Going home.

On our last day in Spain, I had a swim, although the sea is remarkably cold, and then we whiled away the time between checking out of the hotel and the flight by having a look at Marbella and Puerto Banus.

The old town in Marbella is rather nice though not very extensive. There is a not very good art gallery, mostly prints and photos, in the old town, but in one of the suburbs there is the Ralli Museum. It was founded by an Israeli banker, who through his travels, got interested in South American artists. Now there are at least four museums, one in Marbella, two in Latin America, and one in Israel. The museum boasted of having gone international without going commercial – up yours, Guggenheim!  There is no shop or café, and you are allowed to wander around to your heart’s content and take photos. The founder’s philosophy is that art should not be “explained” – it is up to the viewer to find their own meaning, and that means taking time. He argues that no artist sets out to paint some message.

We really enjoyed the gallery. The only artist we were familiar with was Beryl Cook, who also seemed to be one of the few non South Americans. There’s a fair amount of surrealism and some striking abstract stuff, and some large bronzes.  The two photos which came out best are below, although they aren’t by any means representative of the whole.

Here’s one of a series showing the deadly sins and cardinal virtues, by an artist from Chile, called Carmen Aldunate, who has a consciously medieval style, but paints women in modern predicaments. This one is "Envy".

And this is by Ponciano Cardenas, who is Bolivian.

With still time to kill, we went to Puerto Banus. Last time, there must have been at least ten huge yachts, some with helicopter pads. There were security men in black trousers and white shirts on the gangplanks, and all the signs were in English and Arabic, and were for lap dancing and gambling clubs, or places that were pretty clearly brothels. This time there was only one really big boat, and it didn’t have obvious security staff.

That might be the time of year, I suppose. But the dodgy adverts are less obvious, and now in Russian, not Arabic. There’s still a whiff of sulphur about the place, though – lots of girls on the make, lots of middle aged Russian men, and clubs which are clearly not for us.

There are still plenty of Bentleys, Aston Martins, Mercs, the odd Rolls, but I did slightly feel it has gone down in the world a bit. Perhaps the jet set has moved on.

Then we went to airport, got rid of the pig of a car, and hung about for quite a long time. I don’t mean to complain, because lots of flights were cancelled, so the fact that ours was simply late, really didn’t matter. Apparently the French ATC are worried about job losses if the pan-European ATC finally happens. Frankly, I’d cheerfully sack the lot of them. They strike at least once every summer.

It’s really great to be home, even though it is chilly and rainy!

Ronda

The weather has gone off since we reached the seaside bit of our trip – just our luck. Yesterday there was quite a lot of cloud and a cold wind, so we lounged around very happily, out of the wind. I think we were both glad not to have anything to do. I did have a couple of swims, and really enjoyed them, in spite of the fact that the sea is uncharacteristically choppy.

Today, the wind has dropped a bit, and most of the Spanish families have left. We decided to go to Ronda. Again, we went years ago with our sons, in February, when it was quite deserted and nothing much was open. In fact, all that was open was the bull fighting museum. It was brilliant – even better than a good reliquary. Bulls that have killed toreros are “honoured” by having their heads stuffed and mounted on the walls; there are ears and tails of lesser bulls, and photos of toreros being gored, and later, in their coffins. In glass cases you can see their suits of lights, often with holes in alarming places.  The two older boys and I loved it, though youngest son and Phil thought it was awful. Having written all this, I have to admit that they were right.

The drive to Ronda is up and up and up a twisty road, and the peculiarities of the hire car made it fraught. I’ve already mentioned the dreadful transmission, and it corners like an American car – perfect for this journey. I haven’t driven such a pig of a car since the Jeep Cherokee in Kentucky.

But when we got there, it was all worthwhile. It is on the most spectacular site. It must have been dreadfully isolated until the road was built, and goodness knows what people do for a living, although it’s quite a big town, so there must be employment.

Ronda

There is the remains of the Moorish citadel, nothing much to see except La Mina. This is a system of cisterns going all the way down through the rock to the river. There are stairs in a tunnel and slaves used to haul water up in skin bags if the cisterns ran dry. It was a bit like going down Mortimer’s Hole at Nottingham Castle, only a lot wetter and drippier. Eventually you find yourself at water level in the gorge. The birds are brilliant – there are choughs, turtle doves, swallows, swift, goldfinches, greenfinches and even serins. I had to look that one up. Thank  heavens for the RSPB app on my phone; I could play its song and it exactly matched the bird in front of me.

At the bottom of La Mina

Climbing back up was hard work, as the steps are really high for a short person. Not to be put off, we went down to the Moorish baths, which are well preserved, and then back up again.

The Gorge

I was surprised to learn that during the Civil War, fascists were beaten in the main square and then thrown into the gorge. It seems that Spain is beginning to acknowledge some of the atrocities committed during the Civil War. There was a memorial in Jerez  to the victims of Francoism killed there. It looked pretty new.

We had a delightful light lunch in a café with terrific views, 

The view from the walls of Ronda

then set off on the drive down. We stopped at a viewpoint to admire the mountains, and under some pines found huge pine cones. I can’t tell you how thrilled I am, in spite of having badly scratched legs form scrambling around to find the best ones. The reason for this is that I brought four huge pine cones back from Sierra de Gredos  two years ago, and made them into Christmas ornaments. Ever since my younger grandson, every time we go away, has asked me to bring him some pine cones “as big as my head”. Now at last I have them. The only problem may be getting them back on Ryanair………………………….

Jerez and Cadiz

We left Seville promptly in the morning and drove to Jerez de la Frontera. It was quite arid and nothing but olives and waste ground nearer Seville,  but later it looked much greener more productive farm land; there were quite a number of watercourses and the land was irrigated. I do like the oleander in extravagant flower all along the central reservations.

We had booked into a very traditional bodega, not one of the big ones, because the owner has a smallish art collection. (Actually, not so small, but the gallery is too small to display all he owns.) His aim is to display a history of Spanish painting, stopping short of the modern stuff; he has some Picasso ceramics, though.

Bodega Tradicion

There are a couple of Goya portraits, and an El Greco, but the less well known stuff is fascinating. There was a wonderful St Michael from the fifteenth century, with a series of elliptical curves of frame and drapery and sword, which was brilliant. It’s the first  work of the holiday that I’ve wanted to possess. Whole palaces and gardens, yes, paintings, no.

After the art, we had a tour and a lecture on sherry, which was particularly interesting because there are similarities but also marked differences from the way port is produced.

We were given lots of nibbles with the tasting, which was necessary as fortified wine does go to the head.  I did not realise that some sherries are made with special varieties of grape, which are allowed to dry almost to raisins before being pressed. We were given a taste of Pedro Ximenez (it’s named after the grape type) and it was very sweet, but full of the most gorgeous flavours.  I immediately started thinking of all the interesting ways you could use it. My mind was going over the idea of pannacotta with raspberries and a tablespoonful of Pedro Ximenez over it all; but it turned out to be sixty euros a bottle, and I’m afraid we came over mean.

We went to the alcazar, which was interesting because the aljibe – the cistern – was on show and they had rebuilt the water lifting arrangements.

Aljibe

Water lifting wheels - see the clay pots, on a long loop into
and out of the cistern.

Then lunch. The old town is delightful, and the entire population of Jerez seemed to be at one or another restaurant eating and drinking. Fortunately, I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many restaurants in a small area. We ate a beetroot salad, and then a steak in a Pedro Ximenez sauce. It was very very rich, but completely delicious.

We thought we had better have a look at the cathedral. It was much more bearable that the one in Seville, but there is still solid silver this, and gold that. There was one triumph of the jeweller’s art, set with coral and emeralds and tiny pearls to form bunches of grapes; it was so lovely, but one can’t help thinking that it wasn’t at all what Jesus had in mind.

Then, feeling we had allowed enough time and food to be sober, we drove to Cadiz. If you look at a map, you will see that Cadiz is almost an island. We crossed salt water lagoons, from which salt was being extracted, and then a quite narrow bridge. You can see quite extensive docks, and a new suspension bridge under construction.

The hotel is brilliant, just a street from the sea, which is producing a lovely cool breeze. The beach is lovely. I must say, Phil has excelled himself on hotels this holiday; I’m going to be spoiled and too grand for the sort of hotels we normally stay in in England.

Walking into Cadiz centre. Cathedral on the right. The "rocks" along the edge of the sea are not rocks, but the
remains of the sea wall.

We walked out towards the cathedral along the sea front. There is a lovely wind from the sea, and the beaches were full of people enjoying themselves; I think that Corpus Christi is a public holiday in lots of places in Spain, and as it fell on a Thursday, lots of people seem to be having a long weekend. Cadiz has a smashing atmosphere, people seem to really have fun. There are lots of flamenco places but apparently flamenco in Cadiz is much less waily and tortured, and much more cheerful. God knows, it needs to be.

Saturday

After a day in Cadiz, I must say I really like the place. It’s so cheerful and bustling. The beaches are lovely. You could have a very pleasant few days here.

Cadiz is the very tip of a peninsula, with salt marshes on the landside, so very defensible, from the land anyway, and was settled about seventh century B.C. by the Phoenicians, who developed into the Punic Empire. Then there was an important Roman town, then the Moors, and eventually it became the Spanish navy’s chief port. There’s a very interesting excavation you can visit.

Unfortunately for Spain, Sir Francis Drake and the Earl of Essex both messed the place up. Philip II had land and sea defences built, rather a case of shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted. But then the city was confined, so you get acres of old houses, narrow streets, enchanting squares, and all with virtually no motor traffic.  Everyone is out strolling, and shopping, and eating, and drinking, and gossiping – it’s lovely.

The land gate - Puerto Tierra. A large hole has been cut
through the walls for traffic. Just inside are massive
Barracks.

One of the seaward forts. 

We did visit the Central Market – well worth a visit, and lots of fast food places, with a glass of sherry at one euro – and the cathedral, which was rebuilt after Essex destroyed the old one. It took hundreds of years to get it finished. The general style is baroque, and it’s quite OK as Spanish churches go. There’s more daylight than usual. Also, Manuel de Falla is buried in the crypt.

Near the cathedral are plaques in memory of the commander of the Spanish fleet at Trafalgar, who was wounded and died at that house, and then in memory of all the other sailors and soldiers who died at Trafalgar. There is another link with the Peninsular War. Cadiz was the capital of the free Spanish government. A cortes was called which agreed a democratic constitution. Unfortunately when the Spanish King was safely back on his throne, he repudiated it. Still, Cadiz is very proud of its part.

Then off to Estepona. We drove past Medina Sidonia, as in Duke of, commander of the Armada. It’s only occurred to me on this holiday that the “medina” bit is Arab, and the “Sidonia” bit is from the Phoenician’s Sidon.

Actually the hotel is quite a long way outside Estepona. Phil was rather worried about it, as hotels on the Costa del Sol have a reputation. As we got towards the coast the degree of urbanisation – horrible housing developments, waste land, etc, got us worried. But it’s really nice – there are gardens down to the beach and the sea, and the buffet dinner was very good. I’ve already had a swim in the sea.

View from our room.

Seville

It was rather cloudy yesterday, which was great, as it was a very pleasant temperature all day.

We crossed the river; the banks are attractively landscaped, and are used for cycling, jogging, and walking. We visited the Torre del Oro. It is on a dodecahedron plan, and it’s part of the Arab defences of the city. There was another tower across the river, with a chain between them, to guard against attack by ship. Now it’s a small naval museum, and Phil really liked a lot of the ship models.

Torre del Oro

Then we went to the Alcazar, which is just amazing. The guide book was quite cool about it, but it is wonderful. It was founded  very early tenth century, but expanded several times. The truly gorgeous, I want to live here, bit was built by Pedro I of Castille between 1364 and 1366.

Pedro seems to have believed the Moors knew a thing or two about creating beautiful, comfortable palaces, and he was allied with the emir of Granada, who lent him craftsmen. The result is a wonderful mixture of Arab decorations with Gothic touches. It’s brilliant. Go at once.

See the Gothic motifs and the Arabic calligraphy.

Pedro's palace

Ceiling -isn't it heavenly?

Carving, with the hand of Fatima (at the bottom)

This is not to say that Pedro was a nice man;  he murdered an Arab guest for his jewels, one of which, an enormous uncut ruby, he gave to the Black Prince. It’s now in the Imperial State Crown.

Mind you, there’s a Patio of the Maidens, named for the tribute Christians had to pay the Moorish kings, of one hundred virgins.

There are also apartments built for Charles V, which, needless to say, are pompous and soulless, and there are apartments used by the present royal family when they visit Seville, but we didn’t visit those.

There’s the oldest painting to show the Americas, with the Virgin with Charles V, and native Americans under her cloak for protection. Poor devils, they didn’t know what they were in for.

There are very extensive, very beautiful and well maintained  gardens, from lovely little enclosed ones to an “English” garden, and there’s a maze, but you aren’t allowed in it. Perhaps they save it for the Royal family. Although Juan Carlos has been shown on TV abdicating, and he looks much older than our Queen. I can’t imagine him playing hide and seek in the maze. Whereas our queen can still walk backwards down steps in heels.

Patio garden, with acanthus

Patio garden with African lilies

Cistern, in the alcazar gardens

T

Then we had a coffee and went off to the Cathedral. The drivers of carriages are touting for custom all around there, and it upset me, because I bet all those horses end their days in the bullring, with their vocal cords cut to stop them screaming.

So the cathedral is apparently officially the largest in the world, by volume. It’s not an attractive building, and inside it’s full of monstrosities, usually solid gold or silver monstrosities. I think that’s all I’m going to say about it. Phil said he thought that Martin Luther had a point, and of course he did, but unfortunately the Spanish Inquisition had a great many points, not to mention thumbscrews, racks, fires etc, and weren’t afraid to use them.

The tower was the minaret of the mosque. It’s Almohad style, like the Kutoubia in Marakech, built about 1190. There are no steps, just a series of quite gently inclined ramps, and to give the call to prayer, the imam rode a donkey to the top and back down. They’ve stuck a Christian bit on the top, but it’s still a brilliant building. So we did enjoy that bit of the cathedral, and the Patio de los Naranjos, which was the ablution court for the mosque, is also nice.

By this time we had had enough, so we had a very late lunch of roasted red pepper salad and mixed fried fish, and  then staggered back to do our washing in the little laundrette of the holiday flats, and have a rest..

Today we went first to the Museo de Bellas Artes, but it was closed until later in the morning. There was a square outside, with benches and flowers and a couple of baobab trees providing shade, but unfortunately it was heavily decorated with dog mess and stank of pee. 

So we walked on to see the Metropol Parasol in Plaza de la Encarnacion. Again, everything was closed – the market, the archaeological bits underneath, the walkway above – and it was all quite depressing. Obviously the area had got badly run down, hence the parasol, but we were rather unimpressed by it. It’s supposed to be the largest wooden building in the world, but it doesn’t look wooden. If you go to the Globe, or similar wooden structures, the untreated wood has a lovely silvery sheen and you can see the grain. This looked like MDF – you couldn’t see any grains or knots, and it looked painted. Also the metal fastenings holding it together are very intrusive. So we weren’t keen, although it is daring to put something like that in the old city.

Then we returned to the museum, which was open at last. We did rather whizz through it as it is stuffed with huge religious pictures, everyone looking agonised and suffering, often with gold plates on their heads.  There are a lot of Riberas, and you can actually see that they are better than the rest, but I still wouldn’t want them.

The museum is in an old convent, appropriated by the state in about 1840, and the building is worth seeing. There are a couple of lovely patios and a huge (for a convent) and spectacular chapel.

The other good thing was some paintings of about 1920, so-called Sevillian naturalism, of everyday life. It was quite stunning to see how backward Spain was then. There was a painting of the women working in the huge tobacco factory, as in “Carmen”, bringing their babies to work and stopping to feed them, and hand working in groups at tables. Long before this, John Player had mechanised the manufacture of tobacco products in Nottingham, and made himself a fortune.

The entrance to the tobacco factory 4,000 women worked here, searched on leaving in case
 they tried to take out tobacco. It has a moat and sentry boxes. Now it's
the technical university. 

We walked through the old city, with its narrow alleys, and along the modern, that is, turn of the twentieth century, boulevards, which are actually very attractive. Seville is flat and traffic, except for the tram, is banned from some of the boulevards, so there are lots of cyclists and skaters.

After a bit we saw hordes of people done up in their best, as if for a wedding, with twelve year old boys in suits and such. We heard a drum and realised there was a smallish detachment of the military, with band and rifles, marching along. Then we spotted the biers, or whatever they call them, with statues of saints carried shoulder high.

The road had been strewn with rosemary, and as it was trampled the smell was delicious. The great west doors of the cathedral were opened, and people were flooding out.

There was a tourist information office, so I went in and asked what was going on. The lady I spoke to had difficulty understanding what I wanted to know, but eventually we established that today is Corpus Christi. I think she didn’t understand that I might not know what day it is.

For our final fling we had a look at Parque Maria Luisa. There are buildings built for a Spanish- American great exhibition in 1929, and although they are definitely impressive, it’s difficult to believe they were built as late as 1929. There are tiled scenes depicting something about each big Spanish city, and the latest events shown took place in the war of independence against the French. Mostly they show the local Moors surrendering. So this is a commercial exhibition, and instead of Bilbao’s signature tile scene  showing steel works, it shows the Moors getting beaten.

Plaza de Espana, built for the Spanish American Fair

Seville has definitely a big city, capital of Andalucia, appearance, but we don’t like it as much as Cordoba or Granada. The religiosity is overwhelming. You’re never out of sight of a tiled picture of a suffering Madonna or sacred heart, or half starved saint. There are churches everywhere, every few yards it seems, and meeting houses for religious brotherhoods. And the other off putting factor is all the bullfighting posters, pictures, clothes and such. This may not be permanent – Corpus Christi is apparently the day of a specially important bull fight – but it isn’t pleasant.

To Seville

In the evening yesterday, we went out into Cordoba to have a look at the Juderia. The Synagogue, the other thing, apart from the mosque, that we really wanted to see, is closed until August. So it was really a case of pottering about staring, and finding a bar for some tapas. It is really lovely, and very peaceful, much less of the busy young people vibe that there was in Granada. But that may not be a true impression, because it kept trying to rain, big but infrequent drops, and there were frequent rolls of thunder. So maybe everyone else had the sense to stay inside.

Patio in Cordoba

Statue of Maimonides, the Cordoban
Jewish philosopher and jurist

Eventually, we decided we had pushed our luck for long enough, and it would be really unpleasant to walk across the Roman Bridge in a serious thunderstorm, and returned to the hotel. Cordoba is the European city of culture in 2016, so we’ll aim to return then.

Today we drove to Seville. It was a pleasant drive, over rolling hills, with wheat, mostly already harvested, fields of deep yellow sunflowers, olives, and great masses of oleander in bloom in the motorway verges and central reservation. It all seemed much more fertile that from Granada to Cordoba, which had much steeper hills and was quite desolate in places. The only agricultural enterprise seemed to be olives. 

Grand doorway of the museum.

We stopped at Ecija, a really lovely town, which in Roman times was extremely rich, on the olive oil trade. The municipal museum, in a beautiful old palace, was surprisingly interesting.

The patio of the municipal museum, Ecija

 

Some years ago, the whole of the large main square was excavated, and some really high class statuary was found, piled into a pool behind the main temple. I don’t know who put them there; I would suspect the Moors, objecting to the representation of the human form, in particular the scantily clad human form, but the dates didn’t seem right.

Dying Amazon - Roman copy of a Greek original

There were also some very impressive mosaic floors. This one shows Bacchus teaching humans how to make wine.

The museum explained that the olive oil trade used large numbers of slaves. I don’t know who picks all those olives today. I’ve done olive picking and it is very labour intensive, and not at all simple to mechanise. Ecija apparently had an amphitheatre and a hippodrome, so the trade certainly paid.

Then we stopped at Carmona, also a nice town, high on a ridge, with a very ruined alcazar. The views across the plain are tremendous. There is a parador in part of the alcazar, I think in the stables.

Street in Carmona. The "sails" are surprisingly effective
at keeping the street cooler.

We visited a couple of churches, which have enormous and truly hideous gilded altarpieces for each chapel, and ghastly objects on biers to be carried through the city, all in silver. No wonder Spain declined; Britain spent the profits of empire on railways and establishing tea plantations in India, coffee in Kenya, rubber in Malaya etc etc., and Spain spent them on building churches with shockingly awful decorations.

We had an excellent menu del dia late lunch, and then continued to Seville. The traffic was quite challenging and Phil decided he knew better than the satnav, goodness knows why, but we got here and it’s a little apartment. So then we went to the nearby supermarket, for food for our breakfast, and then had a decent cup of tea.

Later we walked the short distance to the river. There were people fishing, sculling, and canoeing, so there was plenty to see. Also there are lots of bars, so eating should not be a problem 

Cordoba

We left Granada after breakfast and drove to Cordoba. The hire car is bigger than we expected. It is a Citroen with an automatic change gear which is supposed to be even more economical on fuel than a manual but it's awful. There is an alarming loss of power at every gear change, so you have to make sure you have loads of room to spare before pulling out on the motorway, or off from a roundabout. Also it does not creep forward in drive, and has an electronic brake, which is making hill starts a bit tense, until we get used to it.

Cordoba is just outside Medina al-Zahra, an abandoned city, which was lost until the twentieth century and has been being excavated ever since. The history was almost more interesting than the site. In the tenth century Abd el-Rahman, ruler of Cordoba, appointed himself Caliph, in the Ummayad line. At this time the Moslem kingdoms in Spain and North Africa being were threatened by the Fatimid caliphate - who were Shia.

Abd el-Rahman decided to build a new city, befitting a caliph. The works began in 936 and were enormous  - the flanks of the hills were terraced, walls about four and a half kilometers long were   built, there were palaces, gardens, opulent administrative buildings, and a large population. He allied himself with Byzantium against the Fatimids, and had Byzantine mosaic artists to decorate his palaces. Then, less than a hundred years after building commenced, the city was wrecked in internecine fighting.

View of Medina al-Zahra

The ruins were plundered, first for the treasures - sculpted capitals from Medina al-Zahra have turned up as far afield as Marrakech and Rabat. Then the ruins were plundered for building stone, and what was left was eventually covered with silt and forgotten.

It all reminded me of Daulatabad, in Maharashtra, close to the Ellora and Ajanta Caves, which was built on an even grander scale as a new capital and very soon abandoned. In both cases, only a fraction of the city has been rediscovered. It was even hotter than Daulatabad, and we scuttled from patch of shade to patch of shade. The car thermometer read 40 degrees when we were on the motorway, not parked.

As I said, the history was the really fascinating bit, and the museum was excellent - and beautifully cool! But the site showed how the Moors had taken over Roman ideas, and made them their own, very distinctive, style. There is a very luxurious residence, which the archaeologists believe, on what grounds I'm not sure, belonged to the caliph's chief minister. It had his own ensuite bathroom and latrine.

The mosque is very large and unusual in Spain, in that it is correctly oriented towards Mecca.   Most of the mosques took over an early Christian church, so they aren't, but this one was built from scratch.

Ruins of the mosque

After the visit we continued into Cordoba, to the hotel, which is on the banks of the Guadalquivir, just near the Roman bridge and opposite the great mosque. We had a very quiet evening, but got up early as the great mosque is open early and tour groups aren't allowed until ten a.m.

Breakfast was really good, except that, just as he finished off with a slice of chocolate cake, Phil lost a crown. The hotel reception staff were very helpful and pointed us towards a dentist only a hundred yards away, but of course he would not be open until much later. So off we went to the Great Mosque.

We walked across the Roman Bridge; the Guadalquivir river is big and has plenty of water in it, at present anyway. What happens later in the summer I can't presumed to say. There are ruined watermills and a nuria, or Arab water  lifting wheel, like we saw in Hamas in Syria, but it's not working. Actually, I think it was originally Byzantine engineering. The guard house at this end of the bridge has Arab gates, converted to renaissance style.

The Roman bridge

The nuria

The mosque is amazing. Apparently the original part was built by reusing Roman columns, and to get the height, the architect stacked a square block on each round  column. It was begun in 756, when Abd ar-Rahman I made the Christians an offer they could not refuse  for the Visigothic cathedral, and then it was extended several times, but always in the same style, of alternating brick and stone arches to give a distinctive red and white stripe. In the end there were  1293 columns. 

You go in from the Patio de los Naranjos,which was the ablution court. From here the mosque was completely open - there were nineteen arches, all but one now blocked off. The yard is full of hurtling swifts, which nest in the stonework. If they get chucked out, do you think they could be rehomed on the roof of our flats in Nottingham? They gladden my heart, I'd just love to offer them a home.

It was lovely and quiet, and although I missed the natural light that a mosque should have, it is a wonderful atmosphere. The place appears endless, like a forest. The mihrab, and the maksura on either side, where the emir and his companions worshipped, are gloriously decorated, by Byzantine mosaic artists. The Byzantine emperor also sent 1600 kilos of gold mosaic pieces to al-Hakam II, who wished to match the mosaics in the courtyard of the Ummayad mosque at Damascus.  There, they represent the gardens of paradise; here they are more stylized foliage and calligraphic patterns.

The mihrab

Ceiling of the mihrab

The maksuras on either side of the mihrab. 

Maksura

Sadly, in 1523, Charles V finally let the bishop and cathedral chapter stick to "proper" cathedral in the middle of all this peace and harmony. It's awful. I often find Catholic cathedrals  quite hard to take, and this one is so horribly out of place and contrasts so violently with the mosque that it's just appalling. I do not want to put you off, though; the place is so big you can largely keep your back to the cathedral bit.

Mind you, I found the Islamisation of Aghia Sofia in Constantinople just as upsetting. You have something perfect, absolutely perfect of its kind, and as it's not your kind, you have to deface it. Like blowing up the Bamiyan Bhuddhas.

So then we returned and Phil went to the dentist, who spoke French, so they could communicate. He stuck the crown back on, so it should see out our holiday. There are posters advertising dental implants for 500 euros "todo", so perhaps we could come back and pay for the holiday by having an implant here, instead of at home.

I went to the swimming pool on the roof and swam, and lazed, and read, and was very happy!