(except where noted, the photos are mine)
TOLEDO
From September 19 to October 6 my husband Joe and I traveled in Spain, an early celebration of our 23rd anniversary. We began in Toledo. The taxi from the train station drove us up and around and around cobblestone streets barely able to accommodate one car, to deposit us at our hotel in the old city.

The next morning we climbed three flights of stairs to the rooftop breakfast terrace, passing the native koalas on the way. Breakfast was pastries, toast, lots of fresh fruit, serrano ham and cheese, excellent strong coffee.

For three days we walked and walked – in the medieval streets and across the Rio Tajo. Here are pictures from the river walk.

Toledo is a miracle of physics – all the walking is uphill. It was a tough workout, but good preparation for the rest of Spain. It is a welcoming town, unless you’re an asshole.

AVILA
Avila is famed for its medieval wall, which has not succumbed to time but still encircles the old city. We walked on it during the day, and walked around it at night, when it’s illuminated.

                                                      (image by Joe)

The streets are steep, but not as narrow as in Toledo.

We were there on a weekend, and the people-watching was as good as any of the official sights – large families including infants and great-grandparents strolled the streets, sat in cafes, ate long Sunday dinners in courtyard restaurants. And everybody (except me) had a dog.

I went outside the old city and downhill to the Real Monasterio de Santo Tomas. It was lovely, but its beauty is stained by its history. It was the headquarters of the Spanish Inquisition.

On the way I noticed a shoe repair shop. Joe had his broken hiking boot repaired there and met a friendly cobbler. The poster was a bonus.

We took a side-trip to Salamanca where we visited the Catedral Vieja. The extravagant interior of the Toledo Cathedral, built for the glory of God (or archbishops) had sickened me, but I hadn’t given up on cathedrals yet. I liked these ungilded (and beheaded) images.

BURGOS
By now I avoided entering cathedrals, but the exteriors continued to fascinate me. Here are figures on a fountain outside the Burgos Cathedral. (In case you can’t tell, this two-tailed mermaid symbolized lust. I don’t know what the guys riding the beasts symbolize, but I love their faces.)

These scribes above a Cathedral door looked mighty female to me, and I took it as a blessing for my writing:

We left Burgos heading to El Castillo, where we had a cave tour at  noon, but first Joe had a surprise for me. We drove to El Colegio do San Pedro de Cervatos, a 12th century church in a tiny village. Most of the ornament was high up under the roof. The surprise? A sheela-na -gig. Joe knows how I love these, and how they are connected to my late sister Luli. It was not on a cornerstone as in Ireland, but it sure was a sheela! I was overwhelmed; I would have given anything (except Joe) to have Luli there.

(for more about Sheela-na-gigs, see https://elizabethmccullochauthor.com/the-real-celtic-woman/

EL CASTILLO
El Castillo has the oldest cave paintings in the world; one is over 40,000 years old. We were the only people on the tour, with a very enthusiastic guide. No photos allowed, so I’ve borrowed some. FYI: “A 2013 study of finger length ratios in Upper Paleolithic hand stencils found in France and Spain determined that the majority were of female hands, overturning the previous widely held belief that this art form was primarily a male activity.” (Wikipedia)

                                    (images from pinterest.com)

After El Castillo we headed to Ribadesella on the Bay of Biscay, where there was another cave, as well as great seafood meals in cider bars. (I ate cockles and limpets.) We had our fanciest hotel there, with a sit-able balcony looking over the Bay – not good enough for Joe, who went swimming for about half an hour in the icy water.

The long walk through the Cave of Tito Bustillo, with precarious footing and another great guide, was full of wonderful drawings.

                                (image from pinterest.com)

After the cave, we headed for a hike in a recreation area in Pesanca; Joe negotiated one-lane rural mountain roads while I enjoyed the scenery. We only got lost a couple of times. 

After a drizzly uphill walk by a creek, on our way back to Ribadesella we went to Bufones de Pria, where giant waves crash up and over high cliffs, and misty geysers rise up among the rocks where you’re walking.

(image pinterest.es)

Weather changed our plans for a canoe run and a hike around a mountain lake, so we spent a night in Oviedo to break the long drive to Santiago de Compostela. In Oviedo I met Mafalda, an old Argentine friend of my family.

The next day’s drive was full of surprises and astounding sights and more remote one-lane roads. There was a bakery in a tiny town lauded for the best pastry in Spain, and the Cathedral Beach, where the ocean has carved out huge arches from the cliffs. No pictures of these, alas. But my favorite stop was El Castro de Coana, a pre-Roman fortified village, which dates back to the 4th century BCE.

Cabo Ortegal is the north west-est tip of Spain, where the Cantabrian Sea meets the Atlantic Ocean. Looking across into the beginning of sunset I thought I could see Canada, but checking latitudes at home I discovered it would have been closer to Portland, Maine.

(image pinterest.es)

We arrived in Santiago fairly late and very tired. The next day we did laundry while Joe toured yet another cathedral and I sat in a café people-watching. (24/7 togetherness is a bit much, even on an anniversary trip.)

I wandered alone in Alameda Park overlooking the town and the university. I encountered many friendly old people on their morning constitutionals, including a Santiago native who had worked for Iberia Airlines in Miami and a couple who took my picture with a statue of Isaac Diaz Pardo – a prominent ceramicist and promoter of Galician culture. There is a church in the park, Igrexa de Santa Susana. I admired these angels, above the front door of an elementary school named for Susana.

MADRID
As we drove into Madrid I had an attack of urban phobia – nasty traffic, zillions of people, huge buildings. But I adjusted, and soon enjoyed the energy (and the food, and Joe). I spent one morning wandering and ended at the gardens by the Royal Palace. I was writing in my sadly-neglected travel diary when I heard a band. It was the monthly parade in front of the palace. A large crowd waited (and waited) and a young woman escorting her grandmother urged me into her prime viewing spot.

This may have been more than you care to know but I had to do something with all those photos! One more thing: Joe was responsible for our itinerary and ALL the driving. It was a wonderful trip, and a hell of an anniversary gift.