Let's go, Marty!! Sadly, I think we're in BttF 3 since we actually went back to the past, but I'm going to quit while I'm ahead and stop with this metaphor. (J is the expert on BttF, not I). I am exhausted (jet and/or travel lag?) and the computer I am on thinks that every word I type is misspelled so this post will be . . . . interesting to say the least.
Ok, last i left off we were on our way to Toledo - the old walled city. The whole city is, in fact, a historic monument, ie the government forbids the residents to change exteriors, buildings, etc and i'm sure every contractor has more than one anger-squeezey toy hiding in his or her office. It was like walking into the past. Cobblestones and metal, but not cheap metal, like built-to-last and defend hard core steel. You don't travel in Toledo, you get lost in Toledo. (only 1 more super cheesy part, i promise.) You wander the labyrinthine corridors in hopes that you will eventually get wherever it is you are going. Eventually. I have a sinking suspicion that compasses wouldn't even work in there, it's just that kerfuffled. But in those wanderings, that old world is revealed. A time waaay before anything at all resembling our world existed. Before cars, before pens, before private baths. As with everything in southern spain, it is a mix of ancient roman, jewish, moorish and christian worlds. The whispers of more dead languages than I'm sure even I can imagine chased me down the streets. The government has worked so hard to keep the anachromisms away thankfully. It was fun to just let my imagination run wild in a meager attempt to see their world as it was (at each point in history). I wonder where those girls speaking those dead languages stole kisses from their young boyfriends. And did those kisses lead to weddings or beheadings ( ok 2 more). And if so, where was the wedding reception held? Or Where was the deadman buried. What was it like to live inside a walled city when that walled city was all there was. When the whole world was a few hundred people and kilometers. And as always when traveling in Europe I am constantly blown away by the /oldness/ of everything. Our world is so new. And disposable. Everything in Toledo was so solid. And heavy. I understand why it was harder to change your mind back then.
And that doesn't even begin to describe the actual history we saw (as J mentioned). The Cathedral was just incredible. I love love love gothic architecture. I just get lost in the show, in the glitz and glamour. The sheer ingenuity and man power is awe-inspiring. Not to mention the dedication. When was the last time anyone started a project in our country (in our century?) with the knowledge that it would not be finished for hundreds of (like 400 or more) years? And stand for even longer? Dare I say, our country itself. The last (and only) great american collaboration. Historians cannot total the number of buliders, architects, etc because there were so many. Not to mention, it was the dark ages, so how the hell did anything that impressive actually get done?!?! Seriously. But all that aside, staring up a gigantic arched ceiling, light, bending thru the rose windows, reflecting off an pile of gold as big as a house, I see the majesty. I understand how they see god in that. And truth be told, I would be more than happy to sit thru a couple hours of babble every week if I was in that building. It is not only a celebration of god, but a celebration of man. It's not my god, and they ain't my saints, and I should sure as shit be angry for what the did to the jewish people in that town (not to mention the natives in south america) but all that just melts away. I just can't care. All I can do is gape. And feel admiration. I stand in awe of the hundreds of men whose blood, sweat and tears physically built that monument, and tap into the collective prayers. It doesn't matter whose god it is, or if I even call it that, it all goes up and finds a home in that glorious ceiling.
The sinogogas were inspiring, but more for historical reasons. They had an illuminated Torah -- which blows my mind a little. I am utterly fascinated by illuminated manuscripts, and cannot wait to learn more. They had a menorah that actually looked like the one from the /original/ channukah story (nine little oil cups). And ancient , imperfect coins ( which I love for the fact of their imperfection).
Two Final notes about anachronisms.
1) one thing that has improved. Food. J and I had a Michelin-rated meal that was out of this world. Gazapacho that was smack you in the face tomato-y up front, with a spiced, garlicky finish. The famous Toledo-style "prediz" (pheasant) that the resturant takes it name after. A roast suckling pig with perfect crispy skin atop melt-in-your-mouth meat. And one of the best, most delicilous desserts I have ever had in my entire life (seriously): fig soup with dates and almond ice cream (which I remembered while eating was similar to the other dessert I cooked for mister Bourdain). It was so fantastic I was making little involuntary moans with every bite. Mmmm. I'm moaning just thinking about it.
2) clocktowers. At 10:04pm, j and I were standing under the clock tower in a plaza at the center of the city. That clock sure wasn't there in 1200, but i doubt the scene itself has changed. I'm sure the air was comfortably warm then as it is now, not a cloud in the deep azul sky. The square still a-bustle, people eating and drinking, friends and families gathered together. That clock tower may be out of time, but it was not out of place. it was wholly Toledo (as promised).
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