Tepoztlan: a valley, a mountain, an energy

Round the bend of a mountain-hugging stretch of the Mexico-Cuernavaca highway, and there it is: Tepozteco Mountain rising from the Tepoztlán Valley. Craggy cliffs jut from the basin like cubist monoliths. The town of Tepoztlán is tucked, still out of sight, down in the rambling foothills of the Popocatépetl volcano.

It is believed that an undercurrent of curative powers exists in Tepoztlán and this has drawn followers of New Age, holistic and esoteric philosophies to this quaint, traditional pueblo. The beauty and the mysticism that surround Tepoztlán enticed me to visit; including that first time, I've made the hour-long trip from the D.F. nine times.

Locals claim that Tepoztlán is in a sacred valley where energies converge, and that these are concentrated in the pyramid built atop Tepozteco Mountain. The hike up is difficult, but the impressive view from the peak and the strenuous journey itself are completely fulfilling.

The journey to the Tepozteco summit begins on the main street, 5 de Mayo, which is lined by brightly painted artisan shops, holistic centers, restaurants and Zen bookstores, and punctuated by bursts of color from draping bougainvilleas. Pedestrians and stray dogs weave between passing cars and beverages stands offering cold micheladas.  Aromas of incense, honey and fresh tortillas blend into a delicious combination. Hand-made itacates (blue cornmeal pancakes with your choice of topping) and quesadillas make a great pre-hike snack.

5 de Mayo leads to the "Camino del Tepozteco" at the base of the mountain. As the incline rises the people renting hammocks and selling tie-dye fall out of sight. A path of natural and built steps parallels a stream and is almost entirely shaded by arching trees and towering cliffs. I've shared the path with political pilgrims, ladies from Dallas on retreat, Nike-clad chilangos and a motley assortment of robed New Age monks. Some go slower than others, but everyone is vying for the same prize at the end.

If I weren't already winded from the climb, I would lose my breath each time I arrived at the pyramid and looked out on the vast valley accentuated by jagged peaks. Tepoztlán is at the center of it all, cradled by the surrounding mountains. Up there, gazing, resting, hours pass like minutes.

Returning to town in an exhausted euphoria, I like to visit the weekend craft market. Vendors sell sickles, poultry and legumes alongside incense, herbal remedies and tarot cards. Turn the corner and an accordion player squeezes out "Bésame Mucho" and vies for patronage with a flutist dressed as an Aztec warrior.

How does the trip end? Like any good story in Mexico – with a tequila and a cold michelada at my favorite restaurant, El Ciruelo.