We got up early to take a local to Chamartin station on Madrid's north side, where we hoped to buy tickets on the 10 a.m. to Segovia: our first reserved-seats train of the trip . When we got there, we were surprised and disappointed to learn that the 10 a.m. was sold out. Fortunately, there was another train at 11 a.m., and we were able to get seats on that one. As it turns out, this was one of only two trains we tried to book that was sold out--both of them in Spain (though we were told--erroneously--that another was sold out; more on that in Munich).
We weren't able to use our Eurail passes because the Segovia trip was outside our 30-day travel window, and the tickets ended up being more expensive than we expected, but we did not regret going. I've been to Segovia four other times, but this was by far my favorite visit.
Though our seats on the train were not together, we asked some of our neighbors to switch with us, and they didn't mind. Emilio and I were in one car, and Mari and the twins were in another for a ride which included significant time tunneling under the Sierra de Guadarrama.
The Romans built roadways through the Sierra, which many years later marked the border between Christian and Muslim Spain. On November 30 1808, Napoleon's armies defeated Spanish resistance here at the Battle of Somosierra (see star at upper right of image above), which led to the fall of Madrid. At the Battle of Guadarrama on July 24, 1936, shortly after the outbreak of Franco's rebellion, Republican forces repulsed an effort by the Fascists to cross the Sierra and take Madrid by storm (see star at lower left of image above). In November of that year, Franco's soldiers had made it to la Casa de Campo (visible--but not starred--in the image above; more on that on Day 4 of our trip).
Buses take passengers from the Segovia train station to the city center, where the Roman Aqueduct is, but there are no buses to the bottom of the hill where you can get the best views of the Alcázar. I hoped that we could get a taxi that would take all five us there directly when we would have the most energy for climbing the hill. The first taxi driver we spoke to said he was not allowed to take five passengers (not the last time we'd hear that), but one of his colleagues talked him into it. Lucky us! He left us in the perfect spot (see image below).
Getting our Segovia visit off to an ideal start was one of the highlights of the trip for me.
The Alcázar started off as Roman fort whose foundations date to the time when Segovia's famous aqueduct was built in the 2
nd century.
In the 1967 film version of the musical
Camelot, the Alcázar served as Lancelot's home in France.
Muslims may have built a wooden stockade fence on the Roman
foundations after the Muslim conquest in the 8th century, but the city
did not attract much attention until it was conquered in 1088 by the Christian
king Alfonso VI. Alfonso VI is best known today for reconciling with
his onetime enemy, Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar. Diaz de Vivar had helped Alfonso’s older brother Sancho when the brothers were at war with each other, and he had once served under the Muslim
king of Zaragoza. But when Alfonso's oppressive reign became unbearable for the Muslims in his domain, they invited the Berbers in North Africa to invade the continent to support them. At that point, Alfonso asked his old enemy to occupy and defend Valencia in eastern Spain, and Diaz de Vivar agreed.
The oldest preserved Castilian epic poem was
inspired by the exploits of Diaz de Vivar, known to the Muslims as al-Sayyid
(the Lord) and to the Spaniards as “El Cid.”
Alfonso X of Castilla brought the Court to Segovia in 1256 and made the Alcázar his principal residence during his reign (1252-1285).
After marveling at the views of the Alcázar from below, we took a walk along the banks of the Eresma river at the foot of the limestone Cuesta de Hoyos beneath the Alcázar.
This looks like a dungeon at the bottom of the Cuesta de Hoyos beneath the Alcázar. (I don't think it actually is one.)
Our walk started off easy enough, but after we crossed the Castellana bridge across the Eresma, our pedestrian shortcut on the "cuesta de la zorra" staircase got steep fast. Near the top of the hill, we stopped to check out the entrance to an abandoned limestone quarry:
la cueva de la zorra ("fox cave"), which once produced millstones. The cave is now open only to birds and the colony of bats that live there. Our shortcut took us to the Calle Pozo de Nieve at the top of the hill. From there, it was a short walk to the stone benches in the Plaza de la Reina Victoria Eugenia in front of the Alcázar, where we took a breather.
Mari and Nina are having a pretend conversation on the plaza in front of the Alcázar in the photo above. Behind them, you can see the 12-sided Church of Santa Cruz, which was built in 1208. It once held an artifact reputed to be a piece of the cross Jesus was crucified on. The artifact is now kept in the city museum. The tower beside the church was added after the church was built.
Nina and the Torre de Juan II (1406-1454), which is named after the king who ordered its construction.
Thirteen years after Juan II's death in 1454, his 42-year-old son and successor Enrique IV of Castilla sent for Juan II's 16-year-old daughter Isabel (Enrique IV's half-sister), who had grown up in Avila, and her 13-year-old brother Alfonso, who was Enrique IV's heir apparent. Juan II had married Isabel and Alfonso's mother after Enrique IV's mother died. Though he was three years younger than Isabel, Alfonso was considered to be better suited for the throne because he was male.
Alfonso died--probably of the plague (though some suspected foul play)--at age 14, on July 5, 1468. On September 19 of that year, Enrique formally recognized Isabel, his half-sister, as his new heir presumptive instead of Enrique’s own six-year-old daughter, Joanna.
One year later, Isabel married Fernando of Aragon in Valladolid—without Enrique’s approval. Enrique claimed that this act invalidated his designation of Isabel as his successor. All kinds of trouble ensued . . .
Today, the entrance to the Alcázar is a stone bridge built during the reign of Carlos V's son Felipe II. Team Ruiz Benton is standing on it in the photo above). Though the moat’s origins were natural, little by little it was dug deeper as its stones were used to help build the castle. It is now more than seven stories deep.
In 1520 a group of rebels known as the "comuneros" rose up against the nobility and declared Segovia to be a republic (they also wanted Carlos V's mother, Juana "la Loca" to be queen). They took refuge in the Alcázar and raised the wooden drawbridge that crossed the moat at the time. Isabel's grandson, Emperor Carlos V, quashed the rebels in 1521, causing widespread destruction in the city (including one of its prominent churches--see below).
In the 1560s, Carlos V's son Felipe II moved the court out of Segovia to Madrid. After that, the Alcázar served as a state prison for almost two centuries. Some of the Alcázar's prisoners were kept in the Torre de Juan II.
A narrow spiral staircase with more than 150 steps leads to the top of the Torre de Juan II. We climbed them.
Behind Pablo is Segovia's Santa Maria Cathedral, whose construction began in 1525, during the reign of Carlos V, after his soldiers had damaged the previous church in his war against the Comunero rebellion.
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| I found this photo of the Segovia Cathedral online. |
Because we had plans to see more prominent Gothic cathedrals on our trip (Notre Dame, Cologne, St. Peter's), and because our time in Segovia was limited, I didn't put a high priority on checking out Segovia's Gothic cathedral. When we walked by it after leaving the Alcázar, we looked at the building's exterior and continued a talk we'd been having about Romanesque (plain) and Gothic (ornate) architecture. I saw that tickets to see the church and tower were pricey, and that confirmed my decision to bypass it, but I wished the kids could at least get a glimpse at how massive its ten-story nave was (see photo at right--not mine) and to see some stained glass windows. I decided to take a step through the exit door long enough for them to check it out. When the kids stage whispered to me "that's the exit!", I ignored them and encouraged them to follow along. No Cathedral bouncers stopped us, so I wandered a little bit farther in. It's easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission, right? (Especially when something is expressly forbidden!) Mari was totally on board with this plan (why should anyone ever have to
pay to go in a church?), and so was Nina, but Pablo and Emilio were horrified that we had knowingly wandered in without paying. I kept looking up at the ceilings and ambling forward, and we ended up doing a quick walk through.
When we left, Pablo and Emilio felt like fugitives, which amused Mari and me. As it turns out, I think we may been able to get in at a lower price that I would not have minded paying (the internet disagrees with itself about what the actual price is). But I think the boys' Cathedral experience may have been enhanced by the feelings of guilt, sin, and unworthiness--not too mention the thrill of the taboo--that they got from our willful wrongdoing.
Lots of white storks build nests in tree tops and on church towers throughout Spain. We saw these from our vantage point at the top of the Torre de Juan II.
I took the next two photos after Mari suggested that we head back down the spiral staircase into the Alcázar. I asked her to wait because I wanted to take some more photos, and everybody heard me except Pablo, who headed down the spiral staircase by himself, thinking we were ahead of him. No one saw him head down the stairwell, so he was, for the first but not the last time on the trip, lost. We suspected he had gone down the stairs and not over the parapet, but in addition to being numerous, the stairs were steep and slippery. Posted signs stipulated that adult supervision of children was required. Mari headed down the stairs to look for him and soon returned with Pablo and an explanation of what happened.
Together again, we headed down the stairs and into the Alcázar's royal palace.
The internet says these suits of armor are products of 19th century imaginations and are, thus, more replicas than real things.
This modern stained glass window in
la Sala del Trono (Throne Room) depicts Enrique IV, his Castilian coat of arms, and his personal emblem--a pomegranate branch. It was designed by Carlos Muñoz de Pablos, a Segovian born in 1938.
Built in 1412,
la Sala de la Galera (Galley Room) is so named because the depth of its ceiling makes it resemble the hull of an upside down ship. On the left side of the photo is another stained glass by Muñoz de Pablos that depicts Enrique II de Castilla. The detail below is featured in the lower left corner of that window.
This mural depicts Isabel's inauguration as queen in the Church of San Miguel in Segovia on December 13, 1474. It is also by Muñoz de Pablos. We took some delight in imagining inappropriate things the people in the mural might be thinking.
Mari named the kid in the bottom right hand of the photo above "Chuckie." She imagined him saying, "I will kill you in your sleep."
My friend the Internet taught me that the figures in the painting have black eyes because December 13th is the holy day of Santa Lucia, the patron saint of the blind.
After leaving
la Sala de la Galera we walked into
la Sala de los Reyes, which features small statuettes representing monarchs from Asturias, Castilla and Leon, from our old friend Pelayo to Juana la Loca (Carlos V's mother). It also features a painting of Felipe II (Carlos V's son), who comissioned the sculptures to be made. Beneath each monarch is a plaque that commemorates his or her greatest accomplishments. The plaque beneath the sculpture of Isabel praises her for running all the Jews out of Spain in 1492. There was a prominent Jewish community in Segovia at the time.
Modeled on the castles of central Europe, the Alcázar’s sharp slate spires (see the photo below) were erected by order of Felipe II (who reigned from 1556-1598) after his fourth marriage, to Anna of Austria in 1570. Their marriage was formalized in the Alcázar’s chapel.
After leaving the Alcázar, we ate pizza, salad, and gazpacho at the Alcázar's café on the plaza,
la Casa de la Química (the House of the Chemist). The café honors the Frenchman who worked in the laboratory of the Royal Artillery School which Carlos III moved into the Alcázar in 1762.
When King Enrique IV died in Madrid on December 11, 1474, his younger half-sister Isabel immediately took refuge within the walls of the Alcázar. On the 13th, she was enthroned as Queen of Castilla and León in the church of San Miguel in Segovia. The tower of that church can be seen in the photo above. Five months after Isabel claimed the throne, in May 1475, the King of Portugal married Enrique's 12-year-old daughter Joanna in Plasencia, Spain. He used that alliance as a pretext for claiming the Castillian throne. It took four years of bloody fighting for Isabel and Fernando’s soldiers to finally secure control of Castilla.
La Iglesia de San Martin (see photo above) was built in the 12th century in a Mozarabic style familiar to "Arabized" Christians who did not convert to Islam, but spoke Arabic and internalized many aspects of Arabic culture.
We finished our day in Segovia with a walk beside the Roman Aqueduct, which was built in 112 CE during the reign of the Emperor Trajan, who was himself born in southern Spain. It transports water from the Frio river in the mountains that are more than nine miles outside the city. After reading so much about Julius and Augustus Caesar and the Roman Empire, Pablo was overjoyed by this first encounter with one of the Empire's most impressive vestiges.
The aqueduct is more than 8 stories high at its highest point, visible behind Pablo and Nina in these pictures. It does not contain any mortar. It continued to provide water to the city through the mid-19th century.
We hiked up the hill to the east of the plaza, where the arches grow progressively smaller.
We walked back down the hill to wait on a bus that would take us to the train station, and I enjoyed seeing geometric abstractions in the textures of the aqueduct and its shadows.
When we got back to Madrid, Mari and I dropped the kids off with
los abuelos, and then we took the subway to Anton Martin station, where we met Gime and--for the first time, in my case--Iñaki. We had dinner together at La Sanabresa, and Mari agreed to go in with me on all the vegetarian dishes I wanted, including:
pimientos de padrón,
ensaladilla rusa,
papas fritas,
setas, and
huevos revueltos con champiñones. I also got a taste of Gime's fried
berenjena. It was a lot of food--but I ate and savored everything that was put in front of me. This may have been the best meal I had during our 40 days in Europe. Gime and Iñaki paid the bill. We took the bus home after 11.
First train ride, historic fairy-tale castle, colossal Roman aqueduct, sumptuous dinner with good company: Day Three of the Grand Tour was one of the best.
On the walk back to the hotel, we stopped off at Union Train Station, where we watched this scene from "The Untouchables."
