value for money—it’s whether I’d want to return.  Here: no.  Too crowded.  It’s not that it doesn’t have its upsides, but there are too many other places in the world I’d rather be.  It’s perfect for families, though, assuming you survive the buggy drivers who treat the unlit bike paths like a Formula 1 circuit.

Coming from Four Seasons Miami, the difference was night and day—no $400 caviar platters, no pretentiousness, just families trying to enjoy themselves.  But whilst this is more my scene than that, that’s like preferring Afghanistan over Iraq.  I can’t see us coming back unless we have a little one and someone’s dropped a bomb on the Maldives.

In short, it’s a terrible beach resort, but an ok resort.  Just don’t go expecting peace and quiet when you’re sharing dinner reservations with 500 other guests.  It was like an invasion of tourists.  Mexico really needs to do something about this.  Might I suggest a wall?