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Started what would turn out to be a long, long walking day with a short walk to Iglesia de San Ramon, a small 13th century church with some beautiful frescoes and Mudejar achitectural features. It also housed a small collection of artifacts from the Visigoths…all explained in Spanish…so our eyes were mainly gazing upward at the colorful wood ceiling.

A quick stop for pastries and cappuccinos, and back to the hotel to pack up and say goodbye to Toledo. A quick taxi to the train station. And with a quick ride on the hourly AVE train, we were back in Madrid…or at least the Atocha train station. Snack time.

The AVE train to Cordoba was lightly populated…tourists and locals scattered about the blue and white seats. Leaving Madrid, the terrain was gently rolling, keeping the eyes entertained and the mind soothed. Rows and rows of olive trees. Fields of bright-red poppies. Pallets of bricks. As we moved south into Andalucia, the rolling fields gave way to rocky hills with jagged ravines topped with pines and short, deep-green oaks. Grazing livestock filled in the gaps. Numerous pitch-black tunnels created a slide show effect as we swept from valley to valley. Scattered sun-bleached haciendas with terra cotta tiled roofs and enclosed courtyards.

But soon enough, we transitioned back to green and gold fields as we neared Cordoba. Our arrival was smooth, into a modern glass-and-metal train station. Took a leasurely 20 minute walk through a wide city park, past fountains and Roman ruins to reach our hotel. Certainly a gem of a hotel…ultra-contemporary design with an outer shell of copper panels peppered with holes. Reminiscent of the de Young museum in San Francisco. Our room was bright and sophisticated, with views of a fountain and the Mezquita.

Took a soothing dip in the roof-top pool. The cold water instantly whisked away the fatigue of the intense afternoon sun. Refreshed and cooled, we began a long walk that became dinner that became a late night. No interiors this afternoon…today was an orientation stroll through old Cordoba and its unique blend of Moorish, Christian, and Jewish cutures. Started with the long 12th century city wall, with long cascading pools outside. This led us to the Alcazar de los Reyes Christianos…the former royal fortress. We skirted the outer wall and walked along the Guadalquivir River…which we heard but only occasionally saw…a wide river at the fall line…with a grass and tree-filled flood plain. Approached the impressive (and imposing) Mezquita, and circled its sandy-orange walls, with Moorish arches, golden doors, and intricate stone carvings. The belltower caught the afternoon sun, while the streets below were hidden in shadow.

As evening set, we wandered through the narrow, winding streets of the Jewish Quarter. The low residential buildings were all painted in shades of white with trims in yellows and golds and oranges. Needless to say, the Medieval street pattern combined with the uniformity of the building made keeping a sense of direction difficult. We found a tempting outdoor tapas restaurant…Casa Rubio. Once again, an amazing mixture of flavors. Moorish potatos with a savory spicy curry sauce. Tender pork with a rich truffle sauce. A creamy Spanish omlette. Oh, and of course…manchego cheese…this time drizzled with olive oil and topped with toasted almonds. We finished with a light-yet-rich rice pudding with cinnamon ice cream.

We walked off all those calories with a long route through the Jewish Quarter, around the lit-up Mezquita, and across the cities Roman bridge. Happened upon a city carnival, full of late night revelers. Even after midnight, kids were clutching their balloons and adults were indulging in twisty churros and waffles piled high with ice cream. Women dressed in flamenco outfits. The bridge and adjacent buildings were lined with lights.

Legs and feet need a break. Time for bed.

Started the day with a morning visit to the nearby monastery…San Juan de los Reyes. This Franciscan monastery and attached church was tarted up as the burial site for Isabel and Ferdinand…but now sits as a quiet wanna-be 🙂 The interior of the church is beautiful and grand, and the adjacent courtyard was sunny and scented with orange blossoms. A well-sized mesh above let cheery songbirds in and kept pooping pigeons out.

Pastries and cappuccinos fueled us for our next two stops…two synagogues…also nearby our hotel. The Synagogue de Santa Maria la Blanca was a simple single-room structure that combined Jewish, Christian, and Moorish elements. The Synagogue del Transito (free today!!!) featured an ornate wooden ceiling and an intricate plaster wall with pink and green highlights. Neither synagogue had English interpretation…so we spent time oggling the architechture and moved along.

A random set of graffittied stairs brought us to an unexpected park overlooking the montastery and the river beyond. From there, we continued up to the Iglesias de los Jesuitos. This gem was perched on the tallest hill in the city with a bright, sunlit interior and two lofty belltowers offering panoramic views of the nearby cathedral city below. This was church that was begging to be loved…gilded ornamentation, cool temps, photos encouraged…and a low-price Coca Cola machine on the way down from the towers. There couldn't have been more than 5 other people in the church while we were there. Awesome!

Next on the hit parade: Santa Tome. This tiny church had one famous asset…El Greco's "The Burial of the Count of Orgaz"…his grand masterpiece…right in the place he intended it to be installed. Certainly worth waiting for the tour groups to depart. This wonder was full of mini-scenes and intricate details. The main chapel was also bright and colorful…but who was paying attention.

Late afternoon, we kept in the deep shadows to stay cool. We took paths less traveled, trying to get lost. And yet we always seemed to circle back to some spot we knew. Popped into an exhibit Obra Social…a former church of some type…currently housing an exhibit entitled "El Arte del Desnudo"…a study of the nude figure in paintings and sculpture. How odd. Although, come to think of it, churches are FULL of nude frescos. Maybe not so odd after all.

Moving on we had a snack. And more to drink. Boy that later afternoon sun sure is strong. Wandered back, resisting the temptation to buy shiny trinkets of gold and steel.

Returned to "El Corralito" for our last dinner in Toledo. Frankly, the food+outdoor vibe was too much to resist. Added delightful plates of grilled chorizo and cheesy croquettas along two favorites from last night…the must-have manchego cheese and that fricking amazing pork/beef/tomato dish. Ugh…seriously…I was going to snap a picture of the menu to remember the name of that dish! Ah well, three beers later I really had better things to do.

Returned to the cathedral at midnight. The bells tolled and late-night revellers wandered by. Overhead, bats dipped and swooshed in the spotlights. A huge owl glided silently across the square to a hidden perch atop the cathedral.

Wandering Toledo's streets after midnight reminded us of Venice and Siena…pretty high compliments in our travel itinerary. We stopped into Alfileritos 24…a cozy restaurant with a bright orange bar…cervezas taste even better from an orange bar. Ben E King and Gun n Roses mixed it up. Jeff was captivated by the upstairs restaurant…with its two story glass and blue light design. A must for our next trip to Toledo.

A final stroll back to the hotel down a street with "Tome" in its name…we dubbed Marisa Tomei street. Ya know…its MY blog. Sleepy time.

Awoke to a cheery Spanish sunbeam. (Oddly enough, my mental soundtrack was playing a mash-up of the 30 Rock intro and some sappy Brian Adams power-ballad…I ignored the omens…whatever the heck they foretold!) Recovered from the multi-modal travel yesterday, we headed off towards Toledo's grand cathedral.

Along the way, we stopped at one of the many pastry shops. The specialty in Toledo is marzapan, but we saved that for desert and grabbed two flaky pastries–one lemon, one raisin. A nice light breakfast.

Toledo's cathedral is truly cavernous, and ornate, and all the things you want in a landmark. You can see why this one took 250 years to build! The march of time was evident as we wandered from nave to nave, each one showing off flurishes of a new era. And every so often, as the odd shape of the city blocks permitted, the builders crammed in a side room or two…tiny spaces crammed with art (a dozen or so famous works by local favorite El Greco), or garments, or golden objects dotted with jewels. Wonderfully cool temperatures made it difficult to leave this sanctuary from the real world…the reverent silence broken only by the occasional cries of "no photos" across the croud.

We followed winding streets decorated for a holiday for Corpus Cristi. A long twisted path through the city was lined with ornate and varied lanterns, while long ribbons of cream-colored canvas were suspended above the streets. The meaning of these covered paths escapes us so far–the only book we found so far is in Spanish only–but we took delight in the visual treat…and resulting shade! Wandered past the municpal market smelling of fresh fish. Named a sleeping dog Paco. Grabbed a warm ham and cheese sandwich.

We made our way past the busy Plaza de Zocodover to our next stop…the Santa Cruz Museum…now a tiny (and free) museum with designs to be something grander. In spite of ongoing construction, the building and grounds were full of unexpected beauty…a peaceful, two-story cloister; an ornately carved staircase full of whimsical figures; rooms peppered with even more works by El Grecco; a dozen huge tapestries with tales of La Mancha.

With a sense of a general direction, we set off for our next stop…a tiny Moorish mosque. We wove through tiny streets, circled and backtracked a few time, and felt the grand delight of being lost without caring. Views of the lazy Rio Tajo below and sorrounding Castille – La Mancha beyond. Occasional feral cats darted across our path. Delivery trucks folded in their mirrors to squeeze down narrow streets. Finally, La Mezquita del Cristo de la Luz…an 11th century mosque converted in the 12th century to a church. Under some sort of restoration, this tiny, two-room building shows off Moorish arches and intricate stone ceilings. The grounds include an overlook of the city walls and the Gate of the Sun…one of several we could explore.

The Gate of the Sun had a free exhibit inside, which also allowed us to peer down on unsuspecting walkers. Boil the oil! We wandered outside the wall through the Bisagra Gate, ducked into the cozy courtyard gardens of Hostal del Cardenal, and strolled along to the multi-level escalators, whisking us back up into the city. Strolled along the western and southern edges of the city…high above the Tajo. "Discovered" the ruins of baths near the water. Felt inspired to shower before dinner.

An even later dinner (9:30-ish) seemed fitting. Tapas at "El Corralito". Patatas bravas. Queso Manchego. And some divine specialty of tender pork and beef in a spicy tomato sauce (I will call it "muy yummy" since the actual Spanish name escapes me). Washed them down with several cold cervezas.

Meandered through quiet city streets stopping for the occasional nighttime photo. Watched the lights go out at the cathedral at 1am. Fell asleep with a head full of memories.

With a skeptical eye on the roving plume of volcanic ash meandering around Europe, we headed to SFO with an 'on time' notice from United. Soon enough, our pilot had received our 'slot' in the approved route guiding North American travelers safely over the north Atlantic and we were on our way. Our path to Frankfurt was notably more southern than in previous trips, but we only arrived 15 minutes late! Not bad at all given the dicey conditions. Along the way, we met a jolly German woman returning home from a trip to California–her two glasses of Champagne made her VERY chatty–and a middle-aged American man traveling solo to Florence. (Sigh…Florence!!!)

A light rain tapered off as we landed. Maybe the rain is what kept the ash at bay. No sooner had we stepped out of our gate in Frankfurth, than Jeff spotted his friend Tom from his Detroit days! What a small world. Cramming as many happy 'what's new' comments as possible into a 15min chat, and we were back on track to find our Lufthansa gate to Madrid. A shoulder-to-shoulder bus wisked us out to our plane…a cramped little number compared to the 747 that brought us across the pond.

The Alps and Pyrenees broke up the fertile green checkerboard fileds of Europe as we flew south. These were our first fleeting glimpses of Spain and its arid terrain. We landed in Madrid and zipped through arrivals. Then it was a short 15min taxi ride downtown to the Atocha train station to catch a high-speed AVE train to Toledo. The station is beautiful and bright…but no photos allowed 🙁 Damn terrorists. For the 30min hop to Toledo, we sat across from a chatty father-daughter traveling team from Oregon nearing the end of their journey. They shared cautionary tales of pick pockets. (Unemployment in Spain is 20 percent!)

In the blink of an eye we were disembarking in Toledo…the well-preserved former capital of Spain. Our hotel is right in the midst of the historic city housed in a beautiful historic building. A quick shower returned us to human status. We spent the late afternoon wandering the windy streets passing by sights…the cathedral, lots of tucked-away churches, and tiny alleys…all whose names I have already forgotten. They will all stick when we actually visit them tomorrow 🙂

We found a cozy tapas restaurant for a late dinner (9:30) under a clear sky with a perfect breeze. Potatoes, a spanich fritatta, beef and gorganzola, and two icy beers. Wonderful!

We took the long route home through deserted streets. A few nighttime photos to document the peaceful scene.

We will sleep well tonight 🙂 Buenos noches.