Toledo

Toledo didn't do much for me actually. It was so far removed from the rest of what I'd seen of Spain in its untainted splendor. I think I would have liked it more if they hadn't had so much traffic running through the city, it felt busier and louder than Madrid, like a berated child on its high perch. 

On my first day I crossed the river out of the city and walked around it for panoramic views. It was so beautiful and I spent all morning perched on a viewing rock, watching Toledo. Then I went to a reconstruction of El Greco's house which I really enjoyed; particularly reading about theories of why he painted the way he did, including his poor eye sight, obsession with the supernatural and use of mentally unstable modals. In the late afternoon I met Sonsolas, Carlos' friend, who was going to be hosting me for two nights. She was sweet and natural, and we went to a bar for a drink and some tapas before she showed me around the sights I really needed to see. She told me about the ridiculous parking situation in Toledo, where the council had turned a load of carparks into 'green areas' and only offered parking tickets for up to two hours. Meaning that for a full days work, Sonsolas had to walk back and forth to her car at least three times to top up her stay. I was feeling pretty exhausted but Sonsolas was on a role, despite having been at work all day, so by the time we got to her flat in one of the suburbs of Toledo it was pretty late. We had salad with beet root in and an artichoke omelette with cheese and I could feel my body saying thank you for finally eating food that wasn't brown or jamon based. Sonsolas had to work the next day and I was going to give Toledo a second chance and see the Cathedral. 

The next morning Sonsolas woke me at quarter to eight and I rolled out of bed and made breakfast at a leisurely pace. I asked Sonsolas at eight thirty wether she should have left for work already and she said yes, she was waiting for me. Mortified by this communication break down and feeling like greasy lemon, I left the house two minutes later, wearing pretty much what I had slept in. As I walked to Toledo it started to pour with rain which was actually quite nice and after accidently walking overshooting my turning, I eventually found the library to shelter in. Sonsolas had shown me around it the day before and there was a really beautiful corridor with portraits in and seats where you could go and read. I wondered around and around looking for this corridor but I couldn't find it so I ended up sitting in the children's library, which was fine until a school party arrived all dressed as mini El Greco's and I realized it was probably my que to leave. I went to the Cathedral and tried to follow the audio guide but I ended up listening to numbers 1, 2, 5, 12 and 15 because I am utterly incapable. I didn't like the Cathedral, it was spectacular and don't get me wrong, I can really appreciate religious art, but all the decor was this highly elaborate representation of heaven and it made me feel like our earthly existence was sort of futile. Like we couldn't wait for the credits to start rolling.

I did however love the synagogue, and in all the historical cities I've been to so far on my trip I'm always really drawn to the Jewish quarter. The synagogue was everything the cathedral wasn't; understated and peaceful, and it didn't require an audio guide which was a relief. The history of the Jews in Spain (like in so many other countries) made for somber reading, times of peace and harmony could be turned on its head in a second by a paranoid king. It's made me think a lot about how much we fear the success of minority groups in our society and how it always ends up manifesting itself in violence. The Jews seemed to have this amazing capacity for making a life out of nothing where ever they went, however persecuted they had been, like resilient honey bees. So yeah, I think Jewish history is the best thing since sliced bread.

With limited funds and the essential sights ticked off, I walked around the city until Sonsolas had finished work and we went to a couple of bars, one with a sort of Moorish inner patio and the other in a bookshop. Then we went to the supermarket because it turned out I hadn't bought salad dressing but some sort of meat condiment, and the giant 2in1 shampoo impulse buy wasn't going to fit in my rucksack. By the time we were having dinner it was late and I was walking to Mora the next day. Sonsolas had found me a pensiones to stay in for fifteen euros and I felt so excited to start walking again. Roy Campbell's consolation for living in Toledo was the red wine and El Greco's, and I would have to say mine were pretty similar, but I couldn't last a week on that. My farewell to Sonsolas was more flurried then Laurie's and Roy's, and I didn't look back after crossing the gorge of the Tagus. Cadiz was calling.