Las Pozas

What is Las Pozas? It's a sculpture garden just outside of the magic town of Xilitla, in Mexico. This park sits on close to forty acres of jungle and was the brainchild of Edward James, a man who had the money to match his imagination.

The story is that Edward James was the son of a British aristocrat and an American railroad magnate. He was more inclined to art and poetry than the business world. Coming to Mexico in the mid 1940s, he paired up with Plutarco Gustelam and together they created Los Pozas with the help of a good number of skilled local workers. I've heard it called a park, but it looked to me as though it was really a surreal estate, built for a man with entertaining on his mind.

I went early Las Pozas, took a taxi to the gate, and proceeded up numerous stone steps and along many stone-paved trails. I found mosaic snakes, sculptures of odd floral designs, columns of the same, arches that support nothing, and houses that look as though they were never completed There was even a building that housed the molds used to make those concrete creations. One trail led to the water system, another to a waterfall, others led to a pool, houses for exotic pets, and various other little houses. The best known is the double set of winding staircases that seem to lead nowhere on top of the several-story structure at the main entrance which I assume was his primary residence.

I find it really sad that Edward James did not leave funds for the upkeep of his creation. Over the years, the jungle took over and Las Pozas fell into disrepair. Fortunately that is beginning to change.

When asked what I thought of the park, I fumbled through an opinion or two or three, then finally stated that I was really most impressed by the plants and flowers.

Well into the afternoon, sunburned and tired, I took my leave of Las Pozas. Since there was no taxi waiting at the gate, I walked back into town. It was hot and it much of it was uphill and steep. I'm sure I walked a couple of miles along that windy road, sweating profusely, my legs cramping. By the time the taxis started slowing down to check me out, I figured I'd gone so far I might as well walk it all. Silly me. For the next two days my leg muscles were so sore I could barely hobble, especially on steps and slopes, without being in extreme agony.