City of Cordoba

From the 15th to the 16th of February I went to Cordoba, the last of the three most important Andalusian cities I had to see.  I had heard and read great things about it. Contrary to every tourist's preference of Granada, the father of my host family believes that Cordoba is Andalusia's most beautiful city.  In my history of Spain that I am attempting to read in Spanish, I found a fascination for the city as the capital of the Cordoba Caliphate and prosperous home of all faiths. 

Well, if only the weather would have had shown some sympathy for my excitement. It was pouring rain and windy the entire weekend without breaks. The picture below accurately represents what it was like.

I was extremely fortunate to have been invited by a friend to stay the night in her shared Erasmus apartment. I was given a fantastic tour of the city which, despite the rain, was beautiful.  The old town is incredibly charming and full of inviting cafes and teterias (the equivalent to a cafe but for tea).

As it began to rain harder we sought the shelter of the Mezquita, a cathedral built on top of a great mosque built on top of a chapel. It is with out a doubt one of the greatest achievements of Moorish architecture. The ubiquitous columns built with two connecting arches to support the enormous weight are a sight to behold. As are the attempts of the Catholic Church to convert it into a house of Christ, since the eviction of Mohammed in 1236.  The sides are full of chapels representing saints and scenes from the Bible, not to mention the huge Cathedral in the middle of it all. It is like being transported to an entirely different location.  Even Charles V, the guy who permitted the construction of the cathedral was appalled, "they have taken something unique in all the world and destroyed it to build something you can find in any city." Then again, it's bad publicity to leave your enemy's monument of power unchanged...

One of the many chapels surround the interior of the structure

The Sunday was quite tranquil - a combination of aching heads and inexorable rain. Once enthusiasm was aroused, we went to La Salmoreteca Mercado Victoria. It is an an indoor food market where you can choose from an international variety of food or small, high quality Spanish tapas. I kept it simple with a typical sandwich with jamón and olive oil, which is a simplicity which I am increasingly beginning to enjoy. 

Upon my arrival to Spain, I was amazed my hosts didn't have normal strawberry jam for toast. They did have a special variety of strawberry and onion jam which can be used for some cooked dishes, but certainly not for my toast. So I bought my own jam which stands in the fridge like a blonde, blue-eyed boy in a room full of dark-haired, jamón eating classmates. Nonetheless, I am increasingly like to eat a toast with nothing but olive oil poured on it which actually tastes marvelous.

The three hour journey back to Malaga was quite uncomfortable. The combination of the drinks from the previous night and the necessity to stop in every small village, driving on winding roads on which no bus should drive resulted in a rather unsettling trip for my stomach.