Toledo, Castilla la Mancha - SPAIN
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 After a shower in the marble clad bathroom of the campsite, we enjoyed breakfast in the sun, with the crisp air from the central plateau seeping into our skin. El Greco Campsite turned out to be the most expensive yet and the showers were even on a timer!! Parking downtown almost turned out to be impossible but after 15 minutes of trawling the streets we came across the perfect spot next to the main gate to the city walls. This wonderful medieval city exudes an atmosphere of grandeur, but behind this facade lies an increasing state of decline. The city was once la Ciudad Imperial - the capital of Spain and the heartland of the Catholic Church. In the 16th century it was the home of many artisans (including El Greco whose famous masterpieces adorn the humblest of churches), nobles and courtesans. Although when the capital moved north to the barren plains of Madrid members of upper society left in droves and the city began to fall in a never-ending spiral of decay and disrepair. Its architectural gems still remain, a legacy left from its ethnic residents including Romans, Visigoths, Jews, Muslims and Christians. The city's medieval centre crowns a hilltop and a maze of cobbled streets trickle down towards the grand city gates, which are adorned with the arches and brickwork of Arabic style. The streets are lined with many a kitschy tourist shop and cafe, all seemingly awaiting the hordes of wallet bearing summer crowds. Unfortunately the locals are beginning to abandon their residences in the city centre for the new and comfortable suburbs that sprawl out around. Its not long before this medieval wonder will become another open air museum devoid of atmosphere. What displeases me the most is a continuous barrage of cars that press you against walls on narrow streets and choke you to death. Not even the local Council has realised the city's near state of decay. One wonders why they haven't realised that banning cars would actually be a positive action, especially in summer where the crowds must be horrendous.
On a more pleasant note each new corner graces you with architectural
magnificence and we spent two hours walking through the city. The highlights
include a myriad of twisting lanes and blind alleys (some even devoid of
tourists!); the mixed heritage of churches, synagogues and Cathedrals (most
offering the tourist draw card of El Greco's and gaudy gold embellishments),
landscaped courtyards and fountains hidden behind closed doors and austere
facades; the dominating Alcazar (castle); the city walls affording views
across the plains and more small museums that you can throw a stick at.
Unfortunately its synagogues are mostly ritzy hotels and most side chapels of
churches cost to enter as they offer a view of an El Greco. We didn't bother
with any of these as we saw so many in Madrid and all for nothing. The Gothic
Cathedral was well worth a glance crawling with ornate marble carvings
centred around wooden choir stalls. Dave decided to pay to see its treasure
troves including the sacristy and ornate side chapels. I wandered along the
busy shopping district munching on chocolate and I have just realised now
that this was the first time we've parted in months!
After completing a circuit of the city we returned to the car, where the windows were shrouded with moisture from the wet clothes we washed days ago. I almost believe that they'll never dry, especially when they're cooped up in the van all day. The highlight of the day was the magnificent view over the city from a surrounding peak, where the fast flowing waters of the Rio Tejo below could be heard. We stopped for lunch at this pleasant look out and feasted on the usual portion of baguette with salami and cheese. It was late afternoon by the time we set off south passing a barren, bald desert of rocky outcrops and dry grasslands until we came to the small town of Mora. Our eyes were dazzled by a supermarket advertisement and as we were in desperate need for a supply of food, we waited in the Intermarche car park for half an hour until it reopened at 5pm. We both took the opportunity for a siesta, Dave curled up on the front seat, whilst I did the same in the back. by 5:15 a horde of cars had arrived and the local farmers wives began their weekly shops. The selection was appalling and I only managed to scrape together one nights dinner and a few extra munchies. Dave drove out of the car park in a frenzy desperate to reach the home of the fictional character Don Quixote 30km south. Yet again we drove around the towns streets in an endless search for an exit to no avail. The main road would show itself and then the street we were on would become a dead end metres from its edge. its so frustrating being caught up in nowheres-ville Spain, especially when the local children are riding home, wavering across the street like targets on a bullseye. We reached Consuegra well after sunset and the ruined castle and 12 windmills that inspired the story of Don Quixote were silhouetted in the dwindling light. We always seem to be in this position arriving half an hour too late. Although we found a picnic site at the base of the castle and decided to spend the night in order to partake in a walk around these monuments located in such a boring and desolate outpost. It's easy to image how Cervantes would come up with the madness of Don Quixote. I too would be so desperate for visitors that I'd believe the surrounding windmills were hoarding armies. Dinner consisted of another boring morsel of pasta and I spent the late evening hours trying to catch up with this diary. Goodnight from very rural Spain! |
