Toledo and the Rock from the Future

Sunday, November 23












The train left at 10:50. I left my apartment in what I thought would have been plenty of time, about 50 minutes, but aparently I underestimated just how slow people are capable of walking on Sunday morning, because I had to sprint to catch the train. But I did catch it. And, wouldn't you know, about two minutes after I collapsed into my seat, panting, sure that I had just barely made it, four Spanish girls strolled into my car, laughing, like the train would have waited all day for them.

It had been four months since I had left the city, minus one bus ride to see Bob Dylan in concert, which I don't count because the venue was more crowded than Madrid. So before that train ride, the only Spanish landscape I had seen was that which I could see from Madrid and the view I saw from the plane.


Toledo

Manu, Danny, and I arrived at the Toledo train station at 11:30. We didn't have a map, but Manu had been there once while he was an erasmus student and remembered it-- kind of. Fortunately, it was pretty basic finding our way to the city. For one, it's built on a giant hill. Once in the city, things are a little more challenging. Aparently it was constructed in a way that would confuse invaders (us, in this case).


Two things really pop out at you when you arrive in Toledo. One, the breath-taking architecture. Two, the vast quantities of weaponry for sale displayed in just about every shop window. I saw one I liked, but I couldn't help but wonder how one would justify carrying a 16th century broad sword with an enormous spiked guard onto the metro. But I felt comfortable knowing that if I were challenged to a duel, I would have plenty of selection.


Unfortunately for us, very little is open in Toledo on Sunday, even though almost every other building is a church. Last time I checked most churches were open a few days of the week, Sunday being one of the more important of these days. But no. Even the gate to the cathedral was chained shut. One could have easily wedged through it, but a uniformed security guard lounged on the other side. I'm almost sure it was a ploy by the Catholic church to increase attendance. See, by not letting people in, those people would tell their friends and family, who would then become upset and band together and storm the church all at the same time-- with their recently purchased weaponry in hand. The church would know this was coming and open their doors while the mob was still out of sight, so that when they arrived they could pretend like it had been open all along and then have mass right then. It would be super crowded, and super emotional. Unfortunately I didn't get to see if this was the plan or not, because we had to move on to see the other sights, most of which were also churches who must have been planning the same thing.

We did enter into a museum at one point, which contained (surprise, surprise) mostly church items. I was instantly drawn into a large, open room with a wide atrium; my all time favorite architectural element in the world (balconies are neat, too). The room contained remnants of Roman and Pre-Roman cultures. It also contained a pillar from 3500 a.C., which of course stands for "after Christ". Here it is. This is what pillars look like in the future.




After eating a lovely lunch in the park by the river, we spent a good two hours at a cafe with incredibly slow service, and then headed back to the train. The light hit the city just right. It was the perfect reminder that things really do still exist outside of Madrid.