Mexico: Oaxaca – Hierve el Agua

A visit to the petrified waterfalls and pools of Hierve el Agua

The day began under a still-dark sky, with the prospect of a full-day tour beckoning—a whistle-stop itinerary that promised to showcase some of the key highlights surrounding Oaxaca. These kinds of “greatest hits” excursions are often brisk in pace but efficient in scope, and I was eager to see what lay beyond the city limits. With an 8:00 am rendezvous set in the historical centre, I set off from my apartment early, following a now-familiar 3.5-kilometre route through quiet streets as the city slowly began to stir.

The meeting point was near a local sports complex, though I arrived slightly ahead of time. The man with the attendance sheet had not yet arrived, so I wandered into the courtyard of the tour company’s headquarters. Tours by Locals operated out of a particularly attractive colonial building, where the interior courtyard doubled as a small café. I had already had a coffee earlier at the apartment, but it had been more functional than enjoyable. The temptation of something freshly brewed in a peaceful setting was too hard to resist. I ordered a cup and sat quietly, enjoying the quiet pause before the day’s journey began.

This was a group tour, and our mode of transport would be a compact minibus. Our guide for the day was Rosario, who immediately made a strong impression. She was engaging, knowledgeable, and fluent in both Spanish and English, seamlessly alternating between the two as she welcomed everyone. Most of the other travellers spoke Spanish, though many were international visitors rather than locals. Rosario outlined our itinerary but made clear we had some flexibility. She and the driver suggested we reverse the usual route and begin at the furthest point, Hierve el Agua, in order to avoid the weekend crowds that tend to gather there by late morning. It was a sensible adjustment.

As we left Oaxaca and headed into the hills, Rosario requested a short detour to a local bakery in a nearby village. This particular panadería was something of a regional institution, and, being a Sunday morning, it was buzzing with customers stocking up on bread. We were led into a back room where rows upon rows of loaves lined wooden shelves. Mexican bread has never quite won me over—it tends to be sweeter and less textured than I’d prefer—but I’ve still managed to consume a surprising amount of it during my stay. A young woman from the bakery joined us and, with Rosario translating, described the variety of breads they produce and the traditions associated with them. We were given a few samples to taste. Tempting as it was to buy something fresh from the source, I was still full from breakfast, and the long queue made the decision easier. Soon we were back on the road and climbing into the Sierra Madre.

Hierve el Agua lies roughly 70 kilometres from Oaxaca, though the twisting roads through the mountains made the journey feel longer. As we rose in elevation, the landscape changed. The air became cooler, the vegetation sparser, and the views more expansive—rugged ridges and dry valleys stretching off into the distance. When we finally arrived, the surroundings felt remote and almost otherworldly. The site is run by a cooperative of local Zapotec villagers, who have developed the facilities while ensuring that the revenue benefits the community.

Despite its name, Hierve el Agua—which translates to “the water boils”—is not a hot spring. Instead, the name refers to the bubbling of cold mineral-rich water that rises from underground springs. Over millennia, this water has deposited calcium carbonate and other minerals along the cliffs, forming two vast petrified waterfalls. Cascada Grande, the larger of the two, spills dramatically down a sheer 90-metre cliff, while Cascada Chica is smaller and more subdued. The resemblance to a frozen cascade is uncanny, and the effect is made even more surreal by the presence of man-made pools at the top, brimming with sky-coloured water and framed by panoramic views of the valley below.

We were given around 90 minutes to explore independently. I had no interest in swimming and so opted to take the trail leading down to the base of the formations. The walk was about 3.5 kilometres in length and descended gradually across dry, rocky terrain. In places, stone steps had been added to assist with the steeper sections. Reaching the valley floor, I was rewarded with a spectacular view of Cascada Grande. The mineral streaks on the cliff face caught the morning light beautifully, and I spent a good while adjusting my angle and framing to take a set of photographs from various perspectives.