Toledo

On a Sunday night, I bought a ticket to Toledo for the following morning, somewhere in the neighborhood of 9:30 AM.  I have Mondays off, and I wanted to make the most of my day.  Then a couple of Sunday night drinks in La Latina with a friend turned into a very late Sunday evening/Monday morning.  When my alarm went off, I considered blowing everything off, but with the tickets already bought, I dragged myself out of bed and to Atocha, where I took an AVE southwest into Castilla y La Mancha.

I immediately fell asleep on the train and woke up in the Toledo station.  Still blurry eyed, I walked out into the crisp early December morning, a thick layer of fog hanging above the ground.  I expected Toledo to be a lot like Segovia, and the biggest theme of this trip was how incorrect I was about that.  There are similarities, but both cities are distinct, and in the end, I prefer Toledo. 

Toledo is cradled by the río Tajo, the longest river in Spain that flows all the way to Lisboa before emptying into the Atlantic.  The old part of the city resembles a medieval wedding cake, with layer stacked on top of layer, stonewalls and ramparts covering the sides.  When I first arrived and as I walked towards and up into the old part of the city, the mist and the lack of people made me feel like I was in a dream, 500 or 800 years in the past.

I hit the main square soon, however, and things picked up speed as the sun rose and I was no longer the only person around.  I grabbed a double espresso and a croissant from a café and then set myself to exploring. 

Toledo shares many of the same charms as Segovia…the winding and narrow cobble stone streets, excellent views from all around the city, delicious local specialties, and history for days.  Toledo is usually pitched as the city of three cultures, since before the Reconquista in 1492, Christians, Muslims, and Jews all lived in the city.  At this point, the Christians have left their mark most strongly, but elements from all the groups live on to this day. 

I was particularly enamored of the river and the way it cut through the landscape and framed the city in such a way.  While I was exploring the area around the Puente de San Martín, I stumbled upon the Camino de Don Quixote, a cultural trail that follows the character’s travels through Toledo and elsewhere through La Mancha.  It was really cool to be following in the footsteps of Spain’s greatest literary caballero and to also know that most likely not much has changed.   The terrain and the feeling of the land itself, along with the buildings, the walls, the cathedrals, make you feel like your walking through the pages of history.

La Mancha is a semi-arid but also very fertile plateau that makes up a large part of central Spain.  Much of Spain’s agriculture is based in La Mancha, along with other goodies like queso manchego, the delicious cured cheese, and very good red wine.  Toledo is also known for its carefully prepared wild-game dishes, especially perdiz, or partridge, along with several stewed, pork-based dishes.  Mazapán is the staple dessert, and the sweetly dense dough can be molded into a variety of shapes. 

Toledo was also the long time home of El Greco in the late 16th century, and the legacy of the celebrated painter, who was born in modern day Greece and then came to Spain, is very strong in the city.  I went to the El Greco museum during the middle of the afternoon, when a lot of the other businesses were closed for siesta.  It was very interesting to see how he developed as an artist and pushed the boundaries of religious painting and portraiture. 

                                     The Burial of the Count of Orgaz -- El Greco, 1586-88

I spent a solid 10 to 11 hours in Toledo, and I never felt bored.  Between walking around and getting lost in the streets, the museums, the food, and the cathedrals, the city has a bounty to offer the traveler.  Once the sun goes down, the city becomes even more magical, illuminated against the darkness of the surrounding countryside.  You can definitely do the trip in a day, but could also easily spend 2-3 days.  One of my favorite parts of traveling is really enjoying a place that you thought was just going to be OK. 

Toledo exceeded all of my expectations, and if you have to choose between Segovia or Toledo for a day trip, Toledo has my vote. 

Segovia

We got a bit of a late start to Segovia.  Part of the danger of taking a day trip during the weekend is that your nocturnal activities might affect your diurnal travel activities.  But, since the AVE can get to Segovia in twenty minutes and change, we were still in good shape.

We arrived at 4 o’clock or so and paid for a cab to take us to the aqueduct.  As the main tourist attraction of the town, it doesn’t disappoint.  At least 200 feet tall and surprisingly pristine for its 2000 year old age, the aqueduct is a testament to the endurance and ingenuity of the Romans, and those who have preserved the aqueduct throughout the centuries. 

We were intent on trying the cochinillo asado, or roast suckling pig, the renowned specialty of Segovia.  However, we were also dangerously close to the no-man’s land of the Spanish schedule.  The majority of bars and restaurants stop serving hot food from 4 or 5 until they open up for dinner around 8 or 9.  After one failed inquiry, the waiter recommended another restaurant close by that would serve us. 

We sat down to an outside table and ordered quite the spread:  half of a cochinillo, judiones de la granja (white beans with pork), patatas fritas, a bottle of vino tinto.  The bean broth was rich and savory, and the large white beans were unlike anything I’d ever had before. 

When the waiter brought out the cochinillo, he carved it up, each movement of the knife accompanied by the crackling of the skin, which at that point is essentially crispy pork candy.  The meat itself was fall off the bone tender and just a bit smoky.  We split the cochinillo four ways, and we ended up paying about 20 € a piece for everything.  It’s a bit of a splurge, but you’re not going to get this anywhere else, at least as good.  It’s that OG pig. 

After lunch/dinner, we walked more around the city.  The cathedral is one of the most impressive that I’ve seen in Spain, and Segovia is chock full of the smaller Spanish city charms, small winding cobblestone streets, plenty of shops, beautiful architecture.  The city is situated just on the other side of the Sierra Guadaramma mountain range, and the views of the surrounding plains and mountains in the distance are superb. 

The alcazar of Segovia resides at one of the high points of the city.  It was, along with a German castle in Bavaria, one of Walt Disney’s inspirations for the Disney castle.  There are tours to go inside the castle, which we declined in favor of sharing a bottle of local white wine while taking in the scenery around the city. 

As night fell, we had coffee right at the feet of the aqueduct before taking a cab back to the train station and Madrid.  It wasn’t even 10 o’clock by the time we got back, giving us time to recuperate before heading out for a Saturday night in Madrid. 

Segovia is one of the two big day trips to take out of Madrid, the other being Toledo.  We were there for about 5 hours total and had a lovely time, although you could certainly do more.  It’s certainly a great way to see the smaller city side of Spanish life, and there’s plenty of charm and warmth to be found around every corner. 

Sintra

On Monday, I was flying solo in Lisboa.  My two friends caught an early morning flight back to Madrid, and my train didn’t leave until 9:45 that night.  The sky was overcast, and it soon began to rain.  And it would keep raining that whole day, sliding back and forth between mist and downpour.  After a quick breakfast, I walked around a bit more, listening to Panda Bear and taking in the way the colors popped and the rainy sheen of the sidewalks. 

I decided to investigate the possibilities a little day trip.  I first checked out the ferries, which go to places around the bay of Lisboa, but I had also heard a lot about Sintra.  I knew it was close by, so I made my way to the Estação de Caminhos de Ferro do Rossio or the Rossio train station, located in the Rossio square near the center of the city. 

Trains head to and from Sintra about once every hour, and the round trip ticket was about 4 euros.  The train ride is around 40 minutes and takes you outside of Lisboa, offering you a glimpse at life beyond the city center, to the magical little town of Sintra, located right on the edge of the large Sintra-Cascais Natural Park. 

From the train station, you can walk into the town.  Cobble stone streets, small narrow alleys, story book houses and churches combine to create a sense of skepticism, as if part of you expects to see Mickey Mouse or maybe a peasant or lord come out from around the corner. 

There are plenty of options for food and drink in the village itself, and since the main monuments of Sintra (the Castelo dos mouros, the Pena National Palace, and the Sintra National Palace) are all several kilometers away, you’ll probably want to stop for something.  I had a stellar fillet of black grouper paired with a local white wine at Restaurante Tulhas, a cozy tavern with a menu specializing in fish but also offering veal cutlets and other terrestrial treats. 

Post lunch, I decided to try and go to see some of the monuments,.  Like I said, they are outside of the town itself, so I started following signs, walking along the sidewalk when it was there and on the side of the road when it wasn’t. The whole area is extremely lush and green, from evergreens to more tropical vine-y crawlers punctuated by occasional Moorish tiled fountains. 

and dramatic Gothic architecture.

Hiking by myself in a misty forest in Portugal was exactly as good as it sounds.  At least at first.  But as the rain started to pick up, and as I was still nowhere near any of the monuments, the euphoria started to diminish, and then my shoes started to take on water and the waterproofness of my jacket reached its saturation point.  There’s nothing that can put a damper on a good time quite like literally becoming the proverbial wet blanket. 

By the time I finally got to the entrance of the Pena National Palace, the last tour had just left, and I also didn’t realize that the entrance fee was close to 15 euros.  Having spent a lot of money already on the trip (primarily on shellfish), I wasn’t trying to drop that kind of coin.  I cut my losses and called it a day, spending 5 euros to take a bus back to the train station

  

Once there, still sopping wet, I changed into slightly dryer clothes in the bathroom of the train station, a lovely experience I assure you.  I made it back to Lisboa on time to catch my train back to Madrid, but my shoes were water logged and squishy for the entirety of the 11 hour ride.

Moral of the story:

While I do encourage you to be impulsive and improvisatory in your travels, it always pays to do a little bit of research about a place before going there so you don’t end up out in the rain.  Also an extra pair of shoes (or even sandals) is never a bad idea. 

And you should definitely go to Sintra because it looks like this when it’s sunny: 

Above photo from:  Catavino

All other photos by Tyler Simnick