Stopover in Toledo (Excursion to Madrid pt. II)

Our first night of the excursion was spent in the town of Toledo, just south of Madrid. Like most cities in Spain, Toledo is old. Really old. Thought to be populated since the 7th century BC, it rose to fame particularly during the Reconquista (the period of constant war in which the Christians "reconquered" Spain from the Moors) for its guilds. By the 17th century, Toledo steel and swords came to be considered the best in all of Europe. I was excited to check out the sword shops during the few hours we had there that evening. I have to admit that I was disappointed, however. It's been a long time since Toledo has been making actual swords, and it shows in the sheer amount of cheesy crap that fills just about every "sword" shop there. For one, nearly all of the swords that are now sold in Toledo aren't made in Toledo, but rather in Madrid or, worse, China. Not only that, but these swords aren't actually forged any more, but rather are stamped pieces of steel (despite what any of the shop owners will tell you). And most of the swords are gimmicky movie replicas (Lord of the Rings swords are everywhere). We did manage, however, to find a shop that had a basement with real, forged, handmade swords. The cheapest one we saw was around 350 euros, which is about 300 euros more than I'm willing to spend on a sword. It was still cool to see, though.

Regardless of the gimmicky souvenirs that one can find there, Toledo really is a neat city. Its narrow, winding, cobbled stone streets makes the city feel its age. Sevilla is a wonderful place, but you definitely feel like you're in a big city. Toledo, which is much smaller than Sevilla, has kept that medieval charm.

But enough with streets and swords, what we were interested in was its famous dessert: marzipan. Behold:

I don't remember what this particular piece of heaven was called, but it was, well, heavenly. Marzipan, cream, and cake. Phenomenally good. Marzipan is basically sugar and almonds, made into a paste and then cooked to harden. We ended up going back to this shop four times that evening.

The next morning I woke up early for another unique-to-Toledo experience: the Mozarabic Mass. During the Moorish reign, the Christians residing in Toledo that didn't convert to Islam were allowed to continue holding Mass. Because they were isolated from the broader Christian community, their particular rite evolved distinctly to the rest of the world. The result was the Mozarabic Rite (Mozarab is the word for a Christian who lived under Moorish rule), which is preserved today in Toledo. Toledo, as it were, is the only place in the world with the permission of Rome to practice this Mass. The Mass was conducted in Latin, with long pauses for chanting, which was provided by a choir that I would imagine only does this liturgy. A fascinating experience. Afterward, we were free to explore the Cathedral of Toledo, which is stunning:

Unfortunately, we didn't get very long to wander around, as we were already late for the only group sight of the city: El Greco's painting The Burial of the Count of Orgaz, which was painted for, and still located in, a small church nearby.

Naturally, we weren't allowed to take pictures inside. But the painting itself was absolutely magnificent. There are times when you see a painting on posters and books, then see the real thing and are disappointed. Seeing this painting, which I first studied in high school, was the exact opposite experience.

While an impressive painting in pictures, the real thing is breathtaking. The colors are remarkably vivid, as if they were painted yesterday. There's something else about El Greco's style that I find intriguing, but I can't quite put my finger on it. Anyway, the Count of Orgaz, who is depicted in the painting being laid into his tomb, was Don Gonzalo Ruíz, a wealthy and very pious native of Toledo. According to legend, his piety was such that when he died, Sts. Stephen and Augustine came down from heaven to bury him with their own hands (they are the two figures dressed in gold at the bottom). The bottom of the painting, which has a darker tone than the top, is set in the mortal world; the top, the celestial. Although you can't see it in the picture above, El Greco actually depicts the man's soul being ushered into heaven, at the apex of the triangle formed in the middle of the painting. Books have been written on this sort of thing, so I won't delve any deeper. But it doesn't matter. One doesn't need to know the story or the analysis of this painting to recognize its brilliance.

All too soon, it was time to leave Toledo. There were a lot of things to see this excursion and although I could've spent several days in that city alone, we had to be moving on.