15 GREAT PLACES TO VISIT ON THE GULF OF MEXICO!

 

 

The Gulf of Mexico is what this body of water has been called since the mid-17th century, and what the rest of the world still call it. So what, other than racist jingoism, could possibly be a reason to change the name?

 

Some call this our third coast and yes, it needed more attention. Luckily, the Trump administration brought it such. (And does this mean they now approve of the coastal elites who live on this gorgeous, and very expansive, three country thick and long gulf? That could be progress!)

 

Technically the Gulf of Mexico is what they call a “marginal sea” and part of the Atlantic Ocean. It is bordered by five US states (Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana and Texas) on the northern and eastern border, plus five Mexican states on its western and southern border (Tamaulipas, Veracruz, Tabasco, Campeche and Yucatan), and Cuba to the southeast. 

 

Let’s call the area what it is — it’s hot. But tempered by ocean breezes, usually. So if you like sweating, absolutely visit all of these places (our favorites) and you will be thrilled. And sweaty. 

 

The obvious cities like Houston, New Orleans and Tampa you know about, so we’ll skip those. And yes you can easily and enjoyably spend a few weeks going from one end to the other.

 

Let’s start from Mexico…   

 

 

Isla Holbox 

 

 

 

 

A mostly unspoiled, certainly not over-touristed, 26 mile long and narrow island, off the coast of the Yucatan. Because the approximately 6 miles between it and the coastland is fairly shallow water, fairy tale like pelicans and flamingoes flourish there. At the western end of Holbox you can see the otherworldly bioluminescence on dark-sky evenings. You can take a catamaran excursion on a nature reserve to see pink flamingoes convene. And whale shark watching is a thing, especially in the context of there not being much else to watch. 

 

There’s no major airport, and the island is only accessed by small planes and a ferry. Once on the island, most people get around in golf carts or on scooters, as there are almost no cars. The roads are unpaved anyway, mostly just sandy trails. The beaches are, to put it mildly, not very populated — reason enough to go right there. For all this almost desert island feel — they only got electricity in 1987 — there are no shortage of places to stay! You can choose from 75 hotels (Casa Las Tortugas is highly recommended) and over 50 places to eat. Try the lobster, its freshness will be measured in hours.

 

 

 

San Francisco de Campeche

 

 

 

 

This port town is the capital of the State of the same name, and regularly touted as one of the best places to visit in Mexico. Partly because it is one of the least visited by tourists. Which is a wonderful twist of rational thinking.

 

And, consequently, Campeche, as it’s more commonly known, feels undiscovered and native. Its picturesque and colorful buildings are washed in pastel yellows and orange under a bright blue sky. There are some great hotels, like Hacienda Campecha in the middle of town, and Hacienda Uayamon nearby. There’s a reasonably priced Holiday Inn that is right on the water’s edge. So that’s a winner.

 

This city is an archeology lover’s bonanza —  it seems all of Mexico’s history passed through here, with Mayan ruins and preserved Spanish architecture and walls and forts to ward off the pirates, the first wave of unwanted tourists. The food is excellent too and, to whet your appetite, the local specialty is Pan de Cazon, a casserole of shark, tortillas, and black beans and a peppery tomato sauce. Seriously good!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Coatzacoalcos

 

 

It may sound Greek (I mean, that could just be me) but this is an authentic and beautiful Mexican port (and river) city, on the Southern coast of the Gulf of Mexico. Sadly it comes with a warning as it’s not entirely safe (but, you know, it’s not Yemen either) — basically just stay out of La Bahía de San Martín and Unidad Habitacional ISSFAM, which is a menacing sounding housing unit. 

 

Stay near the coast, which is spectacular. And you will eat fantastically, really just about anywhere.

 

 

 

Heroica Veracruz

 

 

 

 

The vibrant capital of the State of Veracruz is Mexico’s oldest port city and world renowned for its regional, mostly seafood cuisine. There’s a strong Caribbean influence to the food, and a leftover sensibility from the Spanish who established the city. You could come here just to eat — try their most famous dish Huachinango a la Veracruzana, a red snapper dish in a European-style tomato, olives and capers sauce, or tequila soaked and grilled octopus. And ceviche, which they may have invented.

 

Walking through the town — cliche alert — is walking back in time. The streets and the Spanish architecture gleam whitely, although part of the city, on the water, is modern buildings and skyscrapers. 

 

 

 

Matamoros

 

 

 

 

Only the River Grande, and that Brownsville border crossing, separate this town, more grandly and officially known as Heroica Matamoros, from the US. And if you wonder where this prefix of “Heroica” comes from, in this case it refers to their winning record in the Mexican-American war, whereupon it became known as “undefeated, loyal, and heroic.”

 

It’s a beautiful city full of historic architecture and structures. The Museum of Contemporary Art of Tamaulipas, (Tamaulipas is the Mexican State) built in the late 1960s, approximately 450 years after the city was founded, is extraordinary in its collection and aesthetic, and one of Mexico’s top museums. 

 

There are actually several excellent museums to visit in Matamoros (Rigo Tovar, Fort Casamata for a start) and the whole place is a sightseeing dream. Restaurants are mostly simple and serve superb local food, but there are several international restaurants too, from French to Argentinian. You can even get American food there. But don’t.

 

 

 

Corpus Christi, TX

 

 

Corpus Christi is like Texas’ beachy middle child—it’s not quite wild Galveston, not as polished as South Padre, but it’s got charm if you know where to look (and you squint a little). The beaches? Not bad. Not Trancoso, but they’ll do. The USS Lexington is parked here, and if clambering around a giant WWII aircraft carrier sounds like your idea of foreplay, congratulations — you’re going to love it! There’s also the Texas State Aquarium, where you can stare down stingrays and wonder who’s really on display. Plus, Selena. Yes, that Selena. She’s practically canonized here, with a memorial that’s equal parts touching and kitschy. Corpus feels like a town trying to punch above its weight class, and honestly, it gets a few good swings in.

 

 

 

Beaumont, TX

 

 

Beaumont is what happens when oil money meets swamp heat and nobody intervenes. It’s not exactly sexy, but it is weirdly fascinating.

 

This place is a living, sweating tribute to the Texas oil boom — Spindletop blew its top here in 1901 and the city’s been trying to live up to that high ever since. The Spindletop-Gladys City Boomtown Museum does its best in that direction by having built a facsimile of the town depicting what it was like at the turn of the 20th century when they hit oil. I don’t know if that’s the sort of thing people hunger to see and will travel to do so, but file it under quirky recreated period sites, and it has an appeal niche.

 

There’s the Texas Energy Museum, which sounds boring until you realize it’s basically a shrine to flammable liquid and unhinged ambition. The gator country tours are a must if you like your sightseeing with a little death-risk, and downtown has a few decent spots that almost distract you from the humidity slowly strangling your will to live. It’s quirky, it’s greasy, and somehow… it works. 

 

 

 

Lafayette, LA

 

 

 

 

This romantic, picture-postcard city is what you get when you stir zydeco, gumbo, and a whole lotta joie de vivre (say that with a Southern drawl) into a pot and let it simmer with just a touch of chaos. 

 

This is the heart of Cajun country, baby. The food here doesn’t just slap — it full-on sucker punches your tastebuds with spices and sass. Expect boudin, crawfish, and something unidentifiable that tastes like it was cooked by your grandma’s sassier, boozier sister. The music? Live, loud, and usually played on instruments that look like they were stolen from a folk museum. You haven’t lived until you’ve two-stepped with a sweaty stranger in a dancehall somewhere outside of town. 

 

Lafayette is that lovable cousin who always shows up late to family functions with a beer in one hand and a story that probably ends in a misdemeanor. Wild, warm, and weird in all the best ways.

 

 

 

Baton Rouge, LA

 

 

Louisiana’s capital, and you can tell because it’s got the vibe of a city constantly trying to prove it’s important. It’s like New Orleans’ uptight older sibling — still fun, but with a side of politics and a weird obsession with LSU football. 

 

The downtown is trying really hard to gentrify, which means you’ll find craft cocktails and exposed brick next to buildings that look like they lost a knife fight. The old state capitol looks like a rejected Dracula castle set piece, and yes, that’s kind of its charm. There’s some genuine Southern history here if you’re into that—plantation tours, civil rights museums, and the usual “America’s complicated” vibes. Come for the food, stay for the “what the hell is this town even trying to be?” energy. It’s confusing, messy, and occasionally stunning — like Louisiana itself.

 

 

 

Biloxi, MS

 

 

 

 

This is the Gulf Coast’s glittery little underdog  — part casino chaos, part beach town, part “Wait, are we in Mississippi?” moment of disorientation. It feels like Vegas and Pensacola had a baby, raised it on shrimp and slot machines, and never quite taught it to sit still. The casinos are everywhere — so if you’ve got a few dollars and a self-destructive streak, welcome home! 

 

But there’s also surprisingly nice beaches, a half-decent aquarium, and enough seafood joints to make you forget your diet. Hurricane Katrina did a number on Biloxi, but the town’s got that resilient, slightly stubborn Southern soul that just keeps rebuilding with a grin and a daiquiri. Biloxi might just change your life, plus give you a story or three and a mild sunburn.

 

 

 

Mobile, AL

 

 

 

 

This is the original Mardi Gras city, and it’s been carrying that “we did it first!” energy like a badge of honor ever since. It’s got New Orleans vibes, just dialed down by about 30%—less chaos, more genteel weirdness. The downtown area is walkable, charming, and just a little haunted, like it’s seen some things and isn’t telling. The USS Alabama battleship sits here looking like it’s ready to fight Hegseth, and the historical homes will have you suddenly contemplating why you never bought a mint julep set. 

 

Mobile Bay gives you breezy views and sunsets that practically beg for a sappy Instagram post. It’s slower, softer, and sneakier than you’d expect — a Southern belle with a flask tucked in her corset and stories she’ll only tell after her second bourbon.

 

 

 

Pensacola, FL

 

 

 

 

Pensacola is Florida’s military beach town — basically where the Gulf Coast goes to get sunburned and salute something. It’s home to the Blue Angels (aka fighter jets doing backflips because subtlety is for the Army), and if you’re lucky, you’ll catch them screaming overhead while you sip something frozen and neon. 

 

The beaches are honestly stunning — white sand, clear water, and just enough frat bros to keep you mildly annoyed but entertained. The historic downtown’s got charm in a “Pinterest-approved” kind of way: brick streets, good seafood, and cocktail menus with too many adjectives. Pensacola is Florida with a Southern accent, a hangover from spring break, and a surprisingly good oyster bar around every corner. Don’t overthink it — just grab a beach chair and go.

 

 

 

Panama City, FL

 

 

 

 

Panama City is basically spring break’s sweaty ghost still haunting the Florida Panhandle. If you went to college between 2003 and 2013, odds are you blacked out on this beach at least once. The city’s cleaned up a bit since then, but there’s still a hint of regret in the air. The beaches? Genuinely beautiful. Powdery white sand, turquoise water, and enough sunscreen-slathered tourists to start your own reality show. 

 

There’s some family-friendly stuff now (like the world-famous Ripley’s), but Panama City never quite lost its party soul — it just put on a sundress and started day-drinking instead. It’s equal parts tacky and terrific, and if you lean into the chaos, it delivers. Just maybe leave your dignity at the hotel.

 

 

 

St. Petersburg, FL

 

 

 

 

St. Pete is where your cool aunt moved after her third divorce and found her bliss. It’s artsy, beachy, and way hipper than you’d expect from a city that used to be known mainly as God’s waiting room. I think they all came from NY at some point? These days, downtown St. Pete is a mural-covered haven for craft beer, vintage shops, and people who say things like “farm-to-glass.” 

 

The Salvador Dalí Museum is straight-up spectacular, and the beaches are pristine enough to make you believe in filtered reality. The vibe is equal parts retro Florida and progressive coastal cool. It’s also weird in the best way — like a beach town that discovered meditation and microdosing. If you’re tired of Miami’s ego and Orlando’s children, St. Pete is your soft landing. Quirky, sun-drenched, and surprisingly soulful.

 

 

 

Sanibel Island

 

 

 

 

Off the coast of Florida, but not that much off because a three mile-long bridge connects it from Fort Meyers, this little island seems to float in its own time and dimension. It has gorgeous, mostly uncluttered beaches and is half National Park. It has a boardwalk that snakes through wetlands, like that was a common occurrence. And apparently most of the Atlantic ocean’s sea shells wash ashore here, because it’s world renowned for collectors. (The insider tip to get the best ones is to go at or before dawn. Personally, I want more than a sea shell if I have to wake up before dawn… But here’s all you need to know:)

 

There is, naturally, a shell museum.

 

The best hotels are probably the Marriott Sanibel Harbor Resort and Spa, and the Sanibel Inn. You can’t go wrong either way because the magical feeling of the island is much more Caribbean unhurried, luxuriant life-balance than it is agitated, polarized American grind. 

 

And that’s priceless.