Taxco (Tas-Ko): silver, silver, silver, more silver, and a big fat mystery

I spent today in the fine town of Taxco. Ever since the Spaniards found out about the silver veins in Taxco’s hills there have been thousands of people slaving away to yank it out. Things have changed a bit since its establishment—the people aren’t actually slaves anymore and the mines no longer operate—but silver remains king here. The majority of shops in town are “Platerias”, selling all manner of shiny things including half-size silver jaguars and full-size silver frogs. But shopping was not high on the to-do list, so our motley crew of 9 (from 6 different countries) did a lot of looking.

More than the silver, we were charmed by the city’s beauty and winded by its steep, ally-like streets. We passed a thoroughly enjoyable morning and afternoon taking in the city and stopping for lunch and coffee along the way. It‘s the sort of city that I could get into. After just a few minutes in Taxco I decided that I would come back again to stay for a few days.

While city itself was delightful, the most interesting part of the day lay at the end of a Swiss-made “teleférico”, or cable car. Atop a mountain just outside Taxco's hillside sprawl are an aging hotel and a few pretty haciendas, all of whom enjoy an incredible view of Taxco and the surrounding mountains. After a turn around the fairly empty hotel, we stumbled upon a place far emptier. We took a little walk. A mere 100m down the street rose a beautiful, multi-terraced hacienda. Bea, a Spanish girl from Denmark, jokingly asked “how do we get up there?” referring to the house’s pristine top floor visible from the road. I was thinking of just how few people were able to enjoy the view from up there when we discovered that the gate to the house was wide open and the grounds looked to have been abandoned some time ago. Needless to say, this intrigued me.

As I walked in through the gate, it became evident that this was not a really nice house, it was the most incredible building I’d seen in all of México. The prime location was complemented by an absolutely beautiful, absolutely gigantic hacienda. The creative genius of this design could only be unleashed by the super-rich. And that made it so nonsensical. This architectural marvel had been abandoned—maybe for more than a year—just before it was finished. The landscaping had grown out of control in the front garden and the spectacular pool was half full of greenish-black water. An tiny, emaciated dog sat on the far side of the pool watching us, though seemingly too unhealthy to move. The whole picture was strange and not a little creepy. But by this time I simply had to explore the house so I pushed through the overgrown bushes and up to the main floor.

The creepiness factor plus my previous encounters with street dogs prompted me to have in hand a fair-sized rock which I reckoned would give me a bit of a mechanical advantage in the event that I had to crush someone/something’s skull. My first objective was to reach the top and take in the view which I did cautiously and without incident. The vista was by far the best the mountain had to offer and the wide open space of the highest terrace was quite tranquil. I was struck by the neatness of the place. Aside from a few broken pieces of masonry laying around, the hacienda was really in great shape. And aside from a broken tennis ball and a melted candle there were no signs of the sketchy revelry that often takes place in abandoned buildings. Presently everyone joined me at the top.

After a good while basking in the glory of our find, we spread out and got to know the place. In our subsequent exploration of the four other floors, including the naturally lighted, bat-laden labyrinth of a basement (only Erwan and I went down there), we counted at least 9 bedrooms, four of which had two formed concrete slabs for queen beds. The tilework in the bathrooms was exquisite and the master suite alone was probably larger than 90% of houses in México. All the while my head was spinning with questions as to how this happened, questions which merit further investigation. I mean, I’ve seen my fair share of aborted construction jobs in México—it’s fairly common to run out of dinero mid-project and bail—but this place was insane. On the very cusp of being Taxco’s nicest house, it was abandoned. Crazy. And kinda spooky. I was in the last group out of the house, still pondering the mystery of it. On the way back I fed the skeleton puppy half of my pb&j, partly out of compassion and partly because I thought that it would nice to have a friend there at the mystery house upon my return. And I do plan to return.

Speaking of returning, I have returned to my bed in peaceful, non-mysterious Cuernavaca. Now I shall sleep.

PS: Photo Guide: 1.) The group (minus Erwan) at a church above downtown Taxco 2.)Erwan, your typical Frenchman, and I in the cable car 3.) Me scouting out the main floor of the hacienda—note the fair-sized rock.