Ávila - the Town of Stones and Saints

Ávila is a place that fools overlook, and to their utter misfortune, when they seek out an authentic Spanish adventure. Indeed, like Seville is with Andalucia, if you want to feel the true emotion of Castile and León, Ávila should top your lists. Sure, Segovia has impressive ancient plumbing and magical castles and Salamanca has a historic university - and no one will argue that these stops should, and likely will, rank highly on your destination itinerary. But obvious, awe-inspiring entertainment aside, you are missing out. You omit the spirit and true energy of the people of the region. You miss what they hold dear in their hearts and culture. And you will pass up an incredible, 12th Century, near to fully intact medieval wall encasing the city. 

Verraco de piedra, a granite sculpture of a boar from the 5th Century B.C.,
its features worn away by weather and the passage of thousands of years

Ávila is a small Spanish town located in Castile and León, as the capital of the Province of Ávila. It is celebrated as holding the highest number of Romanesque and Gothic churches per capita in Spain, and indeed, it holds one of the first Gothic Churches built in Europe. It was inhabited in the 5th Century BC by Vettones – migrant cattle-herders whose “verracos de piedra” still remain intersperse throughout the region. It was conquered by the ancient Romans for a time, when it likely developed its permanence and Roman shape (square with two main roads intersecting through the middle). Following the fall of the Western Roman Empire, the Visigoths developed a stronghold in the region until repeated attacks from the north by Christian Kingdoms reduced it to a no-man’s land. When Raymond of Burgundy reconquered the area in 1088, he is credited with initiating the construction of the magnificent walls that still stand today. Enclosed within a nearly complete medieval town wall, this 16th Century-esque town was declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1985. Today, the town has come to enthusiastically embrace St. Teresa of Ávila as its patron saint. Teresa of Ávila was a key player in the Counter-Reformation of Spain in the 16th Century, a Spanish mystic and Carmelite Nun. She reformed the order of Carmelite Nuns to regain the contemplative meditation practices it had lost in recent years, and she herself engaged in strict seclusion where she wrote several books prominent in Spanish Renaissance literature. Forty years following her death, she was canonized as a Saint, and she is the patron saint of headaches and ailments. 

I came to Ávila for a very brief visit on a school trip passing through on our way to Salamanca. At the time, it seemed there was not a whole lot to offer a tourist passing through, other than an endless litany of churches and a chunk of wall to climb. Online blogs and TripAdvisor forums on the matter indicated the same sentiment - three hours was the most anyone should ever really need in this tiny town. Anything beyond that, and you risk utter boredom. We, having nothing better to do on the Saturday before Holy Week (Semana Santa) began, decided to make the most we could of this “simple city,” come what may. And with Jonny there, we were always risking an encounter with some worn grassy spot he alleges is a path that would ultimately lead to a mountaintop view three hours later. It turned out that we had no need for spontaneous side adventures. What we expected to be a leisurely 8-hour stroll through a quiet town turned into a lively, jam-packed adventure that left our legs and feet crying for mercy, and our hearts flooded with contentment. 

Our beautiful 19°C day began with a two-hour train ride (sorry no bullet trains to Ávila), twisting and turning through, under and around mountainsides. While most travelers were lulled to sleep by the quiet hums of the train, we set our swivel heads in motion, taking in the boulder-sprinkled fields of cows, the spontaneous swaths of abandoned stone fencing descending with the passage of time, and the jagged mountain peaks reflecting the glare of the sun off of their untouched, now receding, snow-caps. Eventually, we emerged from the sea of mountains, arriving in Ávila . It is approximately a 10-minute walk from the train station to the walled section of the city. However our first destination was el Monasterio de Santo Tomás - a 16-minute walk from the station, located outside of the walls.

EL MONASTARIO DE SANTO TOMÁS

The Monastery was constructed in 1482, built for the Dominican Order, and sponsored by Ferdinand and Isabella (los Reyes Católicos) and the inquisitor Fray Tomás de Torquemada.

The Dominican Order was established in Spain and spread through Europe with an effort to return to religious foundations, leaving the secluded life behind and involving themselves in the community to spread education. They are more-so famed with their overzealous dedication to the faith that led to their key involvement in the Spanish Inquisition, a time where conservative estimates of 130,000 Jewish persons were killed for their beliefs (not counting those estimated to have perished in their dispersal from the country). Some contend the number reaches 800,000 in reality. Fray Tomás de Torquemada, had been Queen Isabella I’s confessor, and he was a strong influence on her decision to marry King Ferdinand II of Aragon, uniting the kingdoms into one country of Spain in 1469. A Spanish Dominican Friar, Torquemada was the first Grand Inquisitor of Spain’s 15th Century attempt, through the Alhambra Decree, to force Christianity upon its Jewish and Muslim inhabitants, and out any pretenders (called Marranos).  Through his role as Grand Inquisitor Torquemada led something of a witch hunt for those who allegedly converted to Christianity but retained Jewish practices (no one would have to ponder for long why pork is such a prominent dish here). Arguably he restrained the actual punishments of the inquisition to a degree, often making the offenders wear pointed hats pictorially displaying their sins to the public. Still, many died under his watch. He died in 1494 and was laid to rest in the monastery. In 1832, two years before the Alhambra Decree was disbanded, his bones were stolen and ritually incarcerated as an ironic display of auto-da-fé (the term used for burning one at the stake).

Los Reyes Católicos are arguably the most well-known royal figures of Spanish history. Spain had been under the rule of the Moors (Muslims) for several centuries before Catholic kingdoms gained a stronghold of the regions. King Ferdinand II and Queen Isabella I’s marriage, as well as the victory in Granada, the final standoff for the Muslim population, sealed the deal for Spain’s successful conversion back to Catholicism. Los Reyes Católicos had only one son between them that survived into adulthood, and hardly for that matter. At age 19, only six months after the marriage to his much beloved Margaret of Austria, Prince Juan died in his father’s arms of unknown causes. Most believe it was tuberculosis, but many rumors about his sexual overexertion also spread. Los Reyes Católicos designated the Monastery of St. Thomas to be their son’s final resting place, and his tomb now sits prominently at the head of the Church, a glowing white, alabaster piece of art as big as a queen-size bed.

Admission to the building came to €4.00 each (no student discounts here) and it included in the cost an audio guide. These are somewhat necessary for your self-guided tour, if you are like us and know nothing about this place. Buying our tickets gave us a glimpse of what we would see and feel throughout the day - people here are very friendly. With a town as small and conservative as Ávila, it seems it could go one of two ways, in the extreme. People could tend to be cold, distant, and unwelcoming, or they can be open, conversant, and friendly. Luckily, Ávila is the latter. People great you with a smile, and they make small talk as they perform their tasks. The visit consisted of a tour through three cloisters, a church and its choir, and two small museums - one on natural science, and the other on Oriental Art.

The Novice Cloister (El Claustro del Noviciado)

The first section you are led to is the “Novice Cloister ” the smallest of the three, and the simplest, with plain grey columns and basic roman arches lining its internal courtyard. Unique to cloisters in general, this Novice Cloister’s courtyard was composed of stone slabs, now overgrown with spongy moss, and an off-center well.

We proceeded through a small, rounded, passageway of red brick, with nothing but a light to guide guests, and into the second cloister: The Cloister of Silence.

The Cloister of Silence (El Claustro del Silencio)

While called the Cloister of Silence pursuant to the  practice of the Monks to walk in silence throughout its halls and courtyard, I would imagine it is hard to speak the first time seeing this place anyways. It is, by far, the most decorated Cloister of the three, with well-selected hues and unique displays throughout. The ceiling in its golden stones and complicated archways that came to a point with what looked like a pine cone, were my favorite part. What was interesting was the lack of uniformity of it all. Each pillar consisted of a different abstract design. 

This arch design was our favorite, what with the demonic looking clown
El Claustro del Silencio

The courtyard with its lush green grasses were a beautiful sight to peak into, but nothing too special. As customary, it had a well, and the decoration from the outside looking in gave you another perspective into the care that went into constructing this place of quiet contemplation.

We were allowed to view the courtyard from a different perspective - the upper level of the cloister - where we could view more closely the ornate carvings in the arched window-ways overlooking the yard below. In the white stone, Pomegranates (“Granadas”) lined each arch, tangled in their carved vines - representing what was at the time the last stand of the Moors in Spain: Granada. the columns supporting each arch held three-dimensional dots lining its corners. Below these windows, Spanish coats of arms were carved into the same white stone. 

Finally, in the upper level, brilliantly sharp paintings lined the walls. I assume this was temporary, as they were held by flimsy easels. The hall was otherwise bare. 

Next we were led to the church choir, on a balcony overlooking the church. A mass was going on at the time, which made be a little uncomfortable to enter. I felt silly in my yoga pants with my camera in hand while the people down below us were taking communion. But we were encouraged to enter, and so we did - and I tried to tiptoe through it all. It was similar to most choirs I had seen in the Gothic Churches, with the dual-level seats lining three of the walls and a podium at the center of it all. The chairs were made of walnut wood with Gothic style carvings throughout - each chair displaying different monsters. The view of the church below was wonderful. The original altarpiece, on a higher level than the rest of the church displayed paintings encased in gilding. It was decided after its construction, to not be used because they would not have room for the staircase ascending from the main hall of the church. Where they planned to put what I could only imagine would have been an elegant and elaborate stone staircase bathed in matching gilded decór now instead held the tomb of Prince Juan II - glowing like the snow-capped mountains. 

View of the Church - and Prince Juan I's tomb - from the choir balcony

Each wooden seat in the choir carried a different engraving,
many with animals, several with demonic looking beings,
and all with a Celtic-like pattern throughout. 

After touring the church itself, lined with seven side-chapels to peer into, we headed towards the final cloister - the Cloister of Los Reyes Católicos. It was the largest, but it was quite basic in design. No carvings in the walls, no paintings in the hallways. The Courtyard of this cloister is what really carried the day. The courtyard was ethereal, with deep green grasses and an intersection two walk to the middle where the well is placed. Daisies and dandelions sprinkled the ground here and there, and with the sun warming our chilled skin (it is very cold in the cloisters), we were induced into a moment of quiet contemplation. We lingered here only a brief moment as time was running out and we did not want to miss whatever the museums might have to offer.

Courtyard of Claustro de los Reyes Catolicos

The museum of natural science was, in a word, creepy. Filled with nothing but a large array of dead animals categorized in glass cases throughout two rooms, it would be more aptly called the taxidermy museum. But even then, it would have been a disgusting display when it came to some if its more “ferocious” animals. For example, a male line stood in the center of the room, its eyes bulging manically, and its feet positioned as if he were standing on his toes. If you are going to exploit the beauty of these creatures, at least try to be accurate - stuffed animals surely would have been. We were alone, and animals were snarling at us as we passed them, so we moved on to the final museum.

Lion in the Natural Science Museum of the Monastery 

The Museum of Oriental Art was more aligned with its name. The Dominican Order had collected a substantial collection of statues, paintings, porcelain and other artworks typical of ancient Asian cultures. They were all finely decorated and full of warming colors. The only elements that brought pause for me was the large display of ivory carvings - out of elephant tusks. I know these are all older items, and that at the time they were acquired, there was not enough information out there. But the continued sale of these ivory carvings and figurines absolutely disgusts me. Our elephant population is declining at a rapid pace for our selfish desires. Ok, I am off of my soapbox now. 

In all reality, we spent too much time in the monastery, but it was different from the other places we had been to so far, and a nice substitute to yet another Cathedral. However, in retrospect, I would have shortened our two-hour visit to about one hour, and I would have used the time left to visit one of the oldest Gothic Cathedrals in Europe – that of Ávila. We were ready for lunch when we finished touring the monastery, and excited for the new foods unique to this area. And so, grumbling bellies in tow, we headed up a very steep hill towards the wall of Ávila.

When I came here the first time, it was a cold, cloudy, and desolate weekend day. Even in the main parts of town, there were never more than a handful of people, counting the tourists. This time, coming back up the hill, I noticed a distinct change in the atmosphere: there were endless streams of people descending from the city center…and most of them with CAKE! We stopped using the map, and enthusiastically headed in the direction of wherever these delicious-looking desserts were coming from. This led us right to the plaza in front of the fortressed part of town, and into an enormous, buzzing crowd. As we made our way through the people, we found a long line of people receiving these little treats. I thought to myself, what magical world had we encountered, where cakes were just handed out to the town in the plaza, and how do we convince St. Louis to do this every Saturday? It turns out this was all in anticipation of the Easter processions that were scheduled to occur that evening – not just some regular hidden practice of Spanish small town life. The line was long, and we were hungry, so we moved on and promised ourselves a true Ávilan treat for the evening.

For lunch, we chose a random place (Yakarta) that offered a menú with the famous Ávilan dishes – Chuleton (steak) and Judios Blancos (a white bean soup with chorizo, pimentón (paprika) – and apparently ear). My adventurous side was not up for the bean dish, which Jonny eagerly chose as his starter. We both had the Chuleton as our main course – and probably could have shared one between the two of us. It was an enormous, thick slice, seared, rare steak that might have benefited from more tenderizing, but was so delicious nonetheless. I have forgotten in my five-month stay just how much I enjoy steak. Ávila did not disappoint.

Bellies full, we downed our coffees and it was off to feel better about ourselves through a hike on the walls of Ávila. The walls are said to have been built between the 11th and 14th Century, beginning around 1090. However, there is great debate and much mystery as to the details beyond this. It is apparent that they took a great deal of time, and that several different hands were involved: throughout different styles reveal themselves, from a chaotic jumble of tan stones encased in mortar, to thick slabs of granite, to evenly laid red bricks. The majority of the structure is, however, the first. There are 88 semi-circular towers stretching its parameter of nearly 2,516 meters, many of which you can climb into for some incredible views. I strongly recommend the entire route, and a good pair of hiking shoes.

Initially, we found ourselves in a bit of a panic. We felt like we were running out of time to see the whole of the wall, and we could not find the way in. I look before we travel every time, but my preparation is never enough for the reality we face. Above our heads, we could see people traveling across the wall. But for us, there seemed to be no way to get there. While I continue to reiterate that the people here, in their small town nostalgia, are friendly and willing to help, none of the people we stopped seemed to know where it was either. I could not believe it. Finally, an old man stopped and told us in a thick accent the general direction. After circling an entire block, clearly misunderstanding the finer details of what he said, I asked inside some random convent where they sell tickets. And at last we were on our way in the right direction. For those of you smart enough to travel to Ávila, for your information, the entrance to the upper level of the walls are just to your left as you enter the main entrance of the walled portion of city - about 100 feet where we gorged ourselves on steak. We bought our tickets (student discount under 26 years old!) and began to climb. 

The stairs up to the first section of wall are absolutely terrifying. Flat stones, polished and rounded out by the weather are you only means of making it up the wall, and every step increased my fear of tumbling backwards, or at the very least, smashing my shin to pieces as a slipped. I am a klutz, so to add such expert-level stair climbing to my agenda is not much appreciated. Going down is even scarier. But oh, it is worth it. We made it to the top, and found the timing was perfect. just as we peaked out through the tower walls, the procession into the city (preparing for the real procession) was passing us on the street below!

We climbed up to the top of nearly every tower available to us, soaking up the heat of the sun and watching the birds soar at eye level. We loved looking across to the towers on our left and right.

By the time we made it all of the way to the opposite end of the city, the sun was starting to set. We watched our shadows dance along the buildings next to us, took in the glow that was beginning to emanate from the walls, and had our final looks at this wonderful structure we were standing on. 

We wanted one last look at the walls, and we found a highly recommended viewpoint some distance from it all: los cuatro postes (the four posts). Outside of the city, across a river and into a more forgotten area, stands a square platform with pillars on each corner, and a cross in the middle. From there, you get a solid look at the majority of the walls. 

Unfortunately, tourist buses know where this place is now, and it quickly went from five people to forty people who seemed as though they would be there for a while, taking selfies with their selfy sticks. No matter, we appreciated the up-close views better anyways. We crossed back over the river and began to walk along the wall itself, pausing here and there to watch the golden sunlight explode against the the wall. 

We made it to a corner and entered back into the city - and found ourselves blocked in by an Easter procession. Jesus, being crucified, was displayed surrounded by purple candle on a float that needed 20 people to hold it up. The participants here wore purple masks, but behind them a flood of white cloaks and “capricotes” overwhelmed every emotion. I could not settle on an emotion as the mass of anonymous  people swayed to the rhythm of the drums and a clamor of bells from the towers filled the air. It was terrifying, exciting, mystifying, intimidating, and it all made me feel a little funny. We stopped to watch for a few short moments. But our time here was rapidly coming to a close, and we needed the dessert we promised ourselves - Yemas!

Yemas are the treat typical of Ávila. Like the marzipan in Toledo, the nuns make these morsels in the convents. Essentially, it is egg yolk, and sugar (some soak them in rum). I can’t say they are the best thing you will ever try, but you cannot go wrong with sugar saturated fat. We bought ourselves a box and savored a few of them as we sat and watched the sun fall majestically behind the mountains. 

Aqueducts and Alcazars: Segovia

I vividly remember learning about aqueducts in my grade school history classes with Mr. Loehr and wondering, “why on Earth are we talking about this?!” Running water seemed to be a nice addition to what I had naively imagined to be primitive living, an advantage I have taken for  granted, having always had it myself. While I thought it was nice for the Romans to have water and all, I did not understand why we were going on and on about some gutters in the ground. Fortunately, I have wisened up in my older years, and I am jumping on the bandwagon - aqueducts are not only ingenious architectural creations, they are monstrous works of skillful art and something everyone must see and experience for themselves. 

Segovia, Spain is one of the best - and for that reason one of the most popular - day-trip options from Madrid. Beyond its over 2000 year-old aqueduct, it has a fairy tale-esque castle you can storm (by climbing 152 steps), famed roast suckling pig to devour at every restaurant, and, of course, a beautiful Gothic cathedral. You can engage in each of these delights in one full day, and from Madrid, the trip is a 28 minute bullet train ride (and a 15 minute bus ride).

Segovia (Victorious City) originated as a Celtic landholding, with control then passing to the Romans to be used as a Latin convent. It was then abandoned centuries later, following the Islamic invasion of Spain. Around 1080 the city was resettled with Christians from north of the Iberian Peninsula and beyond the Pyrenees. In the Middle Ages, given the city’s key position on trading routes, its industry of wool and textiles exploded and continued throughout the 16th century. Jewish populations began to settle in the region, and its collective population rose to 27,000 in 1594. However, this prosperity was short-lived: one century later the population fell to 8,000. Attempts to revitalize the textile industry in the 18th century were unsuccessful. In 1764 Spain’s first military academy, the Royal School of Artillery, was opened, and in 1808 the town’s forces were put to the test as French troops sacked the city during the War of Independence. Less than 30 years later, it was unsuccessfully attacked by Don Carlos in the First Carlist War – a Civil War over succession to the throne in Spain. Segovia finally saw its population recover in the 19th and 20th century, having achieved relative economic stability.

Segovia finally reaped the benefits of its historical foundations when, in 1984 both the city itself and the aqueduct specifically were declared World Heritage Sites by UNESCO. With its narrow cobble-stoned streets, Jewish architecture, and astounding landmarks, the humble city is truly a walk back in time.

Often, when arriving in different towns, I have found there is always one more step I need to take to get where I really want to go. To get to Paris and Rome we needed to take an hour-long taxi. In the Canary Islands, we ended up needing two busses, a long walk, and a Ferry Ride. Our honeymoon in Malaga was a nightmare of trains, buses, and taxis. While it takes a train and a bus to get to Segovia, it was all very easy, very cheap, very fast, and it all allowed for a few beautiful views of the surrounding area. After arriving in nowhere-Segovia’s train station, we disembarked, stepped outside and found two buses waiting to take us to our destination. You step off the bus, look to your right, and feel faint at the monstrosity before you.

The Aqueduct of Segovia is shrouded in mystery and wonderment as to when exactly it was built and how it has managed to stay so well preserved throughout Spain’s history. The Aqueduct used to have an inscription of its date - but that has long-since vanished. Most assume it was built in the 1st Century.

The fascination surrounding this creation does not stop upon first witnessing its grandiose size. It only grows when you realize this is an ingenious work of architecture. This behemoth has managed to withstand centuries of mother nature, human recklessness and general aging - with no mortar. The stones in the Segovia Aqueduct are holding themselves up.

We explored the sight briefly that morning before heading off to our next destination, and we returned in the evening to have a drink and continue to marvel at it all, holding my breath and pondering what a terrible catastrophe it would be for this seemingly fragile world-wonder to collapse before us.

Our next visit was a brief tour of the Cathedral of Segovia. The Cathedral is located in Plaza Mayor, dedicated to Virgin Mary. It was one of the last Gothic Cathedrals constructed in Spain and Europe as a whole, between 1525 and 1577.  A former Cathedral had been built adjacent to the Alcázar, but it was destroyed in a siege while attempting to protect the Alcázar. To avoid future chances of similar destruction, the Cathedral is now a good distance away from the palace.

A view of the Cathedral from the Alcazar Tower. 

I’ve seen dozens of Cathedrals - most of them Gothic - at this point, and they all have started to run together, with their gilded altars, arched ceilings, multiple chapels, and stained glass. However, each one has evoked a unique character that seem to make them all worth the visit. Entrance to the Cathedral in Segovia was €3.00 each, and sadly, no photos whatsoever were allowed once inside. And so, as with Escorial, I put my phone away and focused on taking it all in. Noticeably, while this Cathedral has been dedicated to the Virgin Mary, its chapels seemed to indicate otherwise; almost all of them focused their art on the story of the crucifixion. It was, honestly, a little too much for me. Unlike other cathedrals I had visited, this one seemed to be more in a state of disrepair - or perhaps a constant state of repair? Water damage was evident here and there, parts of the marble floor had worn away, and some of the altars seemed in dire need of polishing. Along the walls, aligned with the peak of the 33-meter-tall arches so characteristic of Gothic churches, bright stained glass windows told a story, but some were missing. I personally liked the abandoned sentiment of it all. I found solace in the antiquity of the building’s spirit, and I appreciated its genuine nature. 

After passing through each chapel, we entered into a courtyard that led to two more rooms. The first was a small museum of silver and gilded chalices and crosses, french tapestries, and interesting paintings. The second was the "Chapter House" covered in Flemish tapestries from the 18th Century and topped with a 17th Century Renaissance-style masquetry ceiling. I think this means gilded and over-the-top embellished. This room reinforced a practice we have developed in our time here - look up! 

In sharp contrast to the vulnerable appearance of the giant roman plumbing system was the Segovian Alcázar, perched high-up on a rocky peninsular hill that juts out of a fork in a stream.  Many liken its position and structure to that of a ship, and when you climb to the top of the tower, it does feel like you are in fact steering the palace forward through raging … hills. It began as a fortress, served as a royal palace, was used as a prison, transformed into the Royal Artillery College, and now, it calls to visitors far and wide as a museum.

The location has been of military significance for all of its known history, originating as a Roman, and then Arab fort, until the 12th Century when King Alfonso VIII decided to make it his and his wife’s personal residence. The following Century, a large cave-in led to more remodeling of the growing palace, and in the 15th Century, King John II made the largest contributions to its construction, with the accomplishment of the “New Tower” (John II Tower).

After 1570, upon King Philip II’s marriage to his niece, Anna of Austria (his fourth and most beloved wife), he had sharp slate spires added to the Alcázar to reflect the current styles of central Europe. When the royal court took up residence in Madrid, the Acázar was used as a state prison for about 200 years before King Charles III converted into the Royal Artillery School in 1762. After 100 years of existence, a fire badly damaged the building, and restoration did not begin for two decades. During its restoration, its original features were exaggerated and beautified to reflect the 19th Century obsession with fairy tales and magical kingdoms, making the building more ornamental than functional. Thereafter, Alfonso XIII designated the Ministry of War to use it as a military college. It is now one of the most popular historical tourist destinations in Spain.

After taking in the wonderful external views of the Alcázar, rumored to have inspired Walt Disney’s creation of Cinderellas Castle, and gazing across the yellow and green planes below us, we stood in line, bought our tickets, and began our exploration.As far as ticket costs go, the normal entrance fee is €5.00, plus an additional €2.00 to climb the tower (which is foolish to go without). The student discount is €3.00 for the normal entrance (the tower is still an additional €2.00). However, unlike most student discounts provided in Spain, this one (at least for us) did not ask for further confirmation of our ages - meaning we both got discounts!

We passed through the entrance and began our self-guided tour of the fortress in a side Military School Museum. This was interesting as it had miniatures of the many cannons and laboratories used (from my understanding, they made ammunition here), as well as beakers and jars full of materials used for making explosives. After touring the displays, we decided it was time to see the actual building.

The first room you enter in the Alcázar is the Sala del Palacio Viejo (the Old Palace Room). The main feature here was a fascinating array of armor for horses and men alike. I enjoyed the reminder that I would have been tall in the 16th Century, and Jonny was intrigued by the spear-like toes on the feat of many suits. Apart from the museum decór the room was rather bare, and we moved on.

From the Old Palace Room we entered the Sala de la Chimenea (the Fireplace Room) a small room - with a fireplace - encumbered with a large wooden table. There was some interesting furniture, but we continued on quickly.

Next came the Sala de Solio (the Throne Room). The extravagant mudejar room itself was constructed in the 14th Century, when the Castilian province was under the controversial rule of the Trastámara Dynasty (upon the death of Alfonso XI of Castile, his illegitimate son, Henry II took the throne from his legitimate son - Peter the Cruel, and that branch of the family ruled Castile, and Aragon, until Ferdinand and Isabella united the country). The top half of the walls were adorned with blood-red cloth, under which blue and white glazed tiles (Azulejos)  stretched down to the floor. Intricate gilded doors hung below beautiful archways, and the domed ceiling was a fantastic cornucopia of red and blue detail. The throne itself, added to the room in 1808 in honor of  Alfonso XIII and his wife, Queen Victoria Eugenia (granddaughter of Queen Victoria of England) was red like the walls, with golden outlines, the Spanish coat of arms, and dark wooden seats, all atop a large, fancy rug. The room was rather small, overall, and oddly square shaped.

The Sala de Galeria (the Galley Room), commissioned by Queen Catherine of Lancaster, the mother and guardian of King John II through his infancy, was our next stop. The room received its name from the the ceiling which resembled an upside down view of the hull of a ship.  

Apart from an interesting wall mural on the far end, the remainder of the room was relatively bare, showcasing its golden stone walls, and highlighting the enormous, beautiful windows.

We passed through the Sala de Piñas (the Pine Cone Room), commissioned by Juan II and named for the nearly 400 gilded pine-cone shaped embellishments emerging out of the ceiling, and we arrived in the Cámara Regia (the Royal Bedroom). The bedroom was laden with faded tapestries cut to fit the shapes of the wall, revealing only the arched mudéjar doorways reflecting those in the Sevillan palaces. The four-poster bed, again in the thematic blood red of the Alcázar rooms, took up half of the room. I imagine it was a rather large bed relative to the people - and beds - of the time.

The most popular room came next - the Sala de Reyes (the Hall of Kings). The lower half of the walls were cemented in Azulejos, clothed in blood-red drapings, and decorated with large Renaissance paintings. the overall feel of the room was that of a reception hall, spacious and open with more enormous windows drawing the sun within. But, what is most spectacular about this room is the “frieze” lining the high part of the wall. There statues of the rulers from Pelagius of Asturias to Juana la Loca looked down quizzically upon its visitors. I, personally found the changing headdresses over the years to be the most interesting component of these characters.

Then came the Sala de Cordon (the Cord Room), lined with Franciscan cords to represent Alfonso X’s penance for his excessive pride. Then we made our final stop within the confines of the palace - the chapel where Philip the II married his Anne of Austria. The chapel had, like many of the rooms, been renovated following the fire. However, it proudly displays a painting of the Epiphany by Bartolomé Carducho from 1600 that was rescued as the place burned to the ground. Like Dolly Madison saving the portrait of George Washington during her retreat from the White House in the War of 1812.

We had one more exciting adventure to take before settling in to a traditional Segovian lunch: climbing the tower of Juan II. 

Many signs warn visitors, this part of the trip is not for the faint of heart, that it is 152 steps to get to the top. What they don’t mention is that these are hardly steps. Rather, it is a never ending spiral of (152) triangular, worn-out, slanted slabs. Adding to the thrill of it all, there are constant streams of visitors climbing and descending on these “steps” more suitable for one person. Oh, but don’t worry, there is a rusty chain dangling along the walls for you to grasp in case you slip and fall... I wanted to kiss the ground at both the top and the bottom, because for the second time in my life I made the journey unscathed.

half way up the tower, there is an outlet for you to rest and see another
incredible view of the castle towers and surroundings

And I would do it all over again because the views are too outstanding to miss! We caught our breaths and took a very long look around. On one side, you see an impressive view of the city and its cathedral. Opposite this view, you can look down and see the rest of the castle below you, and you feel as if you are steering it forward like a ship. The remaining sides only offer more wonderful views of the city’s rural surroundings and snow-capped mountains. I´m not sure I would have minded being Rapunzel.

Our workout left us famished and we sought a restaurant to indulge in a Menú that would allow us a taste of the famous local cuisines. Jonny chose Meson don Jimeno, and we were able to try not only the famed - and absolutely delicious Roast Suckling Pig - but also traditional Castilian soup - which tasted like paprika water with chorizo, bread, and fat throughout. A word to the wiser travelers than us: we were very preoccupied with making sure we could see the palace and the cathedral before they closed to the public. This meant lunch closer to the average Spanish lunch time - 3:00. I think in retrospect it would have been a better idea to eat earlier, like 1:00. We probably would not have had to wait for over an hour to eat on a busy Saturday, and we still would have had all the necessary time to visit the Cathedral and Alcázar. Oh well, we had a few beers, a few tapas, and the meal was well worth the wait. 

Our afternoon plans were more unstructured, and when Jonny is your travel companion, this often means falling away from the crowds, and taking the unmarked paths. We returned to the Alcázar area to view the valley below us, lined by an ancient wall. We were there not three minutes and Jonny is futzing with an iron gate. It opened to a set of stone stairs along the wall that devolved into a steep grassing incline, and despite my protest about breaking some rule, we were on our way into some unknown adventure. As soon as it was clear we were allowed to be doing this, I was having fun again, walking along the Camino de la Cuesta de los Hoyos (walk of the slope of the pit?). Up above us people had lined the walls to gaze at the castle, unaware of our existence, and we were blessed with uniquely beautiful views of the Castle and the Cathedral, while immersing ourselves deeper and further into the valley below it.

We circled the entire base of the castle’s foundation, finding random, un-preserved ruins here and there. As the sun began to set, we were scaling an uncountable number stairs to arrive at the top of the rock, on the opposite side of the castle from where we started. I need to be in better shape if I am going to keep up with the whims of my husband.

As the sun was escaping beneath the horizon, we found ourselves back where we started, beneath the Aqueduct. We sat in the plaza, ate ice cream, and relaxed until it was time to say goodbye to another wonderful adventure in Spain.