North America Chevron. Mexico Chevron. Mexico City Chevron. Mexico City has no shortage of gorgeous, design-driven boutique hotelsβand in the Roma neighborhood, they're as common as the streetside al pastor spits being shaved onto tortillas. So when I rolled my suitcase up to Ignacia Guest House earlier this year I was pleasantly pleased with myself.
A friend had booked us in one of those design-driven boutique hotels in the Roma neighborhood. But standing on the leafy street, looking up at the deep gray and teal facade, a budding jacaranda tree drooping lazily over the roof, I noticed there was a stillness to this place, a quietness rather than a buzz.
She told me that the five-bedroom home was built in Lozada and her then-husband bought it in βbut, after their divorce, the idea to transform it into a hotel was a way to hang on to it. Ignacia Guest House opened its door in This one just happens to have decadent crown moldings on the ceiling, minimalist Scandinavian leather furniture, a museum-worthy collection of traditional Mexican terracotta pottery, and chilled mezcals on hand every afternoon at 4 p.
In order to reach the bedrooms you have to walk through the courtyard, which is just beyond the kitchen. Lozada led me past walls of tall, spindly San Pedro cactus and a softly bubbling fountain. I was already feeling relaxed; the entire home felt like an antidote to the megalopolis outside. As if on cue, Lozado turned a heavy brass key to open one of the color-blocked bedrooms that perfectly sums up this old-meets-new design aesthetic. This room was dusty yellow from top to bottom.
The others were mossy green, soft pink, and finally, my room, a deep, calming blue. The suite, she told me, is all black. I only spent two days at Ignacia, but most of that time was spent lingering.
