The decision to go to Taxco wasn't planned, not in the way that a sensible person might plan.

It started over an evening's scotch, my friend Mark and I talking about quiet, hidden places. He had just come back from a whirlwind tour of chaotic cities, the kind where you are drowned out by noise and lights until you’re nearly lost.

I was craving something different—something slow and deliberate. Somewhere I could hear my thoughts, somewhere that still echoed with an old-world charm. Mark leaned back, a grin forming, and told me about Taxco—a town tucked into the folds of mountains, untouched, he said. A town clinging to the hillsides like it belongs to another world. And so, we set our sights on it.

Two weeks later, we were on a bus from Mexico City, winding upwards until Taxco came into view, shining under the Mexican sun like a prize hidden away for centuries.

I didn't just want to see Taxco; I wanted to feel it, live it. This was a place with a story, and I was here to find my own chapter within its ancient narrative.

The story of Taxco began to unfold almost immediately. A tale flickers in its history about conquest, discovery, and the pursuit of something precious. Long ago, the conquistador Hernán Cortés roamed these lands, searching not only for gold but for something beyond, a fabled city of Copala. But for many of us today, the “golden city” holds a different meaning. What draws us here, centuries later, is something far more elusive—a journey inward, towards connection and the quiet beauty of Taxco.

It felt as though Mark and I had traveled through time itself. Each building and street carries a memory of those who had come before—Cortés in the 16th century, Don José de la Borda in the 18th, and William Spratling in the 20th—each adding a new chapter to Taxco’s enduring tale.

Silver Veins and the Story of Taxco

Taxco is as old as its silver mines. 

It stretches back to pre-Columbian times when indigenous people mined these rich veins, offering tributes to Aztec rulers. Cortés’ arrival in 1521 transformed Taxco’s destiny, turning it into a primary silver source for Spain. When I reached the town square or Zócalo, I felt steeped in this complex history. Standing beneath the pink facade of the Santa Prisca Cathedral, I could feel the reverence for Taxco’s past in the air.

The cathedral—a gift from Don José de la Borda, a man of fortune and faith—towered above, its Baroque facade alive with detail. It was here that I began to feel the pulse of Taxco, an echo of all who had walked these streets before me, from conquistadors to modern-day explorers like Mark and myself.

I couldn’t help but imagine what it must have been like for Cortés, searching, journeying, wondering if he might have found the glint of Copala in such places.

Stepping Back in Time: The Town's Enchanting Streets

The charm of Taxco is unmistakable. The streets twist and turn, narrow and unpredictable. Mark and I wandered those cobblestone lanes, letting them lead us wherever they pleased, as though we had stepped out of time. It felt like a place that had been shaped by countless souls—miners, artisans, travelers.

We settled by a window in a quiet place near the plaza—Bálsamo Café—where we settled by a window overlooking the cathedral enjoying warm cups of locally brewed coffee. The café had a calming, almost meditative ambiance. We watched life unfold beyond the glass. The scenes were quiet, simple, and yet there was a richness to them—a mother carrying her child, a vendor arranging his silver jewelry, the ringing laughter of children playing in the plaza. This was what we had come for—to soak in these moments, to connect with something real and enduring.

A Communion with Nature

Beyond its storied streets, Taxco offers another kind of beauty—a communion with nature that feels sacred and soothing. Mark and I took a day trip to Mil Cascadas (1,000 Waterfalls), and it felt like entering a secret paradise. As we meditated by the cascading water, the noise of everyday life seemed to wash away, replaced by the gentle rush of waterfalls. Nature here wasn’t just something to see; it was something to feel—alive, vibrant, a reminder of how simple beauty can bring profound peace. I felt a strange kinship with this ancient place as if I was witnessing something private. The landscape here is sacred.

The next day, we found ourselves deep in the Grutas de Cacahuamilpa, one of the largest cave systems in the world. In the dark, cool depths of the cave, I felt small, humbled by the millennia that had gone into creating such a place.

Mark and I walked in silence, our footsteps echoing softly. It was a place of patience, a place that reminded us that some things are worth waiting for. We ended our communion with nature at Pozas Azules de Atzala—hidden pools, their waters clear as glass, tucked into the mountains. Slipping into the cool water was like being embraced by the earth itself. We floated, side by side, the sky above us, and I felt that elusive sense of peace that we had come seeking.

Connecting with Community & Artisan Encounters

Taxco is a paradise for travelers like Mark and me who appreciate slow, intentional tourism and the beauty of the handmade. Silver, the town’s lifeblood, has shaped its community for generations. We visited Casa Borda, a historic building that now serves as a cultural center, hosting exhibitions of local artisans’ work. At the Mercado de Plata, Taxco’s famous silver market, we wandered among stalls filled with silver jewelry, each piece telling a story of the hands that made it.

It was here that we met Gustavo, a silversmith whose workshop felt like a sanctuary. He offered us a chance to craft our silver rings, guiding our hands as we worked the metal. As my design took shape, I felt the connection between past and present, between artist and traveler—a humbling experience that reminded me that true wealth lies in understanding and respect for heritage.

Cultural Festivities and Traditions

During Semana Santa, or Holy Week, Taxco becomes a place of candle-lit processions and solemn devotion. Another celebration, the Jornada Alarconiana, fills the town with art, honoring playwright Juan Ruiz de Alarcón. In these moments, Taxco comes alive, a town that wears its traditions proudly.

Local Flavors of Taxco

The local cuisine of Taxco is a fusion of traditional Mexican flavors featuring fresh ingredients from the region. 

We wanted to taste the town and started experimenting at Mercado de Tetitlan. The market buzzed with life, and Mark was already ahead of me, weaving through the stalls like a man with a purpose.

We found a small comedor tucked in the corner, its tables simple, its charm unassuming. We ordered pozole—the dish everyone had mentioned. It came in a deep bowl, filled to the brim, with tender pieces of pork, topped with cabbage, radishes, oregano, and the bright green of squeezed lime. Mark took the first bite, looked at me, and just nodded. That was all it took. I dug in.

Pozole here wasn't just any dish. The word itself, pozolli, comes from the Nahuatl, meaning a stew of maíz kernels. I told Mark about its ancient origins. Some say the Aztecs used to make it with the meat of captives, a dish for the gods during festivals. He laughed at how that might be more myth than truth. Still, there was something about it—a sense of the old world, a connection to something that went beyond the bowl in front of us.

The next evening, we made our way to Casa Santa Lucia. The kind of place where you linger over a meal. We shared a few dishes, but the one that stood out was the enchiladas taxqueñas, with their rich mole and smoky flavor. Mark, ever the skeptic, said he wasn't sure anything could top the pozole from earlier, but I could see from his empty plate that he'd changed his mind.

The Places We Called Home

Our journey needed a haven where we could breathe in the essence of the town. 

Our first home, a charming bed and breakfast called Casa de las Palmas, was perched on the hillside. We arrived just as the late afternoon sun bathed the city in gold, making the red-tiled roofs glow beneath us. There was no rush here, only the soft invitation to stay, to be still. From the balcony, Taxco lay out like a canvas—a labyrinth of narrow streets, winding their way up and down.

The mornings brought with them a different rhythm. We sat by the window, watching the town wake, its buildings washed in the light of dawn.

The bell towers of Santa Prisca rose above, their shadows lengthening as the sun touched the city. It was the kind of place that doesn’t demand attention, that simply exists, inviting you to become a part of it, to find your own pulse within its steady hum.

For the rest of our stay, we moved to Hotel Posada de la Misión, an enchanting relic of another era that felt as much a part of Taxco’s history. The hotel, with its vintage charm and intricate stonework, welcomed us like old friends. Its garden bloomed like a secret kept from the world, wild but deliberate.

Each evening, we found ourselves on the terrace, looking out over Taxco’s hills. The bells from Santa Prisca echoed softly in the distance, mingling with the scents of the garden—a place of solitude and reflection, a reminder that even as travelers, we could find moments of home here.

Reflections from the Road

As we prepared to leave Taxco, I looked back on a town that had offered us far more than just sights.

Taxco had given us a story—one of history, of nature, of craft, and of connection. The beauty of its narrow streets, the ancient bell towers that marked the passage of time, and the community that called it home would stay with me long after we left.

Perhaps, like Cortés, we’re all searching for something meaningful—whether that be treasure, connection, or peace. But I’ve come to believe that, in the end, the search is not about finding what we expect. It’s about finding what we didn’t know we needed—the kind of peace that comes from truly experiencing a place, from letting it become part of you. Taxco, with its winding streets, its silver mines, and its golden sunset, had given us that. And perhaps, in some way, it had found something in us, too.

It may not be the mythical city of Copala that Cortés once sought, but it is a golden city in its own right. The treasure of Taxco lies in its spirit—the hands that shape, the lives that remember, and the travelers who, like Mark and me, carry a piece of it with them when they leave.

Ben’s Cheatsheet For Taxco