Your trips to Mexico City always begin innocently enough.
But then, one misunderstanding over cerveza later, you find yourself on the run from a tambourine-wielding mariachi. In short, you need a place to lie low.
May we suggest a concrete drainage pipe.
Introducing Tubohotel, a set of rooms inside sections of recycled concrete pipes—in an orchard, in the mystical Mexican village of Tepoztlán—taking reservations now.
This is sort of like a high-design, human-sized hamster house. Except there isn’t a giant running wheel. And there are queen-size beds.
So after you’ve finalized your notes on the Distrito Federal’s street cart huarache industry, board the first VIP-class bus headed south and disembark at Tepoztlán. Your glass-fronted hideaway is nestled in a grove of guayaba trees with views of the Sierra del Tepozteco. The rooms are simple: desk light, fan, towels and a bed spanning the tube’s diameter. And the bathrooms, well, they’re in two separate non-tube buildings nearby. (We suggest bringing a bathrobe and a sturdy pair of slippers.)
If you get tired of exploring the immediate surrounds (there’s only so much guayaba one can gather), arrange a hike to the Tepozteco pyramid, mole-cooking lessons with Ana Garcia (a kind of Mexican Rachael Ray) or a pilgrimage to the birthplace of the Aztec serpent god Quetzalcoatl.
We hear serpent gods bring good luck.
But then, one misunderstanding over cerveza later, you find yourself on the run from a tambourine-wielding mariachi. In short, you need a place to lie low.
May we suggest a concrete drainage pipe.
Introducing Tubohotel, a set of rooms inside sections of recycled concrete pipes—in an orchard, in the mystical Mexican village of Tepoztlán—taking reservations now.
This is sort of like a high-design, human-sized hamster house. Except there isn’t a giant running wheel. And there are queen-size beds.
So after you’ve finalized your notes on the Distrito Federal’s street cart huarache industry, board the first VIP-class bus headed south and disembark at Tepoztlán. Your glass-fronted hideaway is nestled in a grove of guayaba trees with views of the Sierra del Tepozteco. The rooms are simple: desk light, fan, towels and a bed spanning the tube’s diameter. And the bathrooms, well, they’re in two separate non-tube buildings nearby. (We suggest bringing a bathrobe and a sturdy pair of slippers.)
If you get tired of exploring the immediate surrounds (there’s only so much guayaba one can gather), arrange a hike to the Tepozteco pyramid, mole-cooking lessons with Ana Garcia (a kind of Mexican Rachael Ray) or a pilgrimage to the birthplace of the Aztec serpent god Quetzalcoatl.
We hear serpent gods bring good luck.
