A Tour of the Quinta Real Oaxaca Hotel and Its Gorgeous Gardens

Learn this UNESCO site’s colorful past, from convent to cinema, from prison to palace — and even a Masonic lodge still in use — and explore its beautiful grounds. 

A tour of the grounds of the Quinta Real Oaxaca hotel yields unexpected delights, like this glimpse of a lush interior courtyard.

It’s undeniably one of the most popular hotels in Oaxaca, and even though we weren’t staying there, we read that we simply had to have a drink there and admire the gardens, which rivaled those at the Alhambra in Spain. (They’re perfectly delightful, but that’s a bit of a stretch.)

Duke and I popped into the Quinta Real on our last day in Oaxaca. We wanted to get a drink and enjoy it in one of their courtyards — but we couldn’t find an actual bar at the hotel; you have to sit at a table to get served. Not sure if we’d be able to get a drink and wander around, we opted to forgo the booze and just wander the grounds on our own. 

“In the late 1800s, a buyer purchased the northeast section of the property to use as a Masonic lodge — which still operates to this day!”

One of the highlights of an exploration of the grounds is the stone gazebo and fountain in the Los Lavaderos Courtyard, so named because it was once used for laundry by the nuns.

Repurposed a Seemingly Endless Number of Times

The hotel began as property of the Roman Catholic Church, much like the Ex Convento de San Pablo, about another historic building in town, now home to the Casa Antonieta boutique hotel, the Textile Museum of Oaxaca and the Centro Cultural de San Pablo. 

The Quinta Real is housed in the former Convent of Santa Catalina de Siena, which was built in 1577. The nuns lived a life of seclusion and quiet meditation there for centuries — until 1859, when they were booted out by Benito Juárez’s Reform laws, which nationalized the church and seized its property. 

“The monument would then begin a long history of deterioration, monstrous construction work and atrocious transformations,” reads a sign out front. 

You can see part of the original convent exterior in the gorgeous pool area.

Not a bad spot to catch some rays

The ex-convent was put to a crazy amount of uses by the state government. In addition to a stint as a prison from 1862 to 1958, the structure also housed, at varying times, the civil registry office, the weights and measures office, the state printing press, a police precinct, the craftsman’s society, criminal courts, a night school and the Abraham Castellano Primary School from 1956 to 1962. 

What was the convent’s atrium even became the municipal palace for almost a century, from 1873 to 1970. 

Cantera stone, used in the façade of the convent, which is now a hotel, has a distinctive greenish color.

The Quinta Real is succulent — in more ways than one.

The sprawling grounds have undergone numerous and varied uses over the years, including a police precinct, printing press, school — even a municipal palace!

The Quinta Real is housed in the former Convent of Santa Catalina de Siena, which was built in 1577.

The Quinta Real property takes up an entire city block and has lots of nooks to discover. It’s now a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

In the late 1800s, a private buyer purchased the northeast section of the property to use it as a Masonic lodge — which still operates there to this day!

The onsite chapel has its own storied past: It was first converted to a municipal warehouse, but in the 1930s it became an art school, and then a movie theater from 1950 to 1960. Then, in 1972 the chapel was finally restored, along with the rest of the estate, when it was reconceptualized as a hotel. 

Paintings and statues can be found throughout the hotel.

Be sure to check out the faded fresco on the wall of the gift shop.

The old chapel was empty when we explored the hotel but would make a good event space. It was once used as a cinema.

The Quinta Real has been designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It’s worth a visit, even if you’re not staying there, to wander and admire the grounds. Try to figure out a way to have a drink in the gardens — and don’t set your bag down (thankfully empty of everything but the chocolate bars we bought at Mamá Pacha) to take pictures and leave it like I did. –Wally

Orange trees give the restaurant, Los Naranjos, its name.

This dining area, Los Cántaros, has an interesting art installation. Those ceramic containers, cántaros, were unearthed during the renovation and were once used to as pitchers or to hold oil.

Quinta Real Oaxaca

5 de Mayo 300
Ruta Independencia
Centro
68000 Oaxaca de Juárez
Oaxaca
Mexico

 

Fascinating Food Plants of the Oaxaca Botanical Garden

Maize, squash, chili peppers, amaranth: Many food plants were domesticated in Mexico. Learn more on a tour at the Jardín Etnobotánico de Oaxaca.

The first part of our tour of the Oaxaca Botanical Garden covered the many food plants grown there.

“I will show you plants that are edible,” said Carol, our guide extraordinaire at the Oaxaca Botanical Garden. “I hope you try them someplace. But not here.” 

“Corn was very likely domesticated here in Oaxaca. It’s the most widely planted cereal grain today in the world — more than wheat or rice.”

The first part of our tour of the Oaxaca Botanical Garden covered food plants. Here Carol, immensely knowledgeable and quite funny, explains them in her own words:

What was the first domesticated food plant in the Americas? All signs point to squash.

The Beginning of Food Domestication: Squash

Corn, beans and squash — that famous trio that everybody knows, those plants domesticated here in the Americas that have been so important for so many thousands of years.

The earliest evidence that so far has been discovered for a domesticated food plant in the Americas is squash. The evidence comes from right here, from an archaeological site located here in the valleys of Oaxaca. It’s a site called Guilá Naquitz. Archaeologists found clear evidence of domestication of food squash dated about 8000 BC. 

When we think of squash as a food, we usually think of the fruit — but it seems likely that the initial interest in squash as a food plant was for its runners and for its flowers. And, subsequently, as the plants got bigger, the seeds were important and toasted — and then the fruits themselves. 

Yup, that bowl of mush is actually a popular drink in Mexico called tejate.

Cocoa Flower Tree, Mamey and That Strange Beverage, Tejate

While it doesn’t look like a food plant, one tree makes a small white flower that’s edible. 

The tree is called, popularly, flor de cacao, or cocoa flower tree. It is not a cacao tree. The flower, however, is an important ingredient in a traditional Oaxacan beverage called tejate. And if you have been walking along the street in Oaxaca or or been to our markets, you have seen tejate — it’s so common here. 

It’s a beverage the color of café au lait, and it’s usually kept in a big shallow pottery bowl and it’s got foam or froth on the top — it’s really hard to miss. It’s rather unique looking. 

Tejate is a drink made on a maize base. Corn-based beverages are typically pre-Hispanic. So to make the tejate, women prepare the corn in a particular way first. They add real cacao to that — but not a heavy chocolate.

It does have cacao, but it also has the seed of an American tropical fruit that many people don’t know: the mamey. They’re about the size of a large avocado. They’re dark brown on the outside and slightly fibrous. But when you cut them open, they’re gorgeous. They have a soft flesh the color of salmon or peach; they’re lovely looking and delicious. Makes great desserts — look for tarte de mamey or mousse, and they often make it into sorbet, nieve.

Wally and Duke have yet to try a mamey, which they learned about from Linda — but they’re on the hunt for one.

But for the drink, they toast the seed, plus the dried flowers. Grind all that together into a doughy or pasty mixture. If you want, you can add water right away and make the drink, but usually they just let that mixture dry and it crumbles into powder form, dehydrated. In powder form, for hundreds of hundreds of years here, people have had an instant beverage that’s storable, it’s portable. You just add water to drink.

So many peppers, so little time. There are 60 types grown in Mexico alone!

Chili Peppers and Their Healing Properties

Peppers are an American domesticated food plant. All the peppers, and I repeat, all the peppers, were originally domesticated here in the Americas. If you can imagine so many cuisines of Africa and Asia and Europe without peppers. But historically speaking, peppers are relatively recent introductions to those regions. 

Peppers botanically are classified in a genus called capsicum. There were five species of capsicum domesticated. Three species were domesticated in South America, one species indeterminate still, and one species definitely here in Mesoamerica. Of those five, it’s the Mesoamerican species that dominates the world. This is called capsicum annuum. It has hundreds of varieties and just about every pepper you know anywhere in the world, regardless of the size and shape, how picante or not — they are all capsicum peppers. 

Not surprisingly, Mexico cultivates a greater diversity of peppers than anyplace else. There are 60 named varieties of peppers that are grown here in Mexico. The state of Oaxaca grows more varieties of peppers than in any other part of Mexico. It is no doubt this diversity of peppers used here in Oaxaca that accounts in large part for the richness of Oaxacan cuisine.

Loaded with vitamin C and capsaicin, peppers should be a part of everyone’s diet. Wally and Duke add them to most meals they prepare — and double the amount suggested.

Peppers are very nutritious. I hope everybody’s eating lots of them — they are really good for you. They’re very rich in vitamin C. Going back to pre-Hispanic times, peppers have had medicinal use, and that continues today into the pharmaceutical industry. Modern pharmaceutical companies are using the substance of the pepper that makes it hot. It’s an alkaloid called capsaicin. Everybody knows capsaicin burns your lips and your eyes. I’m sure you’ve all had unfortunate meetings with peppers. But capsaicin also blocks pain signals to the brain. It has analgesic qualities, and it permits greater blood flow to the skin surface. So there’s lots of new products: patches to treat your back and you can get all kinds of new products to treat muscle injuries, muscle aches, to treat arthritis made from capsaicin. Many of those products are over the counter, so do look for them.

Amaranth are super nutritious and are becoming all the rage — though it’s been popular in Mexico since Aztec times.

Amaranth and Alegrías, or “Happiness Bars”

Turning to another food plant, with greenish leaves and red stalks. That is a food plant that I’m sure many of you have heard of but may not recognize: That’s amaranth. It’s becoming very popular again. Amaranth was actually domesticated independently in Asia and here in the Americas. The Asian amaranths are known as leaf amaranths, because the part of the plant that people eat are the leaves. So think spinach — whatever you can do with spinach, you can do with leaf amaranth. And in fact, amaranth and spinach are botanically related. 

The species that were domesticated here in the Americas are called seed amaranths. You can certainly eat the leaves when they’re young and tender, but those feathery flower stalks make thousands — who knows? I’ve never counted them — of tiny little black seeds that are edible. 

You can eat the seeds as you harvest them. Or you can toast amaranth seeds. And when you toast it, it turns into what looks like tiny little popcorns. This is what we call pop amaranth. You can eat it in this form. You can sprinkle it on top of your cereal, your salad, whatever. Or you can grind it into flour.

The seed amaranths of the Americas are one of those incredibly nutritious food plants — among the most nutritious in the world. There is absolutely nothing bad about amaranth and every good quality to a food you imagine. It was probably the single most nutritious food plant in the diet. Pre-Hispanically, huge quantities were consumed. Huge quantities we know flowed into the Aztec capital Tenochtitlan as tax or tribute paid by conquered areas.

Shortly after conquest, it disappeared as a major food plant. It survived here as a candy. And you can still buy the candy here. Lots of people think they’re sesame bars, but they’re not. They’re toasted amaranth bars. Some are squares, some are round, some are long and rectangular, whatever, but it is amaranth. They have the happy name of happiness bars. They’re called alegrías, and alegría means happiness. My personal opinion is that amaranth’s major flaw is it doesn’t have a lot of flavor. But that’s good because you can add it to so many dishes. But that means that alegrías don’t have a lot of flavor other than the sweetness of the honey that holds them together. So look for the alegrías with chocolate added to them. Those are happier.

Alegrías look much too healthy to be named “happiness” bars.

Twenty years ago, maybe 25 now, NGOs came into Oaxaca to reintroduce amaranth as a cash crop, but also to reintroduce it into the diet, where it could certainly make a significant difference, especially for children — it’s very high in protein.

Restaurants are going back to traditional foods, so look at menus, they sometimes feature dishes with amaranth. And it’s been used in commercial food production — a lot of new products being made with amaranth to increase the nutritional quality.

There are over 60 types of corn grown in Mexico, and the crop is more widespread than wheat and rice.

The Evolution of Corn and the Amazing Spread of Maíz Criollo

We have a young crop there and a more mature crop of corn or maize. That kind of corn is called Creole corn, or maíz criollo, and that refers to the kinds of corn that farmers throughout Mexico and here in the state of Oaxaca grow principally for home use.

To plant a new field of my maíz criollo, households just save some seeds from a previous harvest and replant them.

I grew up in Canada, where corn was yellow. That was it. So all I knew was yellow corn. I sort of had a vague notion there were other colors because at Halloween or Thanksgiving, we bought those bunches of what we call Indian corn, multicolored dried corn. You didn’t eat it; you just hung it on your doors as an ornament. Then as an adult, I learned there was white corn, as well. Ooh! A big addition to my knowledge!

And then I came to Mexico and discovered an absolutely incredible richness that I certainly was not aware of: well over 60 varieties of maíz criollo grown traditionally here in Mexico — different colors, shapes, sizes, growing conditions, flavors, you name it. It’s just an incredible richness.

The state of Oaxaca grows more varieties of maíz criollo than any other part of Mexico. Thirty-seven varieties of maíz criollo are grown here in the state of Oaxaca.

How did we get corn? Where did it all start? Everyone now seems to agree the ancestor is the wild grass called teosinte. It is genetically very closely related to domesticated corn but morphologically very different. 

I think everybody knows how to plant corn. You stick a seed in the ground and up comes one stalk. And then you get an ear of corn per stalk, and if you’re really lucky, maybe you’ll get two ears of corn per stalk.

Teosinte is completely different. It’s a multi-stalk plant and it doesn’t grow ears of corn at all — it makes tiny little seed pods. At every node along the stalk, you get seed pods. There’s just a single row of very small little seeds inside, the size of baby teeth. 

There is an edible kernel buried at the center of the seed. But to get at the editable kernel, you have to remove the outer seed first. You have to expend a lot of time, a lot of labor, to get very little to eat in return. Why bother? 

Moreover, teosinte is a wild grass. When the pod is mature, it just breaks open. There’s no structure in there to hold the seeds. So they just separate and fall out on the ground. And the big question is, why the early peoples began to pay attention to teosinte as a potential food plant? And there’s no good answer to that.

Geneticists suggest that the beginning of domestication, if you will, goes back at least to 7000 BC, or 9,000 years ago. One hypothesis is that early people were not actually interested in the seeds at first, but rather than fermentable sugars in the green stalks. There were other sources here of fermentable sugars that are easier to attain, so who knows?

But the earliest clear physical evidence that we have found for domesticated corn dates to about 4000 BC, and that evidence comes from Guilá Naquitz again, where they found the early fruit squash. Archaeologists found clear evidence that corn has been domesticated by that date. What they found at Guilá Naquitz are little structures, little proto-cobs. So instead of this single row of seeds, there is a structure with several rows of kernels around it. And by this date, the terminals have lost the hard outer seed coating and become fully edible. 

Domesticated corn cannot reseed itself. In order for you to reseed it, you have to pick the ears of corn off the stalks, pull down the corn husk, pull the kernels off and replant it. Corn is the only nature of domesticated plants that is incapable of self-reproduction. And by 4000 BC, it had shifted from this self-seeding wild grass to a fruit plant totally dependent on human intervention for reproduction.

Teosinte doesn’t grow wild here in the valleys, but it grows up in the sierra, up in the mountains around the valleys, which is where corn was probably domesticated — a domestication that has been spread rapidly and extensively through the Americas. And because corn is such a malleable plant, it took on the many forms of corn that were found growing here when Europeans arrived, and then quickly introduced to the rest of the world after contact, and again adapted to wherever it was introduced. Corn, for sure domesticated here in Mexico, and very likely here in Oaxaca, is the most widely planted cereal grain today in the world. There’s more corn planted than wheat, than rice.

While the pre-Hispanic peoples of Mexico knew how delicious tomatoes were, the silly Europeans thought they were poisonous!

Tomatoes and Other Plants Domesticated in Mexico

Let me remind you of some other food plants that have changed diets worldwide. And the first that comes to mind are tomatoes. Domesticated here in Mesoamerica. Very important in the pre-Hispanic diet, and quickly introduced to Europe. And for a long time, Europeans refused to eat tomatoes. They considered them poisonous. They bred them as ornamentals; they used them as fodder for animals — but wouldn’t eat them. Imagine! 

Avocados — domesticated here. No guacamole without avocados from here. Vanilla and cacao were also domesticated here. By the end of the 1500s, just about every major food plant had gone east and west. They were very quickly introduced and adopted. 

Avocados, not surprisingly, were also domesticated in Mexico. Wally shudders to think of a life without guacamole.

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Now, that’s a lot to digest about food plants. But it’s astounding how many different domesticated food plants come from the Oaxaca region, with its great biodiversity. ¡Buen provecho!

If you’re staying in Oaxaca, be sure to add the botanical garden to your itinerary. Tours in English are Monday through Saturday at 11 a.m. They’re a steal at 100 pesos (about $5) and last about two hours. The garden entrance is at the corner of Reforma and Constitución. Get there about half an hour early to play it safe; groups are limited to 25 people and fill up quickly. –Wally

Jardín Etnobotánico de Oaxaca

Reforma Sur
Ruta Independencia
Centro
68000 Oaxaca de Juárez
Oaxaca
México

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A Tour of the Oaxaca Botanical Garden

El Jardín Etnobotánico de Oaxaca began as a monastery, then was taken over by the military. Now it’s a fascinating and gorgeous reflection of the diversity of plant life found in Oaxaca.

The Oaxaca Botanical Garden offers one tour in English a day — so be sure to get there early to make sure you get a spot!

I’m obsessed with Carol. She was our guide at the Jardín Etnobotánico de Oaxaca. She makes even the most mundane things seem fascinating. Mind you, she’s strict — you’ve gotta follow the rules or risk a scolding — but she also has a great sense of humor.

Our tour guide, Carol, was a wealth of knowledge — and humor.

I’ve transcribed Carol’s tour. Reading her words should give you a good feel for her extensive knowledge (and sense of humor). Hopefully it’ll transport you to the garden — the next best thing to taking an actual tour:

Looking around, I’m guessing most or all of you are visitors. I certainly know that the country’s cultural richness is usually a major reason for people to visit. But you may be less aware of Mexico’s botanical richness. Mexico, in fact, has some of the richest flora in the whole world. 

Mexico is also renowned for the great number of plant types to grow uniquely here. Botanists call these endemic — plants that grow only in a limited area. And Oaxaca state has more species of plants, and more endemic species of plants, than in any other part of the country. In fact, all the different kinds of vegetation that grow throughout Mexico can be found right here.

The Oaxaca Botanical Garden has only been open since 1994 and covers an area of about six acres.

But very clearly interconnected with this rich flora, Oaxaca state is also known for ethnic diversity. The state has more indigenous groups than any other part of Mexico. Given the size, the state of Oaxaca is more linguistically diverse than any other part of the Americas, and one of the most linguistically diverse in the world. 

Each of the peoples here had their own names, uses, beliefs and traditions about the plants. 

The back of Santo Domingo de Guzmán church, which once owned the land upon which the botanical garden now sits.

Dominican Monastery to Military Grounds: the Complicated History of the Jardín Etnobotánico de Oaxaca

The garden was founded in 1994. Because of the dual emphasis on the relationship of the people and plants, the formal name is the Ethnibotanical Garden. 

The garden covers an area of  just over two hectares, or approximately six acres. 

This was originally part of the Dominican monastery, and the Dominican friars began building Santo Domingo in the 1570s. They moved into the monastery in 1608 and remained there till the 1860s. 

The Dominicans used the space firstly as a construction zone, which is where they prepared all the materials to build and later maintain Santo Domingo. We know they used it subsequently for washing and bathing. There’s evidence they pastured some animals out here. We know they did pottery and metalwork in this space. We have no evidence of any food crops in the space which today serves as the garden. 

The botanical garden was once where monks bathed, and later, where cavalry soldiers performed drills.

The Dominicans were expelled in the early 1860s — at a time when, nationwide, all church properties were expropriated and nationalized. The federal government took over the whole complex and handed the entire thing to the military, and Santo Domingo served as a cavalry base until 1993.

The military used this space to exercise forces, to hold military practices, to park military vehicles. They had sports fields out here and so on. They destroyed the Dominicans structures out in the field area that were tall — anything that stuck up got lopped off.

But a number of low structures built by the Dominicans, covered over and buried during that military period, have survived till today.

The military use, however, destroyed all the vegetation from the Dominican period. We don’t have one single plant here that has survived from then.

No longer a part of Santo Domingo church, the botanical garden showcases plants from the state of Oaxaca.

The Opening of the Oaxaca Botanical Garden

The military left, as I said in 1993, and the garden was formally organized in 1994. They started to reconstruct the buildings, so from ’94 to ’98, nothing much happened vis-à-vis the garden. 

It was finally in 1998 that they began to prepare the soil, to plan out the garden and to begin planting, and the garden opened to the public in late 1999.

So it’s a very young garden, with lots of plants here that couldn’t possibly have grown here in this time period. Anything very tall, big, old has been transplanted.

A cistern under the wedding venue holds over 1 million liters of rainwater, which is used to irrigate the massive garden.

When the garden was founded, the goal was not just to make an attractive botanical garden — though they certainly wanted to do that — but to make it a Oaxacan garden.

And they have done that in several ways. One, of course, is with the collection of plants. All the plants come only from Oaxaca state. So many of these plants may grow elsewhere as well, but they are collected only from the Oaxacan community. 

Another way was in the design of the garden. The garden was designed not by landscape architects but local artists, who took as their theme a pre-Hispanic design element that’s very typical of Oaxaca. And you’ll see it most clearly at the archeological site of Mitla. Those zigzags — some are mosaic, some are actually carved in stone, but they’re zigzag designs that are referred to as grecas.

Note the zigzagging pathway — it’s a recurring motif at the botanical garden.

And that’s the thing that you see throughout the garden. Notice the beds aren’t square or rectangle. Nothing is curved. As you go through the garden, with the water channels and pathways, everything zigzags.

All of the money raised from the lavish weddings at the Oaxaca Botanical Garden go to the state.

The Question of Funding

When the garden was founded, it was a public-private partnership, two public, two private partners. It was wonderful. It lasted until the end of 2005. And at the beginning of 2006, that public-private partnership — called a fideicomiso here — dissolved. And we were, for five seconds, hopeful that we would become entirely an NGO [non-governmental organization].

But, in fact, the state took it over. So since 2006, we have been a state agency. We have no juridical independence; we don’t exist as a legal entity apart from the state. So, unfortunately, folks, you can’t donate money to us. Because everything goes through the state.

So that’s where we are. It’s totally top-down, and all the money from those weddings here goes to the state. The donations? That now goes to the state as well.

Solar power and geothermal cooling make this greenhouse an actual green building.

A Truly Green Greenhouse

As we start up into the garden, we will be passing a number of those Dominicans structures that I mentioned. Those relate us to our past. Down in the corner is the future. We always wanted a real greenhouse and we finally got one in 2007. 

It consists of two rooms: a colder room and a warmer, more humid room to show plants that will not grow well in this climate. 

Greenhouses, by their very name, should be green. But most of them are not — only the plants are green. But this one is truly green. It is totally self-sustaining. All the power to run it comes from solar panels on the roof of the buildings where you enter the garden.

 All the electrical lighting is solar-powered. The heating and the cooling? Also solar power. The cooling is geothermal cooling. And the water is all rainwater to irrigate. In fact, the entire garden is irrigated with rainwater. Santo Domingo has several acres of rooftop. And the rainwater is fed from the rooftops by waterspouts onto the terraces and runs into this giant underground cistern, where they’re putting up that structure for another fancy wedding this weekend. 

Under the floor is the cistern. It was built in 1998 to store over 1 million liters of rainwater. It is the largest rainwater cistern in the entire state of Oaxaca. And then that water can be pumped to wherever it’s needed. There are outlets periodically where you attach a hose. All the irrigation is manual, but it’s all rainwater-fed. 

You can’t go in the greenhouse, alas, but you can admire its design.

The greenhouse was designed by a Mexican architect [Francisco Gonzalez-Pulido] who received an architectural award in 2018 for best sustainable building. The greenhouse is not open to the public — you’ll have to stand outside and look. But it really represents our future, and I hope everyone’s. 

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End your tour with the money shot, as Duke and Wally did. (And consider accepting one of the hats they offer to protect you from the sun.)

Before You Go

Even if you don’t consider yourself overly interested in plants, we recommend touring the Oaxaca Botanical Garden. You can’t wander through on your own, but they give tours in English once a day, at 11 a.m. Monday through Saturday. They only let 25 people join each tour, so play it safe and get there at least 45 minutes beforehand to get on the list. The entrance is at the corner of Reforma and Constitución. Tours cost 100 pesos (a bargain at about $5), and kids 12 and under get in free. Wear sunscreen — some of the time will be spent in the sun. The walk lasts about two hours — but, if you’re lucky enough to get a fantastic guide like Carol, the time will fly by. –Wally

The Oaxaca Botanical Garden should be towards the top of your to-do list when visiting this area.

Jardín Etnobotánico de Oaxaca

Reforma Sur Norte
Ruta Independencia
Centro
68000 Oaxaca de Juárez
Oaxaca
Mexico

 

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48 Hours in Adelaide, Australia: A Local’s Travel Guide

A two-day itinerary for an amazing city that’s been overlooked in favor of Melbourne and Sydney for too long. With aboriginal art and great wine regions, it’s no wonder publications are heaping accolades on Adelaide.

It’s time visitors to Australia put Adelaide on their itinerary.

Tucked down in the middle of the south coast of Australia, Adelaide has played second (or is it third?) fiddle to Melbourne and Sydney for years. Tourists flocked to both of those cities — and while they are amazing places to visit if you’re in Australia, those who don’t visit Adelaide are certainly missing out.

In 2014, Adelaide finally started getting the recognition it deserved — it was named as one of the top cities to visit in the world by Lonely Planet. Then, in 2017, the whole state was crowned as one of the best regions to visit — again by Lonely Planet. And in 2021, Adelaide was declared Australia’s most livable city and the third most livable city in the world, according to the Economist Intelligence Unit’s Global Liveability Index. 

“In 2014, Adelaide finally started getting the recognition it deserved.

It was named as one of the top cities to visit by Lonely Planet. Then, in 2017, the state was crowned as one of the best regions to visit — again by Lonely Planet.

And in 2021, Adelaide was declared the third most livable city in the world, according to the Economist. ”

As you can imagine, these accolades have led to an influx of people from all over the world. And they have made us locals want to ensure that visitors have the best time.

If you’re thinking about spending a weekend in Adelaide, make the most of what this gorgeous part of Australia has to offer. Keep reading for an essential guide to Adelaide: what to eat, where to stay and of course, what to do. 

See what all the fuss is about. We’ll help you pack a lot into even a two-day visit to Adelaide.

Before You Go: A Bit About Adelaide 

I hope you’re prepared for a busy 48 hours — and I mean busy in a good way, because there is so much to see, do, taste and experience.

But before we dive into the itinerary, let’s talk about some facts about Adelaide.

Adelaide is the capital of South Australia, the state that’s in the middle of the bottom half of the country. The city is located right on the coast, toward the center of the state, and is actually quite small in population, with around 1.5 million people calling it home.

The city has a strong indigenous history, with the area also known as Kaurna land, named for the traditional habitants of the area. Many areas in Adelaide honor their indigenous roots, with traditional names still being used.

In terms of weather, Adelaide does have seasons. In summer it can get quite hot, but unlike other tropical areas, like Queensland, the heat isn’t sticky and uncomfortable. In winter, it can get pretty cold — so, depending on what you’re looking for in a trip, make sure you take the seasons into consideration. If you’re looking for warm, pleasant weather, February to April is a great time of year to visit.

The city itself is convenient — not overly large and divided into a grid, and because of this you’ll be able to easily navigate getting around. There is also great public transport, with trams taking you from the CBD (central business district) down to Glenelg, a popular beach suburb of Adelaide.

But where to stay? If you’re looking for fun nightlife and shopping, staying in the CBD might be a great option, with plenty of hotels and Airbnbs around. If you’re looking for something with a beach vibe, then Glenelg is the area for you. And if you’re looking to spoil yourself, try the Sequoia Lodge, a luxury accommodation in Adelaide Hills.

Pamper yourself with a stay at the Sequoia Lodge in Adelaide Hills.

So, now that you know a little bit about the city and where to stay, it’s time to get down to the nitty gritty.

Two Days in Adelaide

Day 1: Adelaide City

Like I said before, getting around the Adelaide CBD is pretty easy. The walkable CBD and convenient transport mean it’s a breeze to explore.

To get your first day started, I highly recommend that you take a walk along the River Torrens. You can enjoy the beautiful views and do a little people-watching — something I love to do in any place I visit. 

You can follow the river all the way down to East Terrace, which is where you will find a “bridge of love” — where couples have hung a padlock to celebrate their commitment. Not only is this a very romantic place to visit, it’s also where you’re going to turn off from the river and make your way toward North Terrace.

The Migration Museum is housed in what was once the Destitute Asylum, a place that offered support to immigrants.

To get to North Terrace, you can take Kintore Avenue, site of the Migration Museum. This is where you can learn about more than two centuries of migration to Australia — and it’s free to visit. Even if you only have a half hour to duck in, it’s well worth it.

The gorgeous façade of the South Australian Museum

After the Migration Museum, if you hi want to keep up with your cultural exploration of Adelaide, then on your way to North Terrace, visit the South Australian Museum, the State Library of South Australia and the Art Gallery of South Australia. At the museum, be sure to check out the Aboriginal Australian exhibition. And the library has the incredible Mortlock Wing, which wouldn’t look out of place in Harry Potter. 

Is this Hogwarts? Nope, it’s the famed Mortlock Wing of the State Library of South Australia.

The Art Gallery of South Australia

Once you’ve wrapped up at the museums and galleries, head to the Botanic Gardens of South Australia. A free guided tour is offered every day at 10:30 a.m. Here you’ll get to see a variety of  indigenous plants, shrubs and flowers. 

The majestic Palm House at the botanic gardens

By this point, you’ve probably worked up an appetite. Good news: Across the road from the botanic gardens, you’ll find plenty of restaurants, including an awesome Thai restaurant called Golden Boy. There are more restaurant options en route to Rundle Street, which is where Rundle Mall is, the famous shopping strip of Adelaide. 

On Grenfell Street, the next block over from Rundle, you’ll find the incredible Tandanya National Aboriginal Cultural Institute. You can buy gorgeous art prints and souvenirs in the gallery shop.

After the cultural center, make your way down to Central Market — it’s a bit of a walk — so you may as well take the scenic route along King William Street. That way you’ll get to see some of Adelaide’s beautiful old buildings like the General Post Office and the Town Hall.

Central Market is your next destination and is the Southern Hemisphere’s largest covered market. This is where you will find the most delicious fresh produce — and if you’re going to stop anywhere, make sure it’s the Smelly Cheese shop!

Cheeses Christ! This is Wally’s dream come true! The Smelly Cheese Company at Central Market

Now, this is where you need to decide whether you want to stay in the city for the nightlife or if you want to spend some time down at the beach. While the CBD has plenty to see and do and great restaurants to eat at, I recommend taking the tram to Glenelg to enjoy watching the day turn into night.

It takes around 30 minutes to get to Glenelg by tram, and it’s worth it — plus, you get to see some of the prettiest areas of Adelaide along the way. 

Hop on the tram — the seaside suburb of Glenelg is just half an hour away!

If it’s a warm day, you can enjoy a swim, or if you want to stay dry, why not grab a drink at the Glenelg Surf Life Saving Club and watch the sunset? Glenelg also has some great restaurants, with amazing seafood options and views of the water.

If you’re staying in the city, you can take the tram back or grab a taxi. Have a nightcap at any of the awesome bars in the city. Now, while there is always plenty on, I recommend trying to get in relatively early, because tomorrow is going to be another busy day!

The Barossa Valley is one of three wine regions outside of Adelaide.

Day 2: The Wine Regions

You cannot possibly visit this region without tasting the local wine. The Adelaide CBD is actually close to three of the best wine regions in Australia: the Barossa Valley, McLaren Vale and Adelaide Hills.

Before you get to the wine tasting, you need to line your stomach with a delicious breakfast. If you’re in the CBD, a great brunch place is Crack Kitchen. 

Once you’ve eaten, it’s time to get to tasting. It’s honestly hard to choose between all of the wine regions, though the Barossa is likely to be the one you’ve heard of — it’s where Rockford, Wolf Blass and Jacob’s Creek all come from. It’s northeast of the city.

McLaren Vale is south of the city and offers incredible views of the water, and the Adelaide Hills wine region is about 25 minutes east of the CBD.

The d’Arenberg Cube in McLaren Vale sounds like a trip. It offers a tasting room, the Alternate Realities Museum, a Salvador Dalí exhibition and other sensory delights.

Visiting the wine regions does take a bit of planning because unfortunately, there isn’t really any public transport out there. But there are many different options: day tours, hop-on-and-off bus tours or renting a car. With that last option, you do get the flexibility of being able to spend more time in certain areas — though it also means you may not get to enjoy the tastings to their full capacity. 

If I had to choose one region, I would probably go with the Adelaide Hills. Not only do you have the benefit of enjoying Adelaide’s oldest wine region and the gorgeous vineyards, but there is so much more to do as well. 

Who can resist the opportunity to see koala bears up close? Head to the Cleland Wildlife Park to spot these cuties, along with kangaroos, wallabies, dingoes and other native animals.

In the Hills, the Cleland Wildlife Park offers a chance to meet a koala up close.

A 45-minute drive away, the Big Rocking Horse — which is exactly what it sounds like — needs to be seen to be believed.

And the picturesque traditional European village of Hahndorf is home to vineyards, bakeries, galleries, boutique shops and distilleries.

The Old Mill in the traditional European village of Hahndorf

Have dinner at the award-winning Hardy’s Verandah Restaurant on the Mount Lofty Estate on the same grounds as Sequoia Lodge.

Even if you don’t stop in the Hills, it’s a beautiful place to take a scenic drive through.

As you can see, Adelaide is a stunning city that offers its visitors so much to see and do. Of course I recommend spending as long as you can, but it’s easy to get a great sampling of all it has to offer in a mere 48 hours. –Sophie Armstrong

 

Puerto Vallarta Botanic Garden: Mexico’s Eden

Our budding romance with this lush nature preserve, which gets our vote for the best thing to do in PV. 

The orange-hued Hacienda de Oro houses a restaurant and gift shop, with the Cactus House to the right.

At first, we didn’t embrace the laidback, beach-oriented vibe of Puerto Vallarta. Duke and I are used to filling our itineraries with things to do — and the most culture PV has to offer are drag shows like Mama Tits’ Confessions of a Ho! (you couldn’t make this shit up).

Needless to say, we were excited to learn about the Puerto Vallarta Botanic Garden. And, not surprisingly, our trip there was our favorite part of our vacation.

“ The most culture PV has to offer are drag shows like Mama Tits’ Confessions of a Ho!

So we were excited to learn about the Puerto Vallarta Botanic Garden. And, not surprisingly, our trip there was our favorite part of our vacation.”

We didn’t come fully prepared — no bug spray, Duke wearing sandals and me in suede Vans — but kudos to you for reading this to prepare for your visit. 

Look how happy exploring the botanic garden made Wally.

Take a Hike

If you’re into hiking, there are numerous trails through the surrounding jungle. We started along one behind the Cactus House and found ourselves down by the river. I squatted down to wet my hair and neck. I’m not sure if we would have gone swimming in the brown water even if we had swimsuits, but it might be a good idea to wear yours just in case you really need to cool off. 

The Cactus House is filled with succulents and, yes, cacti.

The fountain in front of the Hacienda de Oro features an eagle, a symbol of Mexico.

Wally cools off in the river.

A group of teens go swimming.

We continued over some slippery rocks and passed a group of local teens wading in the river before continuing along the Jaguar Trial. A sign informed us that its rating level was “difficult.”

“Would’ve been nice to have that marked on the map,” I muttered. 

But Jaguar turned out not to be too difficult; it’s just uphill for much of the time. I was kind of hoping we’d run across the eponymous feline, but no such luck. 

The adorable pink chapel on the grounds, Our Lady of the Gardens

Goin’ to the Chapel

After the hike, we wandered a few of the areas near the restaurant and gift shop, including the octagonal conservatory of native plants, before crossing the Bridge of Dreams and stumbling upon the adorable pink church, Our Lady of the Gardens.

You can’t tell from this angle, but this conservatory is octagonal-shaped.

A priest in a jaguar pelt

Masks cover the back wall.

A statue of a man holding maize, one of the most important crops to the Mesoamericans who lived here

This pyramid is a replica of the one at La Casa Azul, Frida Kahlo’s home museum in Mexico City.

“If they had planters like this at the gift shop, I would have bought some,” Duke says.

Duke on the Bridge of Dreams

El Puente de los Sueños leads to the chapel.

We couldn’t go inside the small chapel because they were putting up new wallpaper — a  bright yellow background filled with plants, birds and butterflies. It’s going to give the space a modern feel and make it oh-so-Instagrammable. 

Wally on the pink stairs in front of the chapel

The man in charge of the project came over to chat with us, giving us advice (buy some insect repellent and carry it everywhere in defense of the no-see-ums; take a day trip to San Sebastián). 

The Infant of Prague in the graveyard

The Virgin Mary watches over some tombs.

Graves, some with elaborate statuary like this small church with the Virgin Mary within, line the hills on either side of the chapel.

There are graves scattered on either side of the hill leading up to the church — with those of pets to one side. If I happen to die while I’m in the area, I couldn’t hope for a better eternal resting place. 

When the staff put out this tray of fruit, one colorful species of bird after another stopped by to dine.

Birdwatching at the Hacienda

By this time, we were hungry and in need of refreshment, so we went back to the Hacienda de Oro and had a great lunch — guacamole, grilled fish tacos, chicken quesadillas Xochimilco and two Cadillac margaritas, por su puesto. (Incidentally, the margs were quite strong and left us un poco barrato). 

You can’t take a break on the Hacienda de Oro balcony without getting a margarita. Just be careful: They’re strong!

The food was tasty — whipped up in this open-air kitchen.

A violist stood by the tables playing songs, including “Dust in the Wind.” At first I was a bit annoyed we’d be pressured into tipping him, but it ended up being nice having the strains of music waft around us, and when I looked up at him, his eyes crinkled with a grin — and I didn’t mind slipping him some pesos in appreciation.

He was a nice guy and during one of his breaks, he told us to look over the balcony, pointing down to a spot where the staff had left out tropical fruits to attract a variety of birds in a rainbow array of bright colors. 

A hummingbird at the feeder on the balcony

Next to stop by was a woodpecker.

He saw how excited we were — I could take up birdwatching if they were all this colorful and amazing — and kept pointing out new birds to us. 

After lunch we did some shopping. I can tell you that the handicrafts here are among the best you’ll find in the PV area. (The ubiquitous markets along the waterfront, which peddle tourist-oriented fare, get dismissively dubbed “mercados de basura,” or “trash markets,” by Duke.)

And the prices aren’t bad. I bought a blue wool dinosaur stuffed animal, a cloth Frida ornament and a ceramic skull rattle. 

Plants and pots for sale

A skeleton and marigold for Día de los Muertos

St. Francis holding a skull to contemplate death

We found the items on sale at the gift shop to be of high quality at a fair price.

To wrap up our visit, we went back to the main road and found the offshoot that leads to the Gazebo Bridge and then crossed the Swinging Bridge to the Vanilla Plantation. 

Duke wasn’t afraid to cross the Swinging Bridge.

Wally in the ironwork gazebo

A plant-filled fountain we passed en route to the Vanilla Plantation

Ready to call it a day, we headed back up the road to the entrance, where there’s an open-air hut. The staff there can call you a taxi with a fixed price. The Zona Románitca is just under 40 minutes north.

Lily pads and lotuses in one of the ponds in the gardens

All in all, we spent the better part of the day at the botanic garden, getting in a hike, eating a great meal, seeing exotic birds, doing some shopping and exploring the lush grounds. Tickets are well worth the 200 peso (about $9.50 when we visited) admission charge. By the way, kids under 4 get in free.

The beach has its perks. And drag shows are fun once in a while. But we wouldn’t visit PV without a trip here. It’s anything but your garden variety attraction. –Wally

 

Jardín Botánico Vallarta (Puerto Vallarta Botanical Gardens)

Carretera Puerto Vallarta
Carretera Costera a Barra de Navidad Kilómetro 24
48425 Jalisco
México

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Secret Gardens: Read More

Cuadra San Cristóbal: Barragán’s Striking Horse Ranch Home

The Mexican architect’s masterpiece of modern architecture is framed by brightly colored walls and a signature fountain.

Duke and Wally absolutely loved visiting Cuadra San Cristóbal, an amazing home and horse ranch designed by Luis Barragán.

Luis Barragán is, undeniably, one of the most influential architects of the 20th century. Revered for his mastery of color, light and shadow, which blend vernacular hacienda elements with modernist influences, the Mexican architect’s legacy continues to inspire and influence contemporary design. 

Brightly colored walls meet at right angles and form artistic vistas everywhere you look.

It had been a dream of mine to see the famous pink-hued walls of the Cuadra San Cristóbal equestrian estate. The iconic ranch has served as the backdrop for countless creative projects, including an editorial campaign featuring French model Léa Seydoux shot onsite for Louis Vuitton in 2016 (which, naturally, included a horse or two).

Louis Vuitton did a fashion shoot at Cuadra San Cristóbal, which turned out pretty freakin’ cool.

“I had seen photos — but the color, form, texture and scale cannot truly be comprehended without experiencing the design in person.”

When Wally and I had the opportunity to visit the modernist landmark on a trip to CDMX, I searched the web to plan our pilgrimage and found the Traveling Beetle, an architectural guide service that offered a half-day Barragán tour including access to this emblematic structure.

Barragán was an avid equestrian and in the 1960s, he directed his admiration for the bold and graceful four-legged creatures into the construction of the gated community of Los Clubes, a residential subdivision in Ciudad López Mateos designed to attract the equestrian elite of Mexico City. 

Wouldn’t you just love to sit and admire this view?

The private seven-and-a-half-acre estate was designed and built in collaboration with Barragán’s protégé Andrés Casillas from 1966 to 1967 as a home and horse ranch for Folke Egerström and his family. The two met while riding at the nearby Club Hípico Francés and shared a passion for the equestrian lifestyle.

The white portion is the family home, while the pink is an entrance to the gardens.

Barragán’s True Colors

Viewed from the street, the unassuming perimeter wall of Cuadra San Cristóbal presents a blank face, concealing the stables, fountain, courtyard, house and gardens beyond. Only the name spelled out in metal letters on a wall in front hints at the gentility of the property.

Duke, whose first name is actually Christopher, or Cristóbal in Spanish, points to his namesake attraction.

San Cristóbal was part of a half-day excursion with the Traveling Beetle, during which we tooled around in this tomato-red VW Bus.

The unassuming front door to the complex doesn’t offer even the slightest hint of the gorgeousness beyond.

Wally and I exited the mint-condition orange-red ’76 VW Combi Bus and followed Martín, our tour guide, passing through a wooden door that led to an open patio paved with squares of volcanic basalt stone. It was late morning and the sunlight gave the Egerström family home a soft glow. The white Cubist-looking structure stood to our left, its façade absent of ornamentation save for a slatted rectangular window. Directly ahead of us, a hedge and tree hid the courtyard beyond. The opening was framed by a white wall to one side and a rust-red wall to the other. We glimpsed a bright pink wall beyond and a cascade of water. Talk about a dramatic entrance.

Martín gestured to the opening. “The walls act like curtains to the main stage,” he said. “Barragán was a showman.”

The entrance to the home on the property, still owned by the Egerström family.

Our guide, Martín, described the walls, one white, the other brick red, as curtains of sorts, framing the spectacle to come.

We followed the sound of the gurgling water that spilled in a steady stream from a spout in a massive wall into a shallow basin. The pool reflects the sky, evoking a sense of tranquility but also serving a practical purpose as a trough to provide horses with water and to keep cool. 

The first glimpse of the courtyard at Cuadra San Cristóbal

Barragán was inspired by the Islamic gardens of the Alhambra in Spain and elements of Moorish architecture in North Africa, which focused on interior life arranged around a peaceful open courtyard garden and fountain. 

Even though the cuadra is in a neighborhood, it’s easy to forget this. Everywhere you look, you’re surrounded by greenery, and walls frame the open space, ensuring privacy. Barragán, you see, was at heart an introvert.

Barragán is known for his rectangular walls painted vibrant hues — especially this shade of magenta, which has become Mexico City’s official color.

The Wonderwalls of Cuadra San Cristóbal

As we moved closer to the courtyard, the white walls of the home receded to reveal a kinetic energy of broad intersecting horizontal and vertical planes awash in rosa mexicano (bougainvillea pink) and mauve (jacaranda purple). The palette was informed by Barragán’s lifelong friend and frequent collaborator, the painter Chucho Reyes. Colors build a strong contrast to the sand beneath our feet and the surrounding tropical flora. 

In fact, the colors were chosen to act as complementary tones to those provided by nature: The bright pink plays off the dark green of native plants; the tan wall provides a contrast with the blue sky; and the brick red wall pairs nicely with the aqua water in the pool.

A kaleidoscope of colors: brick red, magenta, aqua — and, of course, sky blue and green, provided by nature.

Right angles, pops of color, shifting shadows — these are all Barragán signatures.

Note the small gap where the two walls meet.

A sleeping schnauzer rests in the back corner of the courtyard.

The fountain at San Cristóbal is similar to another Barragán design, la Fuente de los Amantes.

I had seen photos of the very place where we were standing — but the color, form, texture and scale cannot truly be comprehended without experiencing the monumentality of the design in person. This is where I became acutely aware of Barragán’s use of scenic framing and spatial manipulation to create a dramatic sense of passage. Everywhere I looked, layers of color entered my field of vision. To me, this was truly a sacred space, where the concept of time seemed to dissolve. 

A copse of trees, including a jacaranda and an ombú, with its strange yellow fruit, act as an organic foil to the geometry of the measured lines. They stood in direct contrast to a pink wall with two vertical cutouts that suggested a citadel fortification but were, in fact, vents for hay bales. 

It’s easy to get caught up by the beauty of the space and forget that, at its heart, this is a horse ranch. But that’s exactly what it is, as you can see from the stables to the right.

Out to Pasture

We approached the stable and passed under the overhang of the boarding barn. Once home to 37 thoroughbred horses, the stalls were designed for the gentle giants to be able to see, smell and communicate with each other.  

“ Barragán was asked why he only built homes for the wealthy.

“And for horses,” he said. Then he added, “But horses are neither rich nor poor. They’re just horses.””

The clubhouse is located at the end of the stable near the fountain. Inside is a well-preserved teletype, which was used to send and receive printed messages and data via telephone cables, probably considered state-of-the-art at the time it was installed. Above eye level, a clerestory window perfectly frames a slice of the sky, illuminating the space with subtle natural light. Martín told us that Barragán didn’t include many built-in lights into his designs — instead, he relied on indirect sunlight and lamps.

After using the bathroom in the clubhouse, Wally came out with a big smile on his face. “We peed in a Barragán, bitches!” he whispered to me.

When we visited, there were only two horses kept at Cuadra San Cristóbal.

These two vertical openings are part of the dramatic wall of the courtyard. Here, at the back, you can see they have a purpose — offering ventilation for the hay.

A back entrance to the living quarters of the stables

It’s ironic that Barragán is famous for his intense color palette, when it was actually chosen by his friend, the painter Chucho Reyes.

All of the colors were chosen to match or complement that of the natural setting. The legendary pink, for instance, perfectly mirrors the blossoms of the property’s bougainvillea trees.

The purple wall is actually a gate that opens via gravity.

Duke pets Frida, one of the worker’s pet schnauzer.

A black schnauzer named Frida, owned by one of the workers, was napping in a corner of the yard and later came by to say hi to me. At the time of our visit, Cuadra San Cristóbal was home to a black cat who slinked by us as we made our way over to the pasture where a pair of horses, Little Girl and Carbonero, stood. When Wally asked about the name — Carbonero translates to Charcoal, a strange moniker for a white steed — Martín replied that it’s considered unlucky to give a white horse a name that refers to its color.

The garden is filled with cacti and palms.

Not Your Garden Variety Garden 

Many of the gardens designed by Barragán were intentionally left unmanicured in places. Martín led us to an unassuming secret garden concealed between an opening between the house and interior courtyard. Nature was incorporated throughout all of Barragán’s works, and landscapes were often designed by the architect himself. A magic tunnel of greenery hidden away in the woods behind the home led to a small wooden table. 

Barragán was a devout Fransican Catholic with deeply held spiritual beliefs. He felt that an essential part of his architecture should elevate the experience of its inhabitants, including plants, animals and humans. This private bower was a place for meditation and prayer, Martín told us. “It’s a place to have a deep conversation with the Almighty.” 

Such isolated spaces are an element in all of his works, Martín continued.

The green of the native plants offers a pleasant contrast to the hot pink walls.

Looking back toward another pasture, in a corner of which the family’s beloved donkey is buried

In another part of the back garden, a donkey that was a beloved family pet is buried among the hedges.

Martín spoke to one of the ranch hands, then beckoned for us to follow him, a twinkle in his eye. One of the owners who had been on the patio had gone back inside, so we would be allowed to see the Egerströms’ private pool area. We returned to the entrance portico, went up a few steps and made our way through a passage cast in shadow that suddenly opened to an intimate outdoor space. A pavilion overlooks a swimming pool and provides shelter from the sun. It would be a nice, quiet place to read — as attested by a recently abandoned newspaper that sat atop a table, fluttering in the breeze. 

We were fortunate enough to be able to explore the family’s private outdoor space.

How’d you like to cool off in this pool on a hot Mexico day?

The impressive swimming pool isn’t part of every tour. If the family is enjoying it, you won’t be able to see it.

Seen from any angle, Cuadra San Cristóbal is a masterpiece of harmony, scale and space. Even though it was built in the mid-’60s, its design remains modern and it certainly cemented my appreciation for Barragán. –Duke

 

Cuadra San Cristóbal

Cerrada Manantial Oriente 20
Mayorazgos de los Gigantes
52957 Ciudad López Mateos
México

Fabyan Villa Museum and Its Frank Lloyd Wright Connection

Tour the picturesque Riverbank estate, with the Fabyan Forest Preserve, a Japanese garden, a windmill, quirky curios (a suspect mummy!) — and a codebreaking legacy.

The Fabyan Villa can thank Frank Lloyd Wright for its cruciform shape. The house and its grounds are worth exploring if you want to take a day trip from Chicago.

Before my parents make their annual visit to Wally and me in Chicago, we plan an interesting day trip, do a little research and look for something quirky to do. Typically it’s somewhere a bit farther afield since neither of us has a car. I can’t recall how we settled on the Fabyan Villa in Geneva, Illinois. It’s entirely possible that I came across it on the Atlas Obscura website, given Wally’s and my proclivity for attractions that don’t always make their way into guidebooks. Or it could've had something to do with Frank Lloyd Wright, the Japanese garden or the circa-1850 Dutch-style windmill located on the grounds of the sprawling estate. 

Colonel George Fabyan

George Fabyan, Country Squire of Riverbank

In 1905, Colonel George and Nelle Fabyan purchased 10 acres of land in Geneva, including a Victorian-style farmhouse, as a country retreat from their residence in Chicago. Fabyan (pronouced like Fay-bee-yen) came from a wealthy and prominent Boston family. His father was a co-partner at Bliss, Fabyan and Company, one of the country’s largest dry goods and textile merchants, known for Ripplette, a lightweight, crinkly fabric similar to seersucker, which needed no to minimal ironing after washing. 

Fabyan inherited his father’s wealth — around $2 million dollars (equivalent to over $57 million today). He acquired an additional 300-plus acres over the next 20 years and named the estate Riverbank. 

George and Nelle indulged in a variety of unconventional interests, including cryptology, Japanese gardening and the construction of a scientific laboratory complex that let them pursue their research interests.

“Some rich men go in for art collections, gay times on the Riviera or extravagant living. But they all get satiated.

That’s why I stick to scientific experiments, spending money to discover valuable things that universities can’t afford. You can never get sick of too much knowledge.”

— Colonel George Fabyan

The Fabyan Villa Museum

A Tour of Fabyan Villa

The four of us arrived at the forest preserve, parked the car and followed the steps leading up to the house, which sits on a hillside overlooking the Fox River. We purchased tickets ($10 per person) and met a docent from the Preservation Partners of Fox Valley (PPFV) outside who told us about the historic home. In 1907, the Fabyans commissioned architect Frank Lloyd Wright to enlarge and remodel the existing farmhouse in the Prairie style. While it’s no Fallingwater or even Graycliff, it has its charms.

Additions included the two-story south wing, which added symmetry to the dwelling’s long, low cruciform shape, three projecting porches, wood-spindle screening and overhanging eaves, adding to the horizontality of the overall design. 

Our tour began in the Fabyans’ reception room, which is paneled in dark walnut and furnished with Victorian-era wood and glass display cabinets, showcasing the couple’s memorabilia, taxidermy and Asian ephemera. Among the notable acquisitions on display are a white marble statue of Diana and the Lion (Intellect Dominating Force) by American sculptor Frank Edwin Elwell, which stands in the dining room and was originally exhibited in the Palace of Fine Arts at the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition. There’s also a Japanese samurai suit and a vitrine filled with bodhisattva statuettes.

On the back porch is a display case holding a mummy. Its body is wrapped in strips of linen and clutching what uncannily resembles an infant. Turns out the mummy is actually a forgery. In 1982, an expert examined the mummy, and an X-ray revealed it to be fabricated with nails, plywood, sawdust and a single bone inside the wrappings — and that bone came from a dog. Apparently, no one’s certain of its provenance or if the original owners knew it was a fake. One theory is that it may have been featured as a sideshow oddity or was an artifact purchased by Fabyan from the Field Museum. 

The Fabyans’ mummy turned out to be a hoax.

Beyond the dining room is Nelle Fabyan’s bedroom and en suite bathroom with custom furniture designed by Wright. Nelle had a hanging bed, suspended from the ceiling like a giant swing, and it’s speculated that this was to promote air circulation and protect her from contracting tuberculosis. Many of the original furnishings were auctioned off when the estate was sold in 1939, but locals who owned pieces donated them back to the landmark, which is managed by the PPFV. 

Frank Lloyd Wright didn’t build the Fabyan Villa from scratch — but he did renovate it, infusing it with Prairie style aesthetics and symmetry.

Wright’s Prairie style aesthetic is also evident in the open floor plan and warm earth tone color palette used on the walls of the interior. 

Upstairs is the music room, where Nelle’s Victor Talking Machine aka Victrola, encased in a wood cabinet, stands sentinel. Only the wealthy could afford the innovative Victor-Victrola model, whose initial selling price was $200, expensive for the time.

Duke and Wally explore the estate.

Duke and his parents in the rose arbor (which was noticeably lacking roses at the time of our visit).

Connected to the music room is the sleeping porch, where the pet monkeys, Mike, Patsy and Molly, would stay during the winter months. The floor of the room is tinplate, with drainage incorporated for obvious reasons (monkey waste). Perhaps the simians filled the vacant role of children to the childless couple?

Furniture, art and light were an integral part of Wright’s conceptual philosophy, creating compositions that functioned as a cohesive whole. As such, he would have most likely despised the ornate Victorian bed in the second floor bedroom. Wright’s leaded glass cathedral-style windows or “light screens” as the architect called them, fill the room with light. They’re not the intricate geometric stained glass affairs he was famous for elsewhere, as, out here in the countryside, he didn’t want to obscure the beauty of the natural view. 

The house’s grounds lead down to the Fox River.

Fabyan’s Animal Kingdom 

In addition to that trio of monkeys, a menagerie of animals lived on the estate, including Cayman alligators, a pair of black bears (named Tom and Jerry after a popular Midwestern milk punch served at the holidays), cows and dogs. A bear cage remains southwest of the garden, and according to local lore, loaves of bread were baked in the basement of the windmill to feed Fabyan’s pet bears. 

Japanese gardens were a craze with the elite in the early 1900s, and the Fabyans added a lovely one to Riverbank.

Turning Japanese: The Fabyan Japanese Garden

Awaiting visitors outside and just beyond the villa are the Japanese gardens and rose arbor, which lead from the bottom of the slope at the rear of the villa down to the banks of the Fox River. After the Japanese embassy created a garden for the 1893 World’s Fair, they became a status symbol among the wealthy. 

The Fabyans’ gardens were built between 1910 and 1913 by landscape architect Issei Taro Otsuka, a Japanese immigrant gardener who later redesigned the 1893 Wooded Island in Jackson Park for the Century of Progress International Exposition, the second world’s fair hosted by Chicago.

The gardens were closed on our visit, but we were able to see the torii gate, traditionally found at the entrance of a Shinto shrine and demarcating the passage from the earthly to the sacred. The gardens looked beautiful from afar, with conifer pine trees, traditional stone lanterns and a graceful curved bridge reflected in the pond beneath it. 

Although Fabyan didn’t serve in the armed services, he was given the honorary title of colonel by Illinois Governor Richard Yates out of gratitude for his public service work after Fabyan allowed the National Guard to use the estate as a training ground — and from that time on, George was known as Colonel Fabyan. He also received Japan’s Order of the Rising Sun, a decoration of honor awarded for his invaluable participation in peace negotiations with Japanese emissaries, a few of whom stayed on the property when the Colonel and Nelle hosted them. 

Riverbank Laboratories, owned by Fabyan, conducted acoustic research and later became instrumental in codebreaking.

Codebreaking at Riverbank Laboratories: Birth of the NSA

The Fabyan estate also carried on extensive scientific research, with greenhouses where they would grow exotic plants and conduct genetic experiments. Across the street from the villa is Riverbank Laboratories. This was Fabyan’s think tank. He was interested in subjects as diverse as acoustics and, perhaps the Colonel`s most famous legacy, the cryptology laboratory.

The acoustics laboratory, which is still in operation today, was built around an ultra-quiet test chamber for the study of soundwaves and was designed by the top acoustics expert in the country, Professor Wallace Sabine of Harvard University. 

One of the Colonel’s odder obsessions was a belief that Sir Francis Bacon was the true author of some (or even all) of Shakespeare’s literary works, and that Bacon had left coded messages within the plays and sonnets. Fabyan hired Elizabeth Wells Gallup, a scholar and author of The Bi-literal Cypher of Sir Francis Bacon, to decipher a binary alphabet to reveal secret messages in the works of Shakespeare. 

Fabyan was convinced that there were clues in Shakespeare’s plays that revealed that their true author was actually Sir Francis Bacon.

Gallup’s team included Elizebeth and William Friedman, who spent years honing their cryptology skills researching the Bard’s works using Bacon’s ciphers. Though largely inconclusive, their efforts weren’t entirely in vain: The couple was instrumental in breaking codes and ciphers during World War I and World War II. Because the U.S. military didn’t yet have a dedicated department devoted to codebreaking, Fabyan’s Riverbank Laboratories ended up being the foundation for the NSA, the National Security Agency.

Fabyan was quite proud of his windmill. Make sure you cross the Fox River and check it out.

Over the River to the Windmill

In 1914, Fabyan purchased a Dutch-style windmill for $8,000 from Yorktown, Illinois, about 20 miles from its current location, and spent around $75,000 reconstructing it on the east bank of the Fox River. The windmill stands at an impressive 68 feet high and was originally built by Louis Blackhaus, a German immigrant and craftsman, between 1850 and 1860. 

But it was mainly a toy for Fabyan, who enjoyed showing it off to his Chicago friends. In 1979, the windmill was listed on the National Register of Historic Places, and the following year, it was selected to be on a U.S. postage stamp as part of a series in a booklet called Windmills USA. 

Look for the fun Egyptianate benches on the lawn.

Preserving the Legacy of the Fabyan Villa and Forest Preserve

George died in 1936 and Nelle in 1939, and because they had no offspring, the Forest Preserve District of Kane County purchased the majority of the estate and opened the residence as a museum the following year. Starting in 1995, the nonprofit PPFV was enlisted to maintain and provide tours of the historic dwelling. The house was added to the National Registerof Historic Places in 1984. 

The four of us had a wonderful time wandering the paths that cross the bucolic park-like setting of the historic estate, with plenty of photo opportunities along the way. It’s an easy drive (just over 40 minutes from Chicago) and it’s remarkable to consider the lasting scientific achievements that germinated from the Fabyans’ private research center. If you’re looking for a fun place to visit that combines architecture and nature, the Fabyan Villa is open for tours from May to October. –Duke

 

Fabyan Villa Museum & Japanese Garden

Fabyan Forest Preserve
1925 South Batavia Avenue
Geneva, Illinois, USA 

Generalife: The Gorgeous Alhambra Gardens

The lush 13th-century garden complex offers a calm oasis overlooking Granada.

The Generalife gardens were created as a peaceful refuge for the Nasrid sultans

The Alhambra is one of those once-in-a-lifetime trips. When Wally and I learned that we could easily take a train from Sevilla to Granada, home to the historic medieval Moorish fortress of the Alhambra, we didn’t hesitate to add it to our itinerary. 

Duke and Wally love a good garden

Wally and I purchased our skip-the-line tickets for a small-group guided tour months in advance for around 46€. We recommend going this route, but if you decide you don’t want a guide, general admission costs 14€. Wanting to beat the crowds as well as the midday heat, we opted for the earliest time slot, arriving around 9 a.m., shortly after the Alhambra opens.

Be sure to bring your passport as you’ll need to present it at the entrance pavilion. If you’re thinking of trying to purchase tickets the day of, it’s not worth the risk: The number of daily admissions is limited, and sold in three-hour time slots on a first-come, first-served basis, a policy enforced to help preserve the monument. 

“Courtyard terraces exude tranquility, where fragrant flowering jasmine, roses, orange trees and myrtles scent the air.

Towering cypress trees form a dense evergreen screen, lining both sides of the garden path.”

Our tour of the Alhambra complex began with an exploration of the 13th-century gardens of the Generalife. 

A historic illustration of the garden complex

Paradise on Earth

Part of the Alhambra complex, the Generalife (pronounced Hay-nay-ral-lee-fay) served as a respite from palace life for the Nasrid sultans, the last of the Muslim dynasty that ruled Granada until 1492. It’s also a beautiful oasis for modern-day visitors. The name derives from the Arabic Jannat al-Arif, which typically gets translated to Garden of the Architect, though my research suggests Garden of Knowledge might be more accurate. 

The Generalife gardens are terraced, situated on a hill above the city of Granada

Muhammad II, the second sultan of the Nasrid dynasty (who reigned from 1273-1302), commissioned the original estate as a summer palace. His successor, Muhammad III (1302-1309), enlarged and refined the gardens. 

The Generalife is set on a slope of the Cerro del Sol hillside, adjacent to but higher in elevation than the al-Sabika Hill, where the Alhambra stands. Its series of gardens were based on the Zoroastrian division of the universe into four parts, rooted in the sacred elements of earth, air, fire and water. 

Both the upper and lower gardens have been modified over the years. The present plantings were added by the architect Leopoldo Torres Balbás in 1931 and completed by Francisco Prieto-Moreno in 1951. 

Narrow reflecting pools can be found throughout the complex

Water Wonders

The soothing sound of gently gurgling water is ever present at the Generalife — its engineers developed a sophisticated irrigation and hydraulic system by building a dam and aqueduct that diverts water from the River Darro to what would otherwise be a barren hillside. 

The highlight of the Generalife is the Court of the Long Pond

This channel or canal, the Acequia Real (Royal Aqueduct), distributed water to the gardens, fountains and baths of the Generalife and the Alhambra, solidifying its identity as a palace city. Water holds many meanings in the Islamic world and was essential in maintaining agriculture and providing drinking water, and was respected as a divine gift. 

Arches of roses create picturesque frames of the city of Granada

A Relaxing Respite

Courtyard terraces exude tranquility, where fragrant flowering jasmine, roses, orange trees and myrtles scent the air. Towering cypress trees form a dense evergreen screen, lining both sides of the garden path, which are embellished with smooth pebble mosaic patterns: white stones from the Darro and black ones from the Genil River. 

The amazingly intricate stonework is just a taste of what’s to come in the rest of the Alhambra complex

Try not to get lost in the hedge maze!

Wally and I climbed a flight of steps and ascended from the lower garden terrace to the semi-enclosed Patio de la Acequia, also known as the Court of the Long Pond. Jets of water, installed in the 19th century, arch over the center of the rectangular pool. The courtyard was originally divided into four quarters like the Court of the Lions inside the Alhambra. A pair of porticoed pavilions with overlapping glazed roof tiles stand at the north and south ends. The narrow open arcade along the south side was added in 1670 after the Reconquista, when Christians defeated the Islamic rulers of the Iberian Peninsula. 

The pleasant gurgling of fountains floats through the air

A pleasure for the senses, the Generalife is a great way to start or end your exploration of the Alhambra, pause for a while and take in the atmosphere. We lingered in the gardens for about 45 minutes before marveling at the wonders of the nearby palaces. –Duke

 

The Splendors of the Tirta Gangga Water Gardens

Take a day trip from Ubud through Heaven and Hell and discover the enduring appeal of this royal Bali water park.

The last raja of Karangasem built these gorgeous gardens

Our Bali itinerary was already filled with a week’s worth of activities packed into a handful of days. Then, on a whim, Wally suggested we add Taman Tirta Gangga, the lavish mid 20th century water gardens owned by the royal family of Karangasem, located two hours east of Ubud.

We had decided the night before to eliminate a few spots from our checklist, as we both quickly came to a realization from a previous day’s excursion — getting around on the two-lane roads on Bali is not the easiest, as they weren’t built for the amount of vehicles now using them.

“If you bathe in the waters on a full moon, you will miraculously be blessed with youth and cured of illnesses.”

We had found and hired a driver that Wally liked because he was wearing a traditional sarong. Besides being affordable, our driver Made (pronounced Meh-day) cost about $50 for the day. I was resistant to visiting Tirta Gangga at first, but in the end agreed it’d be worth making a road trip.

The stepping stones in the Mahabharata Pond at Tirta Gangga get a bit crowded

The Royal Water Gardens of Tirta Gangga

Tirta Gangga, whose name translates as “Blessed Water of the Ganges,” is surrounded by emerald green rice fields and rests upon a natural spring.

The enclosed recreational gardens occupy 2.5 acres and were built in 1948 by the last raja of Karangasem. An imaginative and budding architect, he was influenced by a visit to the gardens of Versailles, France.

During construction, it was a great surprise for visitors to find the raja spending his days knee-deep in the mud, steadily working alongside local craftsmen.

In this water garden, the source of its many water features is located beneath a sacred banyan tree named Rijasa by the villagers. Like the local river Ganges, it’s considered holy.

Duke and Wally on the bridge leading to Demon Island

The waterspouts at Tirta Gangga depict various creatures

Local lore holds that if you bathe in the waters on a full moon, you will miraculously be blessed with youth and cured of illnesses.

When we arrived on a clear blue afternoon, the place was already a bit crowded. The gardens provided a glimpse into the Bali of old. The courtyards of Tirta Gangga are laid out on three levels, representing the Hindu concept of triloka, the mortal plane, the divine world and the lower realm of demons. Each level contains water features and sculptures that visitors can walk around and admire.

The first thing we saw when we entered was the monumental 11-tiered Nawa Sanga Fountain, which resembles a lotus and is Victorian in style. This fountain, together with the lower swimming pool and Mahabharata Pond, form the mortal bwah level of Tirta Gangga. The eight deity figures encircling the fountain represent the guardians of the cardinal directions and are positioned around the powerful central deity of Siwa, or Shiva, here represented as the fountain itself.

The 11 tiers of the Nawa Sanga Fountain were designed to resemble lotus flowers

We followed the footpath leading directly to the auditorium pavilion, which is perched on the higher northern level, swah, the divine world and flanked by a pair of statues, reproductions of the original benevolent beast Barong, his humanlike feet playfully poking out in front.

Barongs, their feet sticking out in a comical manner, guard the back of the gardens

Just beyond, in the garden’s northwest corner, lies a small meditation garden, with eight figures depicting samsara, the continuous cycle of life, death and rebirth, including three benevolent deities, a mortal man and mortal woman, and three horrifying demons.

Two Rangdas don’t make a right

Beware the demon queen!

One of the demons in the meditation area at the back of Tirta Gangga

Realizing we would most likely not attain enlightenment, at least not in this lifetime, we wandered over to the swimming pool. Wally was overheated and I agreed that it would be pretty special to cool off in a pool whose waters are considered sacred. After figuring out where the entrance was, we paid a small fee to take a plunge. Wally went in for a swim, while I dipped my toes in the bracing but refreshing spring water. Admittedly, I was a bit jealous that I hadn’t joined him, though I was amused by the antics of a group of college-age French boys.

Wally took a dip in the Lower Pool

A mythological creature spews water

After our swim, we visited the Mahabharata Pond. The octagonal stepping stones enabled us to walk across its surface and admire the large koi fish swimming in its crystal-clear waters. This feature is very crowded, and it’s a bit nerve-wracking letting people squeeze past you on the tiny stones as you pause for a photo. Sometimes people had to backtrack all the way to the start because they met up with someone going the opposite direction.

Duke is steppin’ out

This celestial nymph is actually Wally

There are several stone sculptures spouting water into the pond. Other sculptures depict the mythical creatures of the Indian epic from which the pool got its name. The raja’s former country house, located just beyond the Versailles Pond, has been converted into an inn.

We eventually arrived at Tirta Gangga’s largest water feature, the South Pond, which is located to the left of the gardens’ entrance and incidentally bhur, the lower realm, where monsters reside. The pond contains the provocatively named Demon Island, which can be reached via a pair of bridges featuring ornately sculpted Balinese dragons.

Dragons perch atop the arched bridge to Demon Island

Demon Island isn’t scary at all. It boasts a series of elegant quatrefoil-shaped fountains

The gardens were abandoned in 1963, when Mount Agung erupted unexpectedly after having been dormant for the past century. An ambitious restoration process began in 1979, led by the raja’s son, Anak Agung Made Djelantik, and was continued by Widoere Djelantik, the raja’s grandson, who has returned the gardens to their former glory.

Although the road trip to Tirta Gangga was a bit long, we both agreed how impressive it is and that it’s a special place worth visiting in Bali. –Duke

Tirta Gangga
Ababi
Abang
Karangasem Regency, Bali
Indonesia

Jardin Majorelle: A Moroccan Garden Oasis in Marrakech

What exactly is Majorelle Blue? What does Yves Saint Laurent have to do with the Majorelle Garden? And what’s this about a new Musée Yves Saint Laurent?

Escape the chaos of the medina for a calming visit to le Jardin Majorelle 

Marrakech, Morocco is famous for many things: thick, fortified ramparts of beaten red clay, the towering minaret of the Koutoubia Mosque and the vast open square Djemaa el-Fna with its network of narrow, winding market-filled alleys known as souks. Oh, and “Berber whiskey”: hot, sweet mint tea served in small glasses.

Duke and Vanessa in the Majorelle Gardens

On our last full day in Marrakech, Wally, Vanessa and I walked from the medina to the Nouvelle Ville — French for New City. Our plan was to visit the Jardin Majorelle and to purchase a new memory card for our digital camera. We hoped to retrieve the images from our corrupted memory card, which had stopped working when we arrived in the Sahara, further proof that jinns exist.

We found a camera store, and Wally conversed with the shopkeeper in French, who took the card and inserted it into a reader. He looked up at us, shook his head and said, "C’est grillé.”

“I think that means it’s toast,” Wally said, sadly.

Towering palms seen through an archway

We went on with our day, happy to at least have a new memory card to start taking more pictures. As the three of us made our way around the walled enclosure surrounding the Jardin Majorelle, we became a bit concerned it wouldn’t be open. Our guide from our desert trek, Barack, had told us that the most important prayers of the week are those at noon on Friday, and because of this, Muslim cities essentially close from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. We were in luck, though — the garden was open.

We entered the garden through a weathered wooden door, and although there were many people visiting that morning, I was struck by its serenity. The pebbled garden path led through a dense cluster of bamboo. Sadly, countless visitors have left their mark by carving their initials into the shafts of bamboo.

Visitors past have left their mark in the bamboo section of the garden

Wally loves the exquisite Moroccan detailing at the nearby villa 

The villa houses a gift shop and Berber museum

True Blue: The History of the Majorelle Garden

The garden’s creator was Jacques Majorelle, a French Orientalist painter, the son of furniture designer and manufacturer Louis Majorelle. On the advice of his physician, Majorelle the junior travelled to Morocco for the sake of his health, and was immediately captivated by the vibrant colors and quality of light.

He settled in Marrakech in 1917, and in 1923 purchased four acres of land bordering a palm grove outside the city’s ancient walled medina. Eventually, Majorelle purchased an adjacent plot, expanding the property to 10 acres.

In 1931, he commissioned architect Paul Sinoir to design a Cubist villa to serve as his studio. Majorelle painted the fountains, planters and atelier a specific shade of cobalt blue, now appropriately named bleu Majorelle.

This striking cobalt is known as Majorelle blue

Around his new dwelling, Majorelle, a passionate amateur botanist, cultivated the gardens, which he opened to the public in 1947 to help offset their costly maintenance. After Majorelle’s death in 1962, the gardens remained open but gradually fell into a state of disrepair, lacking the care necessary to maintain them.

The designer Yves Saint Laurent saved the garden from disrepair

Yves Saint Laurent to the Rescue

Couturier Yves Saint Laurent acquired a second guesthouse, Dar Es Saada, in Marrakech in 1973 with his then-boyfriend Pierre Bergé. Arabic for the House of Happiness in Serenity, it was located near one of their favorite places, the Jardin Majorelle. When they learned seven years later that the gardens were slated for demolition to make way for a pool and bungalows. Saint Laurent and Bergé decided to purchase the 12-acre garden and villa. The couple enlisted American landscape architect Madison Cox to meticulously restore the gardens. According to Cox, Saint Laurent had the vision to have the flowerpots scattered throughout the garden painted in lemon yellow, sky blue and the famous bleu Majorelle. Saint Laurent and Bergé kept the garden open for visitors to enjoy, just as Majorelle did. 

(Bergé and Cox married in a private civil ceremony shortly before Bergé’s death in 2017. Cox is  also the director of the Fondation Jardin Majorelle, an organization that operates under the Fondation Pierre Bergé-Yves Saint Laurent.)

YSL’s genderbending aesthetic included le smoking, a feminized take on the tux

Musée Yves Saint Laurent

Saint Laurent often designed his collections while in Marrakech, inspired by the city’s colors and shapes. So it’s fitting, pun intended, that a museum dedicated to the influential designer’s life and legacy was built next to the Jardin Majorelle.

Although it wasn’t open when we visited, the Musée Yves Saint Laurent, abbreviated as mYSLm, was spearheaded by Bergé and conceived by Studio KO architects Karl Fournier and Olivier Marty. The museum contains an extensive collection of couture garments, sketches, fashion photos and assorted objects showcasing YSL’s signature genderbending style from 1962 until his retirement in 2002.

The bamboo copse at Majorelle

Secret Garden

We passed through a pergola covered with bougainvillea and paused to look into a reflecting pool containing water lilies and a pair of turtles resting at its edge.

The garden is mostly green with periodic bursts of pink and red

Drought-tolerant cacti make up the majority of plants at the Majorelle Garden

Following the garden path, we came upon a modest memorial dedicated to Saint Laurent. When he passed away in 2008, his ashes were scattered amongst the garden he and Bergé so lovingly restored.

This decaying column serves as Saint Laurent’s memorial 

Wally and Vanessa enjoy the serenity of this oasis

Artists paint the plantlife

A peek over an artist’s shoulder

The magnificence of this garden reminded me of the exotic Generalife gardens located beside the Alhambra in Granada, Spain. The arid landscape, originally almost devoid of vegetation, like the gardens of the Alhambra, were utterly transformed by Majorelle over a span of 40 years. From what I could identify, the garden includes agave, bamboo, cacti, cypress, datura, succulents and bougainvillea.

In the Cubist villa, there’s a gift shop and a museum dedicated to artifacts from the pre-Arab inhabitants of North Africa, the Berbers. Just don’t try to sneak in, or you might get kicked out, like Wally did.

Birds chirping, bamboo rustling in the breeze, and the sound of trickling fountains truly turn the garden into a welcome oasis from the hustle and bustle of the medina. –Duke

We recommend adding le Jardin Majorelle to your Marrakech itinerary

Jardin Majorelle
Rue Yves Saint Laurent

Admission: 30 dirham, or around $3.25

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Spinach-filled phylo puffs at the neighboring Kaowa Café

Nearby

Thirsty and hungry after visiting the gardens, we dined on the terrace of Kaowa Café, a snack and juice bar situated across the way. We ate delicious puffs filled with cheese and tried some of their signature juices.