Tovrea at Carraro Heights
From a distance, Tovrea Castle looked like a layered wedding cake rising out of the desert—white stucco, curved edges, and saguaros standing sentinel all around. It was odd, striking, and oddly peaceful. Not regal. Not spooky. Just curious, like it was asking a question you weren’t sure how to answer.
Built in the 1930s by Italian immigrant Alessio Carraro, the castle was meant to be a hotel but never quite got there. Instead, it became a landmark—part desert oddity, part historical artifact. The only way to visit is through a guided tour, and when I stepped inside, the scent of sun-warmed stone and old wood hit me first. The rooms were simple but full of texture, and the stories flowed with every turn.
I brought a picnic lunch to eat nearby afterward—fig and goat cheese sandwich on crusty bread, picked up from a market in downtown Phoenix. The bread was chewy, the goat cheese tangy, and the figs just sweet enough to balance it all. I sat under the shade of a mesquite tree, castle behind me, and thought, “This might be the strangest castle I’ve ever loved.”
Tovrea Castle At a Glance
- Drive time from downtown Phoenix: 15 minutes
- Address: 5025 E Van Buren St, Phoenix, AZ
- Best Time to Visit: Fall through spring (tours often sell out)
- Vibe: Surreal, spiny, unforgettable
- Highlights: Guided tours, desert gardens, layered architecture
- Facilities: Visitor center, restrooms, gift shop
- Cost: $22 for guided tour (advance tickets required)
- Hours: Tours on select dates only; check online
- Food Nearby: Luci’s Marketplace or Pane Bianco for upscale takeout
Final Thoughts: Castles That Don’t Fit the Mold
In Arizona, castles don’t sit on mountaintops with flags waving in the wind. They rise from cliffs, hide behind iron gates, or shimmer quietly in the middle of a cactus garden. Each one felt like a question more than an answer—why here? why this?—and I loved that none of them offered anything obvious.
I found stillness at Montezuma Castle, whimsy at The Ashley Castle, and something oddly tender at Tovrea, standing proud and slightly strange in the desert light. None of them tried to be something they weren’t. They just were. That was enough.
There’s something freeing about seeing a castle in a place that doesn’t ask for one. It makes you notice the sky a little more, the quiet a little longer, and the sandwich you packed taste exactly right. Arizona doesn’t build fairytales. It lets you wander into your own.