When you’re staying at a cabin in the woods, how much does the design of that cabin matter? You’re there for the trees, the birds, the glory of nature—not the architecture. At least, that was my thinking as I drove through the narrow cobblestone streets of Mineral del Chico, a small mountain town just over two hours from Mexico City, to test out a new offering from Wander Cabins, a company that rents design-forward short-term stays in various locations across the Mexican countryside. The setting would put on the show, I figured, and the structure, though handsome, would be a supporting player.

When I get to the site, nature does take center stage; it is a forested hillside that overlooks the surrounding lowlands, like a mountain by the sea. It’s quiet, save for the patter of birdsong, and the sunlight dappled by treetops swaying in the breeze is almost hypnotic. The cabins nestle into the slope, and mine is a green, flat-top box that blends into the earth. From afar, it’s pretty unremarkable, but closer up, its unusual curves become clearer. The two short sides of the 269-square-foot cabin bow out, and Santiago Garcia Rey, Wander Cabins’ founder, shows me how one rounded wall slides away, opening the interior up to the idyllic setting.

Instead of walking through the cabin’s front door, we climb through the massive new portal to get inside. The dark, wood-clad interior is modest—a kitchenette is on the open end, a built-in bed and some seating are in the middle, and the bathroom is on the other end—but high ceilings give the place a grandeur. With the rounded wall opened, it feels less like I’m inside and more like I’m tucked under the canopy of a century-old tree. It’s not a feeling I’ve had in any other forest hut I’ve visited.

The space was meant to be different. “Everyone has a tiny cabin,” Garcia Rey tells me. “All of them are either A-frames or square cabins.” He enlisted Pablo Germenos Garcia and Ernesto Pérez Rea Juncá of the Mexico City architecture studio oioioi to design an unconventional little building. The O-Frame, as the designers call it in a playful nod to its curves, avoids the clichés of other contemporary cabins. Instead of generic walls of glass, it has deliberate cutouts, like the large circular window that the duo placed so that someone lying in bed would wake up to a spectacular view.

A vertical opening on the back of my cabin faces a rock wall just inches away; framed this way, the stones become something like an artwork brushed by moss and roots. There are several O-Frames at the Mineral del Chico property, and the team tweaked each to frame the scenery of its site as well as possible.

Garcia Rey and the designers wanted the cabins to ease into their surroundings. They are mostly prefab, built by Peregrino, a company that Pérez Rea Juncá and Germenos Garcia co-own, in a factory outside Mexico City. Minimal work was done on-site, and there are no poured-in-place concrete foundations. Wander rents its land, and the cabins could hypothetically be removed and leave less damage to the site than conventional buildings.

“Instead of these A-frames or container-like cabins, we thought about how we could break the box or change the experience of the window or how you could enter.”
—Ernesto Pérez Rea Juncá, architect

Eventually, Garcia Rey, Pérez Rea Juncá, and Germenos Garcia leave me so I can explore. Wander Cabins offers many guided nature activities—mountain biking, rock climbing, zip-lining—but I opt for something simpler and go on a hike with Jake Naughton, the photographer documenting the trip for this story; his partner, Juan Anibal Sosa Iglesias; and Eduardo Bazan, our guide. Bazan leads us on a trail that winds down the slopes, past trees covered in Spanish moss, to a spring beside a crumbling tower, where butterflies dance in the air.

A small local dog joins us and rolls onto his back at my feet. It all feels like something out of a Miyazaki movie. Before heading back, we explore a tunnel through the rocks, and, with some gentle encouragement from Naughton, I jump off a waterfall into a creek.

Back at the cabin alone, I read in the hammock, and whippoorwills and brown-backed solitaires sing while the sun sets. I’m wiped and head to bed early, but a stop at the toilet surprisingly brings my journey full circle. From the porcelain throne, I look up and see the light from the nearly full moon pouring through the semicircular skylight above, bathing me in a lunar glow. Nature may be the star, but good design, I realize, can shape the way you experience the outdoors—and, in the process, elevate even the most humble experiences into something beautiful.

Project Credits:

Architect of Record: oioioi / @oioioi_mx

Builder: Peregrino

Vacation Rental: Wander Cabins

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