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Jacuzzis Are Cold & Toilet Seats Don’t Exist: Bathroom Realities in Mexico

Travelling in Mexico on two wheels means embracing the adventure, and that includes the bathrooms! Forget spa-like rest stops or flawless plumbing. Here’s the real deal, the raw truth, and a few pro tips you won’t find in glossy travel guides:


A beautiful mirror in a Guanajuato host home
A beautiful mirror in a Guanajuato host home

Toilet seats are a myth

Most toilets? Naked. No seats. Sometimes you’ll find one dangling off like it gave up on life, but don’t count on it.


The toilet paper shuffle

Rule #1: Paper does not go in the toilet. It goes in the bin beside it. Ignore this, and you’ll be that person who floods the baño.


Bucket flush, baby

Some toilets don’t flush. Enter: the bucket flush. Pour, pray, repeat.

Deep in the Lacandon Jungle
Deep in the Lacandon Jungle

The toilet attendants

Bathroom MVPs, truly. For 5 pesos they’ll hand you toilet paper, sometimes a spritz of perfume, maybe even a smile or random extra. It’s part of Mexico’s informal economy — honest work that keeps these facilities running when city budgets don’t stretch far. Think of it as a bathroom grab bag with a human touch.


The turnstile tango

Want to pee? First, pay the gatekeeper. Drop a coin, spin the full-body turnstile… and don’t forget to grab your toilet paper before entering — that’s a rookie mistake.


Toilet paper in the stall

Found paper inside the stall? Take a moment. Give thanks. You’ve stumbled on rare luxury.


Soap roulette

Pro tip: Test the water first. Otherwise, you’ll be standing there with a palm full of soap and zero running water, trying to rub it off like a raccoon in distress.


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Surprise guests

Bathrooms aren’t always people-only zones. Sometimes the countryside creeps in — scorpions or lizards making a cameo in the baño. Adds… character.


Fun-sized stalls

I’m 5’3”. In some bathrooms, my head pops above the door while my knees wedge against it like I’m doing bathroom yoga.


The motorcycle trouser shuffle

Picture this: sweaty, fitted motorcycle trousers in 45° heat, helmet still on, and a stall the size of a shoebox. It’s performance art. You’ll discover new curse words in you or talents you never asked for.

A cold jacuzzi...definitely refreshing!
A cold jacuzzi...definitely refreshing!

Jacuzzi ≠ hot tub

In Mexico, “jacuzzi” often means: a cold tub with jets. Romantic? Maybe. Refreshing? Definitely.


Hot water: optional extra

In budget spots and rustic cabañas, hot water is more of a suggestion than a guarantee. In mid-range hotels and cities, it’s usually fine — just double-check before you book.


My final flush

These quirks are part of Mexico’s informal and resourceful approach to public services — not flaws, but reminders that everyday life here runs on creativity and hustle.


About Me

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I first rolled into Mexico in 2001, crossing the border by car and catching the bug for the open road. A few years later, I lived in San José del Cabo for a year, then road-tripped my way across the country until, in 2019, I found my true ride: exploring Mexico by motorcycle. Since then, I’ve clocked over 55,000 km through mountains, deserts, jungles, and coasts, and have still only scratched the surface. Now I call Mérida, Yucatán my part-time base, where I’m opening a coworking space for digital nomads when I’m not chasing tacos, dodging topes, and finding the next great ride.

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