Ten Fun Things to Do in Mexico (According to Brits Who’ve Done Their Research on TripAdvisor)
Following the Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office issuing an urgent “stay indoors” advisory for British nationals across Jalisco — and several holidaymakers from Manchester, Birmingham, and Gatwick finding themselves rather unexpectedly “sheltering in place” in a Puerto Vallarta hotel room with nothing but a minibar and existential dread — we present the definitive guide for the British traveller who believes a Thomas Cook brochure from 2019 outranks geopolitics.
1. Invent Your Own Foreign Office Travel Advisory
If Whitehall can do it, so can you. Over a pint at the departure gate, draft your own risk assessment:
- Level 1: Mild sunburn. Factor 30 recommended.
- Level 2: Your dad will ask if you’ve got travel insurance. Again.
- Level 3: The hotel breakfast buffet has run out of proper sausages.
- Level 4: You are currently texting your MP from inside a Mexican jail.
The Foreign Office is simply branding for anxiety. You’ve survived worse. You once queued four hours at Stansted.
2. Tequila Tasting With Situational Awareness
Nothing says cultural immersion like sipping an añejo while casually scanning for “developing situations.” Pair your drink with reassuring phrases such as:
“We’re in the safe bit.”
“My mate Dave said this resort’s absolutely fine.”
“It’s basically Benidorm, isn’t it.”
Experts confirm that British composure accounts for 87% of survival outcomes, according to a poll conducted among three blokes called Gary at the airport Wetherspoons in Luton.
3. Optimism Gymnastics, British-Style
Hear sirens? “Probably a fiesta.” See smoke rising over the hotel pool bar? “Barbecue.” Notice the resort has gone suspiciously quiet? “Lovely, isn’t it. Finally some peace.”
The British brain is magnificently conditioned for denial. We spent forty years insisting the NHS was “fine” and the housing market would “sort itself out.” Mexico is nothing.
4. Practice Geography as a Personality Trait
Every group holiday has one. The bloke who says “We’re nowhere near the dodgy part.”
As if the Jalisco New Generation Cartel operates like a local council, with clearly demarcated zones and a complaints hotline. “Attention residents: disruption scheduled Thursday between 3 and 5 p.m. Please allow extra time for your journey.”
Comforting. In a completely theoretical sense.
5. Practice Saying “It’s Absolutely Fine” With Conviction
When the FCDO issues a “stay indoors” warning for Jalisco, treat it like a weather forecast: acknowledge it, dismiss it, and press on regardless.
If someone at the swim-up bar mentions cartels, respond: “I’ve been on the Tube at rush hour. I understand threat environments.”
That logic is airtight. Probably.
6. Turn the Travel Warning Into a Scavenger Hunt
Why treat European government warnings as warnings when you can treat them as a bucket list?
- Round 1: Spot the armed convoy. Whisper “probably private security.”
- Round 2: Convince yourself the road blockade is a carnival procession.
- Round 3: Ring your mum and tell her the telly’s exaggerating everything.
You didn’t come here for your personal safety. You came here for the Instagram content and a stone off.
7. Taco Diplomacy and the Salsa Question
When tensions feel elevated, order more tacos. Nothing resolves existential dread quite like al pastor with pineapple and a side of rice.
Political analysts have long argued that if world leaders convened over proper street food at 2 a.m., half of global conflicts would be replaced by spirited disagreements over condiment choice. Cartel violence is deeply complicated. Salsa verde versus roja is the real geopolitical battleground.
8. The Influencer’s Risk Management Strategy
Before boarding your outbound flight, post: “Don’t believe everything you read! Mexico is STUNNING and the people are SO warm 🌮✨”
After boarding your return flight — the one that was rescheduled twice due to security disruptions — post: “Honestly so grateful for travel insurance. It’s the little things 🙏”
Consistency is overrated. The algorithm rewards content, not continuity.
9. Call Everything “An Adventure”
Flight cancelled due to security operations? Adventure. Hotel mysteriously changing ownership mid-stay? Adventure. Your partner asking why you ignored official government guidance? Character building.
The British have reframed catastrophe as pluck since Dunkirk. A cartel-related itinerary delay is practically a gap year story.
10. Book Next Year’s Holiday Before You’ve Left This One
Nothing communicates quiet confidence like reserving next summer’s all-inclusive before your current travel insurance claim has been acknowledged.
“It builds resilience,” you’ll tell your partner.
“Or denial,” your GP will note, updating your file.
Why Mexico Travel Warnings Are Not a Suggestion, Even For Brits
Here’s where the jokes settle down for a moment.
Mexico is a country of extraordinary beauty — extraordinary food, extraordinary coastline, extraordinary warmth. It is also a country where regions are gripped by serious, structural violence rooted in cartel power, endemic corruption, and decades of geopolitical drift that no amount of optimism has yet resolved.
The FCDO does not issue “stay indoors” alerts for a laugh. Flights from Manchester, Birmingham, Gatwick and Heathrow were disrupted. British nationals in Puerto Vallarta were told to shelter in place. Guadalajara, due to host four FIFA World Cup 2026 matches, became a ghost city within hours of a single military operation.
The satire here is not aimed at Mexico. It is aimed squarely at a particular strain of British holidaymaker — the one who treats a government advisory like a strongly worded letter from the parish council and books the trip anyway because it was non-refundable and the weather forecast looked decent.
As Lee Mack once observed about ignoring blindingly obvious warning signs: “You knew, didn’t you. Somewhere inside, you absolutely knew.”
Auf Wiedersehen, amigo!
On 22 February 2026, Mexican special forces killed Nemesio Rubén Oseguera Cervantes — known as “El Mencho” — the leader of the Jalisco New Generation Cartel (CJNG), one of the most powerful and violent criminal organisations in Mexico’s history. Within hours, cartel members retaliated by burning vehicles, blocking motorways, and clashing with police across Jalisco and neighbouring states. Puerto Vallarta airport cancelled all international flights. The UK Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office issued an urgent advisory urging British nationals in Jalisco to remain indoors. Flights from UK airports to Guadalajara were cancelled; services to Cancún continued normally, as the violence was centred roughly 1,000 miles away on the Pacific coast. Despite all of this, Mexico remains among the world’s most visited tourist destinations — which is precisely the absurdity this article is poking at.
Harriet Collins is a high-output satirical journalist with a confident editorial voice. Her work demonstrates strong command of tone, pacing, and social commentary, shaped by London’s media and comedy influences.
Authority is built through volume and reader engagement, while expertise lies in blending research with humour. Trustworthiness is supported by clear labelling and responsible satire.
