Forget what you know about all-inclusive resorts. This one in Playa del Carmen changed my mind.

AThe food at most all-inclusive resorts on Mexico’s Riviera Maya tends to be so boring, you’ve already forgotten about your favorite meal by the time you check in for your flight home.

But it’s been months since I left Palmaïa—The House of AïA, an all-inclusive resort in Playa del Carmen, and I’m still thinking about the waffles. Green and blue from spirulina and matcha, topped with dollops of pumpkin seed puree and finely chopped tangy fruit, they were somehow both nourishing and indulgent. I ate them on the last morning of my stay, as a big iguana kept watch for crumbs and a drizzle of rain made it clear my time at the beach was officially over. That breakfast was a small moment—but one that captured everything this resort does differently.

Palmaïa isn’t your typical all-inclusive resort—and that’s exactly the point. From the food to the philosophy, everything about the property is designed to feel more intentional, more nourishing, and more connected than what you’ll find at most beachfront resorts in the region. It’s a wellness destination that can be as woo-woo (or as grounded) as you want it to be. And in contrast with its earthy ethos and jungle setting, it doesn’t skimp on luxury.

Here’s what makes Palmaïa different and why it’s worth considering for your next all-inclusive vacation to the Riviera Maya.

All-inclusive dining done with care

Palmaïa had been on my radar ever since I heard a vegan all-inclusive resort had opened in Mexico five years ago. That alone felt like a novelty in a destination where I need to explain my dietary restrictions over and over again at most resorts (and there was always still a chance I’d end up with chicken in my enchiladas). Just knowing that I could eat anything on the menu without having to explain myself was reason enough to visit (though far from the only thing that makes Palmaïa worth the trip).

By the time I visited, Palmaïa had officially started identifying as “plant-based” rather than strictly vegan—a shift that reflects founder Alex Ferri’s perpetually evolving beliefs about health and balance. The resort’s culinary program is guided by what it calls the “nourishing biome” approach, which promises no seed oils, minimal processed ingredients, and a focus on organic produce wherever possible.

The idea is that by stripping away the most harmful parts of the modern diet, you’re left with food that’s deeply nourishing and unlike anything you’ve had at other all-inclusive resorts. Think healthy-ish, without sacrificing flavor—or fun. After all, this is a resort that has its own vegan taco truck permanently parked at the beach. And that’s just one of several places you can dine. Palmaïa also offers a breezy all-day beachfront restaurant, an Asian-inspired dinner spot, an elevated Mexican concept, a blissfully air-conditioned café with downright delicious pastries, and 24-hour room service, for when you can’t be bothered to change out of your robe.

At last count, the resort had more than 250 dishes on rotation across its venues, so meals never felt repetitive—and there were no sad salads anywhere. Some of my favorite bites at Palmaia included margarita pizza with cashew cheese on sourdough crust, meat-free carne asada tacos with spicy salsa, roasted mushroom enchiladas, vegan nachos, and molletes (a classic open-faced sandwich with refried beans, pico de gallo, and cheese).

This was the kind of healthy that didn’t feel like a compromise. Even now, months later, I’d happily book a return ticket for the matcha waffles alone. That says a lot about what’s possible when an all-inclusive resort doesn’t treat food like an afterthought.

Luxury design that doesn’t interrupt the moment

Most all-inclusives hit you with a lot of eye candy the moment you walk in—palatial lobbies, marble floors, chandeliers decked out with crystals trying desperately to impress their guests.

There’s nothing wrong with that (resort décor should make you feel like a VIP). But Palmaïa takes a unique approach to its design, and that’s part of what makes it stand out in the sea of all-inclusive resorts in the region. Instead of dazzling guests with grandeur, it eases you into a sense of calm through natural textures, minimalist lines, and spaces that feel more like a sanctuary than a showpiece.

That’s not to say there aren’t striking design elements. Scattered across the property are larger-than-life sculptures, including a psychedelic mushroom near the beach and an awakened female face meant to represent AïA, the resort’s spiritual muse. The latter was created by renowned artist Daniel Popper and adds a mystical focal point that feels perfectly in tune with Palmaïa’s vibe.

Then there’s the gorgeous bistro, Plantissa, arguably the most modern space on the property. With its floor-to-ceiling windows, plush green seating, arched doorways, wooden tables trimmed with gold, and tropical wallpaper, it feels like a design-forward oasis for slow breakfasts and afternoon pastries.

The same aesthetic extends to the guest suites, which are airy, open, and subtly luxurious. Expect natural wood finishes, soft lighting, geometric textiles, and calming green tones that echo the color palette of the surrounding jungle. Freestanding soaking tubs (some of the largest I’ve ever seen at an all-inclusive resort!) and spacious seating areas make the rooms feel more like a private retreat than a place to drop your bags. And if you’re lucky enough to score a swim-out suite, your own pool is just steps from the sliding glass door.

But overall, Palmaïa lets the setting speak for itself, with design choices that feel deeply connected to its jungle-kisses-the-sea location. Think: Thatched huts on the beach, a driftwood altar overflowing with half-melted candles, and basket-style pendant lights hanging over the restaurants. It’s the kind of place that makes it easy to let go—and maybe that’s the most luxurious feeling of all.

Choose-your-own path to wellness

At most all-inclusive resorts, “wellness” translates to a token yoga class at sunrise or a basic massage at the spa. Palmaïa takes a much more expansive (and frankly, far more interesting) approach.

Each week, the resort offers more than 54 different classes and rituals led by a rotating cast of local guides. Nearly all of them are part of the all-inclusive package, which makes it easy to say yes to things you might hesitate to book if they came with a hefty surcharge.

During my five-day stay, I tried around a dozen different experiences, including gentle yoga, an intuitive fragrance workshop, a drawing class by the beach, and a sound bath that nearly lulled me to sleep on the mat. I also signed up for two extra activities: a private soul-reading session and a mezcal-focused spa treatment that was unlike anything I’ve experienced before. While not included as part of the package, they were interesting enough to justify the surcharge.

But the beauty of Palmaïa is that wellness isn’t confined to the schedule. I found myself meditating in the bonsai greenhouse, taking an impromptu cold plunge in a cenote, cycling on winding paths through the jungle, and spending contemplative stretches in a thatched hut overlooking the sea. All of it helped me find my own rhythm of rest and reflection.

But the best part? There’s zero pressure to do any of it. You can fill your itinerary to the brim or spend your days wandering the property barefoot, pausing only when something calls to you. It’s wellness on your terms—and that kind of freedom is its own kind of healing.

Palmaïa doesn’t just check the boxes of what an all-inclusive should be—it quietly rewrites them for travelers who want something deeper than unlimited margaritas and flashy hotel lobbies. Come for the matcha waffles, stay for the cenotes, and leave with new expectations of what an all-inclusive resort can be.