My First 90 Days in Mexico City: What the Instagram Expats Won't Tell You

Last updated: March 2026

I landed at Benito Juárez International Airport on a Tuesday in September with two suitcases, a one-way ticket from Chicago, and the unshakeable confidence of someone who had watched exactly fourteen YouTube videos about living in Mexico City. Three months later, I was a fundamentally different person — humbler, broker, more sunburned, and oddly happier than I'd been in years.

This is the honest version of that story.

Week One: The Airbnb Panic

Quick answer: Your first week will cost more than you planned, and your temporary housing will feel nothing like home.

I'd booked an Airbnb in Roma Norte for $65 a night because every blog told me that's where I needed to be. What they didn't mention is that $65/night adds up to nearly $2,000 for a month — roughly double what a long-term rental costs in the same neighborhood. My place was on Calle Orizaba, above a mezcal bar that played live music until 2 AM every single night. By day three, I was running on espresso from Buna Coffee on Orizaba and sheer desperation.

Finding an apartment without a Mexican guarantor (fiador) felt impossible. Landlords on Inmuebles24 either ghosted me or asked for six months upfront. I eventually found a one-bedroom in Colonia Narvarte — not the trendy Roma or Condesa neighborhoods I'd imagined — for 14,500 MXN ($725 USD) per month. It was on the fourth floor with no elevator, the water pressure was a suggestion rather than a fact, and there was a cockroach the size of my thumb living behind the fridge. I named him Carlos. We coexisted.

The INM Office: A Masterclass in Patience

Quick answer: Budget at least two full days for immigration paperwork, and bring every document you own — plus copies.

Nothing — and I mean nothing — prepares you for the Instituto Nacional de Migración on Ejército Nacional in Polanco. I arrived at 6:45 AM for my Temporary Resident visa exchange, thinking I was early. There were already forty people in line. By the time I sat in front of an agent at 11:30 AM, I'd memorized the ceiling tiles.

My first attempt failed because my bank statements weren't apostilled. My second attempt failed because the photos I brought were 3x4 cm instead of 3x3.5 cm. On my third visit, I hired an immigration facilitator for 8,000 MXN ($400 USD) and she got it done in two hours. That money was the best investment of my entire move. If you're considering the Mexico country guide, take the bureaucracy warnings seriously — they're understatements.

Month One: The Loneliness Nobody Posts About

Quick answer: Making real friends takes 6-8 weeks minimum, and the expat bubble can be its own kind of lonely.

By week three, I had a routine: coffee at Almanegra Café in Roma Norte, work from a coworking space called Homework on Calle Tabasco (3,500 MXN/month for a hot desk), tacos al pastor from the stand on the corner of Álvaro Obregón and Insurgentes (35 pesos — the best $1.75 I spent daily), and then back to my empty apartment in Narvarte.

I joined every Facebook group and went to three Meetup events. The first was a "language exchange" at a bar in Condesa that was really just twenty Americans drinking mezcal and speaking English. The second was a coworking happy hour where everyone exchanged Instagram handles and never spoke again. The third — a pickup soccer game in Parque México — is where I finally made actual friends. One of them, Diego, a graphic designer from Guadalajara, became the person who taught me how to actually live here. He showed me how to pay my CFE electricity bill at the OXXO, how to get a Mexican phone plan at Telcel without getting upsold into oblivion, and where to find the good tortas in Coyoacán (Tostadas de Coyoacán, if you're wondering).

The truth is, the expat community in CDMX can feel like a revolving door. People come for three months, declare themselves "digital nomads," and leave. Building something deeper requires staying, and staying requires pushing through the part where you eat dinner alone on a Tuesday watching Netflix on your laptop because you don't know a single person in a city of 22 million.

Month Two: When It Starts to Click

Quick answer: Around week six, the city begins to reward your patience with moments of genuine magic.

I remember the exact moment Mexico City started feeling like home. I was on the Metrobús Line 1, heading south toward Coyoacán on a Sunday morning. The bus was packed. A woman next to me was carrying a cage with a parrot in it. A street musician got on and played "Cielito Lindo" on an accordion. Everyone sang along — including me, badly, with my broken Spanish. Nobody cared. That's the thing about this city: it doesn't demand perfection. It just asks you to show up.

My Spanish went from survival-level to functional somewhere in month two, mostly thanks to a tutor I found on Preply (200 MXN per hour, three times a week). I started understanding jokes. I haggled at the tianguis market in Narvarte for avocados. I had a fifteen-minute conversation with my landlord about the plumbing and only had to Google-translate two words.

I also learned the hard way about CDMX's altitude sickness — the city sits at 2,240 meters, and my first attempt at running in Chapultepec Park left me gasping after ten minutes. The air quality days marked "mala" on the CAME app meant headaches and staying indoors. These are things the comparison tools can quantify, but living through them is different.

Month Three: The Reckoning (and the Staying)

Quick answer: By month three, you'll know if this city is yours — and you'll have the budget spreadsheet to prove it.

Here's my actual monthly budget by month three, in USD:

• Rent (Narvarte, 1BR): $725
• Coworking: $175
• Groceries (Chedraui + tianguis): $200
• Eating out (a lot): $280
• Transport (Metro + Metrobús + occasional Uber): $60
• Phone (Telcel plan): $15
• Spanish tutor: $120
• Entertainment/going out: $150
• Total: roughly $1,725/month

That's real. Not the $800/month fantasy some blogs sell, and not the $3,000+ that Roma Norte Airbnb life costs. It's somewhere honest in between.

I'm staying. Not because Mexico City is paradise — the traffic on Insurgentes makes me want to scream, the water situation means I brush my teeth with garrafón water, and I still flinch during earthquake drills. I'm staying because last week, my neighbor Doña Elena brought me tamales on a Tuesday morning for no reason. Because Diego invited me to his daughter's birthday party. Because I can walk to Mercado Roma and eat the best ceviche of my life for $6. Because this city, for all its chaos, made me earn it — and that made it mean something.

Key Takeaways

• Budget for the transition gap: Your first month will cost 40-50% more than your ongoing monthly expenses due to Airbnb stays, deposits, and setup costs. Have at least $4,000-5,000 in reserve beyond your first month's budget.
• Hire an immigration facilitator: The 6,000-10,000 MXN you spend will save you days of frustration at INM. Ask for recommendations in local expat groups before choosing one.
• Live outside the expat bubble: Neighborhoods like Narvarte, Del Valle, and Coyoacán are cheaper, more authentically Mexican, and force you to actually practice Spanish.
• Give it 90 days before judging: The first month is survival. The second is adjustment. The third is when you start to belong. Don't make a permanent decision during a temporary emotion.
• Learn Spanish — seriously: Even basic conversational Spanish transforms your daily experience from transactional to human. Budget for a tutor; it's the highest-ROI expense of your move.

Sources

• Disadvantages of Living in Mexico City: Honest Expat Experience
• 13 Negatives of Living in Mexico
• The Hidden Challenges of Moving to Mexico
• Expat Guide to Living in Mexico City
• Why Living Costs Are Escalating in Mexico City
• Mexico City Expat Guide 2026