A Tour of Toledo

On the last day of my long weekend in Spain, I explored Toledo. Since basically every tourist site in the country opens at ten o’clock in the morning, I spent my first hour outside walking the road along the southern edge of the city. While this route does not have too many sights – except, perhaps, for the Old Arab Baths – it offers some pretty views of Toledo that most tourists miss. Since the Alcazar is closed on Mondays, I only visited the gardens at its base and then backtracked to the Museo de Santa Cruz. The museum, which is free of entry, has an impressive collection of art by El Greco, who spent half his life in Toledo and whose tomb can be viewed through a little window in the floor of the Monastery of Saint Dominic of Silos. The upper floor is mostly dedicated to azulejos and temporary exhibitions.

I intended my next stop to be the Mosque of Cristo de la Luz, but the paths of the old town are so complicated that I ended up walking all the way down to the Puerta del Sol. Convincing myself to descend even farther was difficult, since I knew that the farther I went, the more I would have the climb to get back up the hill again. Zooming into Google Maps, however, I found a series of escalators along the northern walls, which gave me all the solace and confidence I needed to walk all the way down to the old Roman Amphitheatre below the city walls.

My itinerary turned completely chaotic once I returned to the medieval town. The escalators carried me close to the Monastery of Saint Dominic, so I toured it before retracing my steps to the Mosque. On the way, I bought a box of marzipans from a nun who told me she was all the way from Kerala, an Indian state whose Christian population believes itself to be descended from the converts of Saint Thomas the Apostle. I wanted to visit the Church of San Ildefonso next, but when I reached the door, I saw pictures from the tower that indicated the best time to visit would be in the afternoon, when the sun would be shining from the west onto the Alcazar and the Cathedral. Instead of entering the church, therefore, I went down to the Cathedral and then crossed the whole city to the Synagogue of Santa María la Blanca and the Monastery of San Juan de los Reyes. Somewhere along the way, I stopped for lunch and read the Wikipedia article about Toledo, which convinced me to also visit the Church of Santo Tomé with El Greco’s painting of the Burial of the Count of Orgaz before returning to the Church of San Ildefonso.

Of all these sights, the Cathedral (dedicated to Saint Mary) was the most impressive. It is, of course, massive, but by no means austere – its intricate decorations are massive too. Perhaps the most memorable among them is the Transparente, a multistorey altarpiece made of gold, stucco, and several colours of marble. At the bottom of this altarpiece sits Mary holding the Baby Jesus, while above her golden rays of light cut through a multitude of angels. There is also a special room for the golden monstrance, which measures over three metres. In the nearby sacristy, a painting of angelic hosts covers the whole ceiling, while the walls of the chapterhouse are filled from corner to corner with scenes from the life of the Virgin and the Passion of Christ, under which the paintings of all the Archbishops of Toledo wrap around the room.

Many of Toledo’s other sights have their own claims to fame. The Synagogue of Santa María la Blanca claims to be the oldest synagogue in Europe, though it was converted to a church and no longer functions as a place of religious worship. Similarly, the Mosque of Cristo de la Luz is said to be the oldest intact mosque in Spain – I assume the older Mosque-Cathedral of Cordoba was significantly tampered with after its conversion. The two buildings reflect the rich history of Toledo, which spent over three and a half centuries under Muslim rule. Despite its subsequent romanticization as a time of religious harmony, this period was not always peaceful. The city rebelled multiple times against the Emirate of Cordoba, and between the emirate’s dissolution and its own capture by Alfonso VI de León in 1085, it briefly existed as a taifa paying tribute to Castilla. During these transitions, many buildings were repurposed, and the Visigothic cathedral gave way to a mosque which was later mostly demolished to build another cathedral.

Only after all my zigzagging across the old town did I finally cross the Bridge of San Martín to undertake my trek along the opposite side of the Tagus River’s meander. Running on the edge of a cliff above the river, the road offers beautiful views of the old town, which in late winter and early spring becomes a mere background to beautifully blooming almond trees and other blossoming plants. Unfortunately, the trees provide little shade. The sun bore down relentlessly, and I soon found myself holding my coat above my head because it was too hot to keep it on. Even nearing five o’clock, the sunlight still fell sharply and continued to do so until I slipped back into the cool embrace of Toledo’s narrow pathways.