The next morning followed the usual ritual of showers, breakfast, and the brushing of the teeth after floss. I had made arrangements to have a taxi take us from the hotel to the train station. The taxi was a bit late, but we got to the station shortly before boarding had begun. The authorities x-ray your luggage getting on the high-speed trains although it’s nothing like airport security. Like our Sevilla – Córdoba train, the train from Córdoba to Madrid had assigned seating.
The geography evolved from agricultural plains to rolling hills with pasturelands under what looked like a variety of oak. The train passed through a range of hills before coming into the plain that surrounds Madrid. The track for a high-speed train by its nature does not change direction or elevation rapidly. The result is a rail bed that tends to go through embankments or over a viaduct or through tunnels – so the scenery is either an earthen embankment, tunnel darkness, or a nice long view of the countryside. Of course as the train reached the plain there was much less of that and more scenery.
We reached Pte. Atocha station on time and had 20 minutes to catch our train to Toledo. Following the signs we navigated back through security to our train in only 5 minutes. The train to Toledo was also a high-speed train with no stops and only took 30 minutes. It took longer to get to the hotel in Toledo from the train station due to a dearth of taxis.
With our bags dropped in our rooms, we came back downstairs to the restaurant next door, Taberna Gótica. The maitre d’ who seated us (although it was a small restaurant of only about 8 tables) recommended the cordero asado paletilla (buenisimo) [translated: roast lamb shoulder – very good!]. And very good it was – the seasoning was throughout the meat, which was tender without being excessively fatty. We both though it was pork initially as it did not have the strong taste that lamb sometimes has.
After dessert and café solo (expresso), we donned our raingear and walked up into the old town looking for the El Greco museum that was about the furthest site in town we were interested in. We managed to walk in a circle once, before we followed the main traffic route up the hill and into town. By the time we reached the Plaza Zocodover, near the Alcázar, we were dripping on the outside and well steamed inside our raingear. We poked our head into the cathedral, but decided to try later (i.e. the next day) – because of the rain we both decided to leave our cameras in the room. The streets we followed were lined with shops. A lot of them were obviously targeted towards the tourist while others – clothing, pharmacies, etc. – were there for the local population. It was a lively atmosphere. After several consultations with the map, we found the museum.
The museum had about a dozen or so of the paintings by El Greco, with numerous others by contemporaries, from his school, and for the Toledo school.
After leaving the museum, we retraced our steps while there was still some light (which was fading rapidly) and made our way back to the hotel while looking for restaurants for a light supper – we didn’t find any to our liking. We asked for a recommendation for tapas from the reception desk at the hotel. Both places were up the hill in the old town (not far from where we had walked in a circle earlier), so we decided to settle for a glass of wine and writing in the diary.
The rain continued as we woke up and went to breakfast. The breakfast buffet was somewhat trimmed compared to the hotel in Córdoba – I guess Toledo feels the effects of the off-season more acutely.
We discussed whether to bring the cameras or not – finally deciding to leave them in the dry hotel room. Our first goal of the day was the Cathedral, where we wandered around in its Spanish Gothic glory. With the choir located in the center, the magnitude of the cathedral can be seen down the side of the nave. Perhaps the most interesting feature was a room where there was a portrait of all the bishops of Toledo. Most of them, especially those dating before the construction of the cathedral, were artists’ representations, but after that they were genuine portraits. In the cathedral’s museum, the other point of interest was the vestments dating back to the 1300s and how intricate and finely worked they were.
Departing the cathedral, I redonned my rain gear, which I had taken off upon entering the building to allow the moisture to dissipate. Our next goal was the Museum of Contemporary Art. Once again the twisting streets threatened to throw us off, but we eventually located it – along with all the piled bricks, sand, and other construction materials – as it was being renovated. I guess the lesson is don’t come to Toledo in the off-season and expect everything to be open. (The Alcázar was also undergoing renovations.)
Retracing our steps back to the commercial street, we stopped into a confectioner/pastry shop where Jonathan had coffee and I ordered the “chocolate negro.” This hot chocolate was almost thick enough to be pudding, but it was dark chocolate and it was very good.
We decided to go visit the synagogue – now the Museo Sefardi. The building had been constructed in the 1300s with the approval of the Christian king at the time and was the center of the Jewish quarter of Toledo. With the expulsion of the Jews, by their Catholic Majesties Ferdinand and Isabella in 1492, the building was converted to a hospital for one of the Christian militant orders, and ultimately to secular uses before being renovated as a museum. The curious thing is the museum seems to be dedicated to teaching about Judaism in general, more than the specifics of what was the Jewish culture that had thrived in Toledo at the time of the synagogue’s construction. The Jewish population has never rebounded from the expulsion in 1492. That population currently is about 40,000 to 50,000, and only a handful of synagogues have been established in Spain. [The New York Times had an article on 05 Nov 2006, "With Jewish Roots Now Prized, Spain Starts Digging" by Renwick McLean about the museum, a/k/a the Tránsito Synagogue, that we read on the way home. I'd link the article on the NYT website, but it's already been archived and it costs money to access it.]
We walked to a couple of scenic overlooks to see the countryside beyond the city and Rio Tajo. By now the rain had let up and it was merely overcast. We walked back by the Church of St. Thomas (Iglesia de Sto. Tomé) where one of the famous El Greco paintings is located – a memorial piece. We also saw a fair number of his paintings in the cathedral.
Working our way back across town, I was taking streets more by instinct than by map. We eventually found ourselves back on familiar streets – specifically the streets where we walked in a circle the previous day. We found the restaurant that the hotel staff had recommended, La Abadia. The dining room we were seated in was a low brick vaulted area that looked like it was originally designed as a root cellar. The space had been nicely lit in an intimate fashion, although I suspect anyone with claustrophobia would have issues sitting in the space. We ordered the menu of the day which started with scrambled eggs with vegetables and ham, followed by a pan-fried fish, finished with a generic dessert. Afterward we walked back to the hotel for our siesta and the usual glass of wine to work on the journals.