priego de cordoba: part II

M.A. and I both awoke on day 2 at 9 am, quickly showered, and went down to the hostal's restaurant for breakfast. We both ordered tostada, orange juice (freshly squeezed), and coffee. Two enormous pieces of toasted bread soon arrived, along with a basket of butter and jams, a bowl of fresh tomato puree, a second bowl with pate, and a small pitcher of olive oil. After years of my ritualistic breakfast of toast with butter and Marmite, I had no idea where to begin. Forty minutes later, stuffed with goodness, we were ready to continue being tourists. Our first stop in search of barroco cordobes was la Iglesia de la Aurora. The church was completely empty, except for a security guard, which I found a bit odd, but I suppose is perhaps necessary these days. We asked the guard if we could take photos; he said we could, but not of the paintings that hung on just about every available space on the walls. This was okay (albeit disappointing) because the highlight of this church is its incredibly ornate molded ceiling....


....and its many cherubic faces. As we were leaving the church, an older man on the street just outside told us we should not miss the convento de San Francisco just around the corner. We thanked him and headed in the direction he pointed, M.A. doubly curious that she had missed this church on her previous trips. The convent was set back in the corner of (yet another) tiny street, and as we stepped inside we were ever grateful for our chance encounter with this local man. There were several small chapels, but we followed an older Spanish woman, dressed in black, into the largest, and most grand.

Next we were off to la Iglesia de la Asuncion, which is best known for its impressive chapel. M.A. had described the ceiling to me as appearing like an upside-down wedding cake. We stopped there the night before because we saw the church door open, but alas the chapel was locked. M.A. has found this to be the case on several of her visits, so we crossed our fingers that this time we would not be disappointed. And we were not. Although the exterior of this church is more elaborate than that of the identically named one in our village, and includes this unique spire (below),...


...it gives little hint to what is found inside.



Our last tourist destination, and primarily at my urging, was just across the street---the Moorish fort and tower, which date back to the tenth century. We paid the 2-euro entrance fee, which also included a tour of the royal slaughterhouse. Time was running short, so we didn't make it to the slaughterhouse this trip, but it is supposed to also be very interesting architecturally. As I climbed the rickety wooden steps to the top of the fort wall, the American in me could not help but think they would never pass any sort of inspection code in the US. Part of me believes this is a good thing, but that part vanished as soon as group of high school students on a fieldtrip came racing up behind me. I had a flashback to my college tourguide days at Crystal Cave and the dreaded Friday arrival of buses full of teens from the Police Athletic League. But I hung onto the railing and continued ascending. And what lovely views I found.


I then climbed up to the second level of the tower. The fieldtrip gang ignored the barracade to the top level, and for a second I thought about joining them. But alas, I am too old to follow whatever the popular kids in the class do, so I turned around. Besides, I was a little worried about all the electrical wires for the exterior lighting just lying about (too many shocks from touching our dishwasher in my bare feet have made me uneasy with Spanish wiring).
Needing refreshment, we stopped at a cafe for a quick tinto de verano, and then it was time to head back to the hostal to pick up our bags. We had left them in the owner's living room, guarded by his ancient mother, who never seems to move from her chair. I wouldn't say she had a trusting look, but we still knew the bags would be safe with her. M.A. always chooses a different route home when she takes a roadtrip, so on the way back we made a loop around Lake Vinuela and stopped near there for a quick sandwich and a coffee. I had never traveled with M.A. before, but given the success of our first roadtrip together, I hope there are many more. Some parting shots of Priego de Cordoba....
I suppose some people would tire of so many olive trees. But I so love the color, that I am looking for yarn to match it, to make myself a sweater. :-)
hasta pronto, mylifeinspain