Living In a Terracotta World

At the intersection of Gaudi Boulevard and Flintstone Way

About a mile outside of Villa de Leyva is the Casa Terracota, the Terracotta House, a house (allegedly) built entirely of unreinforced ceramic terracotta.  This was my priority for my visit to Villa de Leyva.

The house is equal parts Antoni Gaudi and Fred Flintstone.

With a few Joan Miró like touches thrown in for decoration.

The house was designed and built by Colombian architect Octavio Mendoza, built from clay that had been left to bake in the sun.  Other than metal and glass ornamentation, this place is ceramic (although a few decorative touches felt to my un-expert touch like plaster of Paris, rather than ceramics).

It was only a 20-minute walk, which included these two dogs barking at everyone from their second floor vantage point:

I walked past a real estate development with lots for sale.  Just like in the USA, the grand entryway was the first thing built for this real estate development:

Lots of these grand entryways in Las Vegas are still standing with no development behind them 10 years-plus after the real estate collapse.  Let's hope this one in Colombia fairs better.

Finding the dirt road, off the main road on which the Casa Terracota may be found, was tricky.  I ran into a German woman, whose English (and Spanish) were as good as my Spanish, who apparently had been wandering up and down the main road looking for the Terracotta House.  We decided to take this dirt road:

And after a couple of minutes walking, there it was:

How did I know this was the right dirt road when I am walking around sans GPS (like the Flintstone Age!)?  It was the dirt road that I saw a few people and cars heading down.

Even the neighbors got in on the "terracotta" theme action:

 It looks beautiful baking in the sun:

Let's have a look around, shall we?

Metal animal sculptures abound:

Refreshment stand:

I'm visible over the owl's right shoulder, so, technically, this qualifies as a selfie:

I don't know if this part of the house is supposed to remind one of a giant dinosaur tail -- there are major fossil excavation sites in the area -- but this part is definitely more Fred Flintstone than Antoni Gaudi:

And as we climb toward the roof, it becomes more Gaudi, which is fitting, because Gaudi loved to weird-up his roofs:

View from the top:

Phallus-like chimney, which is fitting as, again, there are local allusions.  The "El Infiernito," or "Little Hell" site is nearby filled with giant stone phalluses carved up by those porn-loving indigenouses from a thousand years ago, the Muiscas.

I'm guessing some turista knocked the head off this one awhile back:

View of the surrounding area from the roof.  (Those are pipes, not a solar panel, by the way.)

Do you want to see the kitchen?

And over the stove hangs a metal fish:

I like that.  I like that a lot.

The terracotta house even has terracotta toys:

And let's have a look at the giant insect chandelier:

Upstairs, shall we?

Here's a terracotta bedroom.  Fortunately, that is not a terracotta mattress:

I like forsaking the terracotta for some colorful decorative ceramic tile here, in the master bath:

Overview of the living room, although I guess this is technically more of a "family room" since it's off the kitchen.

Every bedroom should have weird metal sculptures:

Again, kind of Miró in my amateur estimation.

And here's something you don't see everyday:  a metal insect chair:

And here's an antique from the Fred Flintstone Era:

A 13-inch cathode-ray tube TV set!  Baa-dmmp, baa-dmmmp.

Getting terracotta-ed out?  Let's go outside again.

The pond here doesn't look like a healthy edition to the house:

Nor does this giant insect window covering, for that matter:

And what's this body doing on the lawn?

It's art!

As is this:

El fin.