Kalpana Sunder visits the Spanish town of Segovia in the Iberian Peninsula, a region that boasts of a functioning Roman Aqueduct and the 'Sleeping Beauty' castle.
It's my 'Rapunzel' moment...I am standing on lush, manicured lawns right under a honey-coloured castle watching youngsters playing a boisterous game of football. The sweeping turrets and the spires of the picture-perfect medieval fortress soar to the blue skies high above.
I am lost in thoughts of knights in full gallop and princesses in regal gowns with long flowing hair. They say that the Alcazar in Segovia, Spain was one of the inspirations for Walt Disney's logo. I am on the Cholesterol Route, a pleasant work-out amidst green woodlands and trail below the castle, which is popular with the locals.
Segovia has a spectacular geographical position, on top of a narrow rocky ledge shaped like a 'stone boat' with the backdrop of the snowy peaks of Sierra de Guadarrama.
The city became rich with the wool boom of the 15th Century and a lot of its wealth went into funding its gorgeous architecture. There's something surreal about seeing a stately first century Roman Aqueduct made from 20,000 slabs of granite with 118 arches, in the midst of modern civilisation.
Emperor Trajan's engineers built the aqueduct to transport water from a distant stream to the city, covering a distance of over 17 km, which actually worked till the 19th century.
Senior citizens walk their dogs nonchalantly, cars are parked carelessly below the arches and students walk past without a glance, with the confidence of having lived most of their life in the midst of history. Close to the aqueduct, a merry-go-around with hot air balloons and airplanes for seats, swishes past with excited children hanging on for dear life.
I puff up the stairway from the base of the aqueduct for a close-up view of this masterpiece. Flocks of swallows fly overhead and storks nestle in the tops of bell towers in the distance.
Our guide, Mariano, tells us that the aqueduct has survived earthquakes, hurricanes and wars and still stands tall as if to say, "Here I am — a great survivor!" "The aqueduct not only brought water to Segovia, but also tourists," he quips.
The aqueduct is a product of great Roman engineering — it was made with just stones piled on top of each other, carried by giant hooks, with no mortar or cement to bind them together.
"You can touch it, but please don't push it!" Mariano cautions us.
Remnants of time gone past.From the aqueduct, we wind our way into the heart of the city. We zigzag through narrow cobbled streets with buildings decorated with patterned plasterwork called esgrafiado and leafy squares with open-air cafes. It's the last day of the local Puppet Festival and we see stalls with brightly coloured puppets in myriad shapes. Our guide points out bronze plaques inserted into the pavement, marking the spots where the ancient aqueduct's pipes run below us.
Many of the historical buildings have morphed into different avatars — there's a jail that has been converted into a public library and a convent which used to be a synagogue. The former royal mint has been restored and converted into a cultural centre.
The town is full of shops selling local pottery, exquisite embroidery and textiles. Plaza Mayor, the main sun-dappled square, has the cathedral at one end and a motley lot of historical buildings on the other.
I walk through the open-air market with stalls selling luscious fruits, vegetables and tacky souvenirs. Stodgy matrons sell lacy mantillas and buckets of pickled olives. The cathedral with its prickly spires built over 200 years, with its many chapels (rich families used to own them) and Flemish tapestries, is flamboyant Goth at its best.
Not satisfied with seeing the Alcazar from outside, I take a tour of its interiors. This was the scene of intrigues, adventure and rich history. It was home to Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand, who financed Christopher Columbus's historic journey. Much of the castle was destroyed by a great fire in 1862 and had to be rebuilt.
I am enraptured by the cannonballs, shiny knights of armour, a royal bedroom with a canopy bed and amazing ceilings made of gilded wood, stained glass and murals.
From the windows of the fortress, I see the burnt umber landscape with patches of green woodlands and the famous church of Vera Cruz, which was supposed to have been built by the Knight Templars in the 10th century, to house a piece of the actual cross on which Jesus was crucified.
As the warm afternoon melts into a cool evening, we step into the local restaurant Casa Duque, famous for its signature cochinillo asado — roast suckling pig.
With painted ceilings, copper saucepans slung on walls, culinary awards, ceramic plates and pictures of famous people who have dined here, this is an atmospheric restaurant. Suckling pigs are baby pigs that feast on mother's milk for 21 days and then find their way to a special oven where they are roasted with lard, water and salt, till their skin turns crisp. The roast pig becomes so tender that it's cut with a ceramic plate.
We watch the bizarre ceremony when the baby pig with its snout peeping from the dish is chopped with the edge of a dinner plate and the plate is broken on the floor. I feast on the local broad beans called judiones dela granja and a soup with eggs, bread and garlic with copious glasses of zesty sangria.
The highlight of the meal is the ponche segoviano — a delicious dessert made of several layers of cake, marzipan and egg-yolk cream with a melt-in-the-mouth consistency. Post dinner, we walk under the arches of the aqueduct which cast magical shadows, and I am transported to the days of yore. My feet are sore from the cobblestones, but my heart
runneth over!
It's my 'Rapunzel' moment...I am standing on lush, manicured lawns right under a honey-coloured castle watching youngsters playing a boisterous game of football. The sweeping turrets and the spires of the picture-perfect medieval fortress soar to the blue skies high above.
I am lost in thoughts of knights in full gallop and princesses in regal gowns with long flowing hair. They say that the Alcazar in Segovia, Spain was one of the inspirations for Walt Disney's logo. I am on the Cholesterol Route, a pleasant work-out amidst green woodlands and trail below the castle, which is popular with the locals.
Segovia has a spectacular geographical position, on top of a narrow rocky ledge shaped like a 'stone boat' with the backdrop of the snowy peaks of Sierra de Guadarrama.
The city became rich with the wool boom of the 15th Century and a lot of its wealth went into funding its gorgeous architecture. There's something surreal about seeing a stately first century Roman Aqueduct made from 20,000 slabs of granite with 118 arches, in the midst of modern civilisation.
Emperor Trajan's engineers built the aqueduct to transport water from a distant stream to the city, covering a distance of over 17 km, which actually worked till the 19th century.
Senior citizens walk their dogs nonchalantly, cars are parked carelessly below the arches and students walk past without a glance, with the confidence of having lived most of their life in the midst of history. Close to the aqueduct, a merry-go-around with hot air balloons and airplanes for seats, swishes past with excited children hanging on for dear life.
I puff up the stairway from the base of the aqueduct for a close-up view of this masterpiece. Flocks of swallows fly overhead and storks nestle in the tops of bell towers in the distance.
Our guide, Mariano, tells us that the aqueduct has survived earthquakes, hurricanes and wars and still stands tall as if to say, "Here I am — a great survivor!" "The aqueduct not only brought water to Segovia, but also tourists," he quips.
The aqueduct is a product of great Roman engineering — it was made with just stones piled on top of each other, carried by giant hooks, with no mortar or cement to bind them together.
"You can touch it, but please don't push it!" Mariano cautions us.
Remnants of time gone past.From the aqueduct, we wind our way into the heart of the city. We zigzag through narrow cobbled streets with buildings decorated with patterned plasterwork called esgrafiado and leafy squares with open-air cafes. It's the last day of the local Puppet Festival and we see stalls with brightly coloured puppets in myriad shapes. Our guide points out bronze plaques inserted into the pavement, marking the spots where the ancient aqueduct's pipes run below us.
Many of the historical buildings have morphed into different avatars — there's a jail that has been converted into a public library and a convent which used to be a synagogue. The former royal mint has been restored and converted into a cultural centre.
The town is full of shops selling local pottery, exquisite embroidery and textiles. Plaza Mayor, the main sun-dappled square, has the cathedral at one end and a motley lot of historical buildings on the other.
I walk through the open-air market with stalls selling luscious fruits, vegetables and tacky souvenirs. Stodgy matrons sell lacy mantillas and buckets of pickled olives. The cathedral with its prickly spires built over 200 years, with its many chapels (rich families used to own them) and Flemish tapestries, is flamboyant Goth at its best.
Not satisfied with seeing the Alcazar from outside, I take a tour of its interiors. This was the scene of intrigues, adventure and rich history. It was home to Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand, who financed Christopher Columbus's historic journey. Much of the castle was destroyed by a great fire in 1862 and had to be rebuilt.
I am enraptured by the cannonballs, shiny knights of armour, a royal bedroom with a canopy bed and amazing ceilings made of gilded wood, stained glass and murals.
From the windows of the fortress, I see the burnt umber landscape with patches of green woodlands and the famous church of Vera Cruz, which was supposed to have been built by the Knight Templars in the 10th century, to house a piece of the actual cross on which Jesus was crucified.
As the warm afternoon melts into a cool evening, we step into the local restaurant Casa Duque, famous for its signature cochinillo asado — roast suckling pig.
With painted ceilings, copper saucepans slung on walls, culinary awards, ceramic plates and pictures of famous people who have dined here, this is an atmospheric restaurant. Suckling pigs are baby pigs that feast on mother's milk for 21 days and then find their way to a special oven where they are roasted with lard, water and salt, till their skin turns crisp. The roast pig becomes so tender that it's cut with a ceramic plate.
We watch the bizarre ceremony when the baby pig with its snout peeping from the dish is chopped with the edge of a dinner plate and the plate is broken on the floor. I feast on the local broad beans called judiones dela granja and a soup with eggs, bread and garlic with copious glasses of zesty sangria.
The highlight of the meal is the ponche segoviano — a delicious dessert made of several layers of cake, marzipan and egg-yolk cream with a melt-in-the-mouth consistency. Post dinner, we walk under the arches of the aqueduct which cast magical shadows, and I am transported to the days of yore. My feet are sore from the cobblestones, but my heart
runneth over!