A Conversation with Don Miguel: What It's Really Like Living in Valladolid
Don Miguel Canche Poot is 68 years old. He was born in a small village outside Valladolid, taught mathematics at the local secondary school for 35 years, raised four children in a colonial house on Calle 41, and has watched his town transform from a sleepy Yucatecan backwater to a destination that international travelers actually seek out.
We met at a cafe on the main plaza, where he was drinking a horchata and reading the local newspaper. I asked if I could buy him another horchata and ask some questions. He said yes to both.
On Growing Up Near Valladolid
How did you end up living in Valladolid your whole life?
I grew up in a pueblo 12 kilometers south. We spoke Maya at home — my mother barely spoke Spanish. I came to Valladolid for secondary school, then for the teachers' college, and I never left. The city was different then. Quieter. The plaza had maybe two restaurants, both serving the same food. The cenotes? We swam in them as children. Nobody charged entry because nobody thought tourists would want to jump into a hole in the ground.
When did that change?
Maybe 15 years ago. The Cancun tourists started looking for day trips beyond the hotel zone. Chichen Itza was always popular, but people began stopping in Valladolid on the way. Then someone put Cenote Suytun on Instagram and — pues, you know the rest.
His Favorite Spots
What's your favorite cenote?
Not the famous ones. There's a cenote between here and Tinum — I won't give the exact name because it would ruin it — that my family has swum in since I was a boy. No ticket booth. No changing rooms. Just a hole in the limestone with a wooden ladder and water so clear you can see the bottom at 15 meters.
But for visitors, I'd say Cenote Zaci is the most honest experience. It's right in the center of town. It's 80 pesos. You swim, you watch the cliff jumpers, you eat at the restaurant above. It's not a production. It's just a cenote.
Where do you eat?
The Municipal Market, every morning. I've had breakfast there for 40 years. Panuchos with turkey and pickled onion. Orange juice. Coffee. Thirty pesos. The women who cook there — some of them are the daughters and granddaughters of the women who cooked there when I was young.
For special occasions, my wife and I go to La Casona on the plaza. Their sopa de lima is the real thing — not the hotel version with too much lime and not enough broth. A proper sopa de lima should taste like grandmother's kitchen.
And the dish tourists should try that they usually miss?
Lomitos de Valladolid. Pork in tomato sauce with spices. You won't find this in Cancun, you won't find it in Merida, you won't find it in Mexico City. It's ours. The market stalls serve it for 50-70 pesos. When I tell tourists about it, they look at me like I'm joking — "you have a signature dish?" Yes. We do.
On Tourism and Change
How do you feel about the tourism boom?
Complicated. My nephew runs a cenote tour company. He employs 12 people. That's good. The colonial houses that were falling apart on Calzada de los Frailes are now boutique hotels — the buildings are being preserved because there's money to preserve them. That's good too.
But the cenotes... some of them have become like amusement parks. Rope swings, zip-lines, Instagram platforms. A cenote is a sacred place. The ancient Maya believed cenotes were portals to Xibalba, the underworld. When I see someone doing a backflip into a cenote for a TikTok video, I feel — I don't know the English word. Sadness mixed with frustration.
What do tourists consistently get wrong about this place?
They think it's a stop on the way to Chichen Itza. "We'll spend one night and leave early for the ruins." And they miss the town entirely. They miss the convent light show on Friday evenings. They miss walking Calzada de los Frailes at golden hour when the pastel buildings glow. They miss the ice cream at Sorbeteria El Colon — since 1907, flavors you've never heard of, mamey and pitaya and sour orange.
Valladolid isn't a pit stop. It's a destination. Three days minimum.
And about the Yucatan in general?
People come here thinking they're visiting Mexico. And they are — but they're visiting a specific Mexico. The Yucatan peninsula has its own language (Maya), its own food (cochinita pibil, papadzules, sopa de lima — none of these are from central Mexico), its own architecture, its own history. We were a separate country briefly. We still feel like one.
When someone asks me if I'm Mexican, I say "Soy yucateco." I'm Yucatecan first.
His Recommendations
If someone has three days in Valladolid, what should they do?
Day one: Walk the town. Start at the plaza, eat at the market, walk Calzada de los Frailes to the convent, swim in Cenote Zaci in the afternoon, have marquesitas at the plaza at night.
Day two: The cenote day. Hire a taxi. Hit Suytun in the morning for the light beam. Then Samula and Xkeken — they're adjacent, you see both. Then Cenote Oxman at the hacienda for the rope swing and lunch.
Day three: Chichen Itza at dawn. Leave at 7AM, arrive when the gate opens at 8. You'll have two hours before the buses come. Stop at Cenote Ik Kil on the return. Afternoon free for shopping and rest.
If you have a fourth day, Ek Balam. The Acropolis pyramid you can still climb — the view from the top, the stucco monster mouth... it's the best-kept secret in the Yucatan.
Any spots tourists should skip?
The souvenir shops on the main plaza. They sell the same imported crafts you'll find in Cancun at marked-up prices. Instead, go to the hammock workshops outside town or the craft shops on Calzada de los Frailes for genuine Yucatecan work. A hand-woven hammock from here will last 20 years. A fridge magnet from the plaza will last until you lose it. And if you have time after Valladolid, the car-free Caribbean island of Isla Holbox is just a few hours north, or head to Cancún for flights home.
What about safety?
People ask me this and I laugh. Yucatan is one of the safest states in Mexico. Valladolid is a town where I walk home at midnight. The cenotes, the roads, the buses — all safe. The most dangerous thing here is the habanero chile in the salsa that visitors underestimate.
Parting Words
Anything else you want visitors to know?
Learn one phrase in Maya. Just one. "Bix a beel?" — how are you? When you say this to a vendor at the market or a taxi driver, their face changes. They realize you see them. Not just the cenotes and the pyramids and the food — but the people who've lived here for a thousand years before the pyramids were ruins.
That's what I want visitors to know. The best thing about Valladolid isn't underground or in a museum. It's standing right in front of you, selling you panuchos for 15 pesos.
Don Miguel finished his second horchata, folded his newspaper, and walked home across the plaza. He waved to three people on the way. They all waved back.
