Some trips get planned months out with a themed itinerary. This one, our trip for the World Cup in Mexico City 2026, got planned in about two weeks.
Jose and I had been half-joking about it for weeks (“wouldn’t it be crazy if we just went?”), and apparently Jose took that more seriously than I realized. Tickets had been on his radar, and the second the price dropped to something he liked, he bought four of them, betting that someone else would want to come along. Let’s be real, the prices were too good to pass up.
For the first time in our adulthood, we were able to afford the experience of watching Mexico play in Mexico. This World Cup marked the first time the tournament was ever co-hosted by three countries, and it made Mexico the first nation to host it three separate times. We couldn’t pass up the opportunity. The next time the tournament comes back this way, who knows how long we’ll be waiting. 2030 belongs to Morocco, Portugal, and Spain. So the window felt small, and very much now, tickets in hand and all.
For where to stay, there was no debate. We went straight back to Umbral. We’d stayed there a few years ago and loved it, and this trip reminded us why. It’s so central to everything, and we could walk to Centro HistΓ³rico (where Fan Fest was happening) right from the hotel.
Mexico vs. Czechia at the World Cup in Mexico City 2026
On June 24th, we put on our green, met up with my cousin and her husband, and joined the sea of people making their way to the stadium, four more specks in a crowd that felt like it stretched for miles.
Can we talk about the stadium for a second? It is huge. We’re talking about an hour of walking just to make our way around the perimeter to the entrance we were assigned. And here’s the thing. The party didn’t wait for kickoff, or even for us to get inside. It started the second we stepped out of our Uber and joined the crowd. Everyone around us was already celebrating. That energy alone made the walk feel like part of the experience instead of a detour.
There’s something about being inside that kind of energy, not watching it on a screen, or scrolling through someone else’s version of it, that’s hard to put into words. It’s not something you can explain, only something you feel. The noise before kickoff. The way a whole stadium exhales at once when the ball goes wide. Strangers high-fiving strangers. It was, without question, a bucket list moment.
And then, our seats. Wow. We were less than 11 rows from the field, close enough that we quickly realized we’d landed right next to where the media was set up, which was its own little show to watch. We also got incredibly lucky with which side of the field we were on. It turned out to be the side Mexico scored on, all three goals that day, right in front of us.
But the part I keep thinking about is where else those seats put us. Right by the section where the Mexico players’ families were seated. Every time there was something to celebrate, we watched players break off and run toward that little corner to our left. We enjoyed watching them greet their loved ones and celebrate from afar. And it was also where we watched Memo greet his fans too.
And then there was Memo Ochoa.
I’ll be upfront, I’m not a soccer fanatic. The World Cup has always been the one time I truly tune in, and even then, only when Mexico (or USA) is playing. That’s been true since college, when I first started paying real attention to these teams. Memo Ochoa has been a constant through all of it, the face of Mexican goalkeeping for as long as I’ve been watching, and this World Cup was his last.
Knowing that going in, knowing we were watching him play for El Tri on this stage for the final time, turned the whole match into something I didn’t expect. Not just a fun day out, but a genuinely full-circle moment. Watching him on the field one more time, in person, in his country, greeting fans just rows from where we sat, hit differently. I’m still in awe thinking about it. If this proved anything, it’s that Jose and I are World Cup people now. We’re already talking about the next one.
Mexico won, 3-0. The team played their hearts out and delivered an incredible match. The crowd matched that energy goal for goal – hollering at the top of their lungs, singing Cielito Lindo, throwing whatever they had in their hands straight up into the air. Depending on who you ask, it was either the most fun you could possibly have in a stadium or complete chaos. But if you ask me? Both. (I was screaming for help when tequila ended up in my eyes. Worth it though.)
Beyond the Match
Mexico City gave us plenty to fall in love with outside of match day.
We wandered through the mural-covered halls of Bellas Artes, got lost (happily) along the tiled streets of Condesa, and made the trip out to the pyramids, because you can’t be that close to TeotihuacΓ‘n and not go stand at the base of something that old.
My favorite memory from this excursion was meeting Jose Antonio, a local artist who makes and plays pre-hispanic clay ocarinas carved into different animals. He played us a few songs on the spot and I was mesmerized by his craft and passion.
And of course, we ate well. My favorite was Madre CafΓ© for breakfast, easily the best arrachera we had this trip. This trip added a few new favorites to our CDMX list, enough that I’m going back to update our original Mexico City food post with the new spots, so keep an eye out for that if you want the full food rundown.
Why We Went
If you’d asked us in May whether the World Cup in Mexico City 2026 was on our calendar, the answer would’ve been no. But some opportunities don’t wait for the “right” time. They just show up and ask if you’re in.
We said yes and we’re so glad we did!
xoxo,
Sonia
