Exploring a Castle, or Two

Our "Christmas Tree" Improvisation

I have to admit, my time here in Madrid has been more difficult than I expected it to be. I miss my home, my bed, my friends, my food. The holidays, naturally made that a little harder, despite the amazing kindness of a coworker and friend who invited my husband and I to a spectacularly fun and welcoming Christmas Eve feast with his family, and our incredibly generous landlords who shared with us their delicious Christmas and New Years Day Lunches. The food and the company lifted my spirits, and our family even Skyped us during the traditional Harvath present time, so we could share in their joy, say hello to everyone, and celebrate as if we were there the whole time – even if we were skipped in the present distribution rotation! And through it all, the isolation made me acutely aware of how wonderful my husband is as he tried everything imaginable to make my favorite holiday magical for us.

An array of dried fruits at
Plaza de Opera Christmas Market

Most of this all made for a good Holiday, though parts of it made me miss home more than ever. Christmas is not as enthusiastically celebrated here (they celebrate an equivalent on January 6th - Los Reyes Magos - but still, not to the extent we do), so the houses were not dressed in beautiful lights, and the closest resemblance to home-decorations were Santas dangling from ropes (or ladders, if you will) out of windows. Here, he does not magically descend down chimneys as he would in the United States, and while the Spaniards may be more practical about their storytelling, the end result is a little depressing. Madrid has developed Christmas Markets over the years that flood the many plazas with stands and people. But apart from the delicious foods, these only dampened our Christmas spirit more. While the Artisan Market in Plaza de España was worth the visit (Jonny and I even ran into each other there trying to buy Christmas presents), the stalls were sullied with mass-produced, cheap   products, and once you saw one market you saw them all.

Plaza Mayor's Historic Christmas
Market - Endless Streams
of Hoards of People.

Adding insult to injury, Madrid is hard-pressed to inspire me in general these days. I have been here so many times now, that its adventurous appeal has begun to wane on me. I needed something new to reignite my passion for travel and exploration. Escorial, while lovely in its own right, failed in this regard. I felt like I had seen it before. I wanted something different, something more inspiring.

And who would have thought such a place existed less than an hour ride away from the city center? Months of research leading up to the move, and every forum I perused discussing Madrid day-trips, failed me. For none of them pointed me to the one place that has finally gotten me excited about being here – Manzanares el Real.

To lift our jaded Christmas spirits, we had decided to find the closest castle, wherever it was, and explore what it had to offer. A search of castles close to Madrid revealed a structure commissioned in 1475. One picture, and we were on board. The internet was barren of information about what we should expect when we arrived, and it was adequate at best when it came to instructions for public transportation. This enrages me in retrospect. The ride was easy, one that fits all budgets, and above all else, leads to a magical place. In a country that depends so heavily on its tourism as a source of income, you would think they would try a little harder. But perhaps, that is part of this particular location’s appeal. The explorers find it eventually, but it is not perpetually inundated with shallow-minded, lazy, tourists, allowing it to possess that more authentic feel.

As I noted, this trip is incredibly accessible from Madrid, and well worth the nauseatingly erratic bus drive. All one has to do is take the metro to Plaza de Castellana via lines 1, 9, or 10 , and ride bus number 724, an “interubana” bus, for €4.20 one way (€8.40 round trip) down a winding and beautifully scenic road towards the gorgeous mountains. When we arrived at Plaza de Castellana, we were slightly confused as to where we needed to board the bus. Unlike the Cercanias, where signs at least vaguely pointed you to the platform you wanted to wait at, here, we were in a large, multi-level bus complex. After crossing off the possibility that it was an above-ground bus stop, we returned to the bus station and actually looked at a complicated, detailed map inside. There, we finally determined we needed to wait at platform (Dársena) 26 on “Island” (Isla) 2, on level (nivel) -3 for bus 724. While waiting, we did notice that there were two stops in Manzanares, but because no one else seemed to mention this confusion in the sparse writings we found, we decided not to worry about it. We would disembark when we saw a castle.

That plan worked perfectly. After telling our bus driver we wanted to stop at Manzanares and paying our fare, we sat back and enjoyed the view for forty minutes, letting the excitement build. Jonny would likely not use the words “enjoy” or “excitement” through a majority of this ride – he is unfortunately rather susceptible to bus-sickness, what with the high center of gravity, unforgiving stale air, and toxic bus fumes, and this is a rough route to have such issues on. Regardless, he survived, and even in his sickened state, he appreciated the amazing views as well.

As we drew closer to our destination, the mountains I spend each morning ogling at from a distance on my way to work came into view and grew larger and more impressively beautiful with each kilometer until it was impossible to see their entirety through the bus windows. I swiveled my head fiercely on each turn, hoping to permanently burn their spectacular wonder into my mind.

In Wisconsin, we have rolling hills, but we don’t have mountains. The first time I saw the Appalachian Mountains, I was equally as awestruck as I was on this tilt-a-whirl bus ride. My dad was amused by my naïve delight, saying I had not seen mountains until I saw the Rockies. And so I went and saw the Rockies, and he was correct. I do not think these Madrid mountains - the Sierra de Guadarrama - were as large, but they take the cake in their unique design. To me, these mountains looked as if they were nothing but large piles of smooth, sandy colored granite boulders that had been stacked by giants in a haphazard fashion. A few would shoot up out of the ground in a jagged fashion, but most looked as if they had been meticulously polished, threatening to roll down into the fields below before smashing into a million tiny boulders like those that had imprinted themselves on the ground below them.

Eventually the Rio Manzanares revealed itself on our left, reflecting the glare of cloudless sky on this warm January afternoon and reminding me of my favorite summer trip to the Lake with my family. It was mere moments before the castle we had come all this way to see, and the quaint little town it hid itself within, appeared before us on the right.

The bus left us at the bottom of the hill leading to the castle and the town of Manzanares el Real itself. It was mid-afternoon and in usual Spanish/European fashion, the outside plazas were filled with people chatting away as they feasted on their lunches. On the tower of the church directly in front of us, storks (at least I think they were storks) had constructed giant nests, and their clacking sound filled our ears as they soared through the air.

The birds in their giant nests, settling in for the night. 

Though small, The Castle of the Mendoza looked just as you would expect a castle to. It  had a square layout, with a tower on each corner, inside and out. We determined we would not buy the tickets to go in. We were on a budget and the reviews on Trip Advisor indicated that the remodeled interior really wasn't worth it. Perhaps we will return and see for ourselves in the future, but for now we were beyond satisfied with the free exploration to be had. For those that do wish to enter, as of now, the prices are: five euro for regular admission; three euro for ages 3-13 and over 60; free for children under 3 and people with physical disabilities. We bypassed the ticket hut and wandered up a short path of shaded stairs until we were standing face-to-face with this archaic wonder.

Speakers had been installed throughout the exterior, and they played period music, reminding me of the Renaissance Faire back home, and making me feel slightly silly. I warmed to it after a while, unable to be sour with such upbeat tunes in my ears while we admired a building erected just under 600 years ago.

The castle was constructed in 1475, at a time when less than 300 people were living in Madrid. It was commissioned by Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, the 1st Duke of the Infantado to replace the older, simpler castle his father had resided in. It was completed within four years by the 2nd Duke, with the assistance of Juan Guas, the architect for the Catholic Monarchs.

We wandered around the castle, peaking into tiny window slots in an effort to see what we could from the outside its orange, granite bricks until we discovered that we were allowed, without tickets, to pass through the grand entrance of the structure and explore its immediate interior! We savored the beautiful view of the entrance – a large brick pathway with turrets encapsulating a gigantic doorway and an extraordinary view of the charming town surrounding it – and then we continued on.

The inside walkway was interesting enough, allowing you to surround the entire building and peak through the keyhole-shaped window slots. For how difficult it was to find any information about this destination or its historical significance, we marveled at how intact it was. All but a few windows seemed perfectly preserved, so much so we questioned the whole thing’s authenticity.
















After taking our time soaking it all in, we left the castle’s interior and decided, on this very warm January day to have a picnic overlooking the river on a balcony that had been built into the ground next to the castle.

It had truly been a wonderful adventure, a much needed relaxing trip the day before Jonny began his Spring Semester of school. We packed up our picnic, gazed one last time at the castle, and decided we would take a leisurely stroll through the small, semi-touristy town before heading home. There was, after all, not much more to this beautiful place.

But then, indulging my need to read every informational sign available to me, we discovered our journey was far from over. While reading the brief description of this castle on a nearby pillar, we discovered this castle had been commissioned to replace the old castle nearby. Another castle! We wasted no more time and followed the map, giddy as could be about the two-for-one windfall that had just been bestowed upon us.

While it may have been a castle at one point, all that remains of the vaguely referenced structure is its foundation, a cemetery filled with fake flowers and dilapidated graves, and unfortunately a lot of garbage. A sign near the ruins noted there was not a lot of information on when this castle was built, who built it, or who even lived in it. The only record they had was a passing reference that was made during the construction of its replacement, Manzanares 2.0. Overlooking the disrespectful trash strewn through the turret’s foundation and in the cemetery, we were happy to be standing there in a second castle – or what remained of it – contemplating its mysteries while taking it some more wonderful views of the mountains. And still our day was far from over. The best was yet to come.

What remains of the "Old Castle"

The Cemetery adjacent to the ruins of the "Old Castle"

How could this day get any better than a castle and a half? The answer lay in the portion of the “Camino de Santiago” that passes through this area making it possible for us to enjoy the most incredible hike we have gone on to date. The sun was still shining high and bright in the sky, and we were inspired by our most recent discovery to see what we could find even further off the beaten path. We followed a road that turned into a pathway towards the foot of the most beautiful portion of the mountain where green overgrowth speckled portions of its ascent, with the surrounding boulders growing more immense at each turn.

One of my favorite discoveries on this walk was a pasture, adjacent to the mountain’s initial incline. Therein lay a massive granite boulder that looked as if it had rolled down the hill during the giant’s careless construction.On our return passage, the pasture had been filled with dozens of cows, all adorned with a bell abruptly as they kept their heads to the ground feasting on grasses to their heart’s content.

We wandered deeper and higher until at long, beautiful last, the path leveled out onto a large granite plane, making way for La Ermita de Nuestra Senora de la Pena Sacra, a small church constructed in the 16th Century.

The view here was simply amazing, putting our earlier picnicking choice to shame. As we sat, admiring the intoxicating views, we observed the occasional camino-walker stop to silently pray before the building, and the periodic local arrive to sit over the ledge and smoke a cigarette. Three dogs appeared at one point, and I watched them circle the building merrily, playing in the random rain puddles formed within divots of the granite. It was all so incredibly cathartic.



I have been fortunate to live out many unbelievable experiences. I have driven as far east and west as the United States can allow; I have relaxed on the beaches of the Bahamas, Florida, Valencia, and the Canary Islands; I have tended to baby rhinos, giraffe and koala bears; I have performed professionally on stage with tigers and magicians; I have explored several enigmatic complexes of kings and queens. Each realization has, in turn, opened my eyes to the possibility of more discoveries and adventures that lie in wait for me, hoping to become known. I have loved each one in turn, all of them showing me what it means to feel alive and proud of my accomplishments. But this unplanned discovery has been the most purifying, majestic journey of my life to date. We almost overlooked this opportunity due to the dismal advertising of its wonders. Maybe it is best to keep it away from the prying eyes of superficial tourists. But if you want to see how beautiful this region can be, how contentedly happy you can feel simply surrounding yourself in natural wonders, then go, go, go to Manzanares. You absolutely will not regret it.

It is safe to say leaving here brought with it a heavy sadness. Returning to the harsh chaos of the big city and facing the next, long day of work for myself and school for Jonny ran the risk of erasing this high we had been floating on for hours. The sun was setting, and we had no choice but to return. However as we boarded the bus for our journey back, the evening glow lit up the castle that had pulled us to this town in the first place, and I wondered what would come next to rival this joyous adventure.