Chapter IV - The Hidden Town of Toledo

It was kinda nice to navigate on my own and then meet up with Alicia and Jon afterwards to take a day trip. Some of their professors had recommended Toledo, a town that was actually only about a twenty-minute skip by train from Madrid. I had a grand old time pronouncing the name of this town because it doesn’t sound exactly like Toledo, Ohio. In Spain Spanish, some of the consonants take on a voiceless “th” sound, so I think it was “Toletho,” and I reveled in sounding somewhat Spanish. Although, I couldn’t gracefully pull of the Spaniard “Grathias” instead of “Gracias.”

We bantered at the train bar (the three of us always have quality banter) and before Alicia could finish her café con leche, we arrived in Toledo. We followed Jon towards a bus that drove us and jostled us shakily up a huge hill through the town. We glimpsed out our windows to see a magnificent stone bridge arching over a river. The landscape and buildings mostly took on earthy tones…desert earthy…beige, brown, tan, whatever you want to call it.

The three of us landed in a local café near a statue of Don Quixote. The atmosphere was medieval touristy if there can be such a thing. We had our breakfast pastries, coffees, tea and my massive appetite landed me a sandwich for breakfast. Then we moved on to see the biggest, grandest cathedral I have ever seen in my entire life. The interesting thing about Toledo is that it holds a cathedral, a synagogue, and a mosque all within its fairly small confines…which means that Christians, Jews, and Muslims all lived in holistic happiness together for several years. MLK Jr. would have just loved it.

It’s very difficult to describe the cathedral in an accurate, deserving way. There were several temples inside and the frescoes on the ceilings seemed as though they might come alive at night. There was so much detail put into this building of worship that I had to blink a few times to make sure it was real. Unfortunately, so much time has passed since I traveled to Spain, so it’s difficult to remember specific intricacies, however I do know that Alicia and I talked a little about religion there (how appropriate). Because I am not the most educated being out there on the subject of religion in any form, I like to hear everyone’s take on it. But she mostly taught me a little history and why it was so central to a community. It felt like we spent a decent chunk of time in the cathedral.

Next, we wandered outside onto the canopied streets of the town and marveled at the gigantic hanging lanterns, baskets of flowers, and what appeared to be garland, draped casually over ropes holding up the canvas canopy shading us from the sun. We had stumbled upon the cathedral so easily that we assumed it would be just as easy to find the synagogue and mosque. But is that ever what happens?? I don’t think I have to answer.
We didn’t have any problems finding souvenir shops, that’s for sure. Soon enough, we noticed that there were swords everywhere…to my delight. It was the perfect town to display several swords, some on the street, some bejeweled, some with a squiggly shaft, and some dangerously close to getting run over by a little speeding European car. There were times when we all had to flatten ourselves against the walls (James Bond style) to let a car through.

Most stores had tiny swords (about the size of pens) that were exact replicas of those that Charlemagne and Robinhood used. Suddenly, I was curious if there was a shop that still made swords in town. Jon asked a store owner and as it turned out, there was a tiny shop next door (the only surviving sword-making shop in town). We went in and admired the gallant weapons displayed on the walls. Some were cheaper than others. The authentic swords were branded with a Toledo insignia and required a lot more dough. The owner took us to the back of the store and we saw some swordwork in action (a man molding, whittling, or bending (can someone please tell me the right verb/sword jargon for this!!)) and the kiln or oven where the swords are solidified. Jon and Alicia got to chatting with the owner in Spanish as I wistfully gazed at the swords for sale on the wall wondering who would buy them and what I would do with one if I owned one. How would you even fit something like that into the décor of an average home? It would be a little out of place…that is…unless you owned a castle and your day job consisted of being a knight. Okay…enough of the tangents. Yes, Jon bought an authentic Toledo pocketknife, which was actually very heavy and came with a beautiful leather case. It made a great souvenir and was much easier to transport home than a sword.

The synagogue was also beautiful, but inevitably much different than the cathedral. It was less showy, simpler, and overall, just interesting for me to see. We didn’t spend much time there, because we were hungry and didn’t want to be swept over by a school group touring the museum section.

We cooled our heels at a Chinese restaurant boasting a very reasonable “comida” special. The air-conditioning was much needed and much appreciated. It’s interesting to see the combination of two cultures in a restaurant like this. The Chinese obviously have their own way of serving and presenting food, yet, in order to cater to Spanish customers they offer their own cuisine (maybe not authentic Chinese) in a Spanish way. But I guess this is how things are done all over the world. Alas, my mind wanders stupidly…

We prepared for the mosque, but had excessive trouble locating it. Most people pointed us in a certain direction, but all we did was loop around and around through the maze of narrow, canopied, flowered, peaceful streets of Toledo. It was getting hot again. Eventually, maybe a solid 20 minutes later, we found ourselves at the top of a hill and walked steadily down to a building that looked suspiciously like a mosque. I had never been in a mosque, so therefore I was extremely curious to check it out. The mosque was much smaller than I had imagined, but very worn through the ages. We walked into the mosque gardens to admire a nice view of Toledo and then decided to head back to the station to catch our train home.

On the way back, Alicia retrieved a few pistols for her brothers (yes, fake, but really cool) and I found a painting of Toledo’s buildings in a souvenir shop. We were ready to go.

Back to Madrid twenty minutes later on Spain’s smooth train system and the capital was starting to feel more and more like home.