The interior is much more colorful, and chock full of famous artwork. The king established a world famous library at the complex, for use by the monks that lived there. It was supposed to be something like a research center against Protestantism, collecting all sorts of ancient religious volumes for the monks to use in their research. It fell into disuse shortly after construction however, as subsequent generations of monks were illiterate, but is now the most popular part of the complex. By the way, a big chunk of the palace is still used as a monastery, convent and school so much of it is off limits. Which is a good thing because what's left is pretty tiring.



I thought the most interesting part of the palace was the king's quarters, a couple of plain white rooms tacked onto the basilica. He didn't age well, and for much of his life was afflicted with a disease that rotted his body and caused him too smell so bad that nobody could approach him. So he stayed by himself in his room,with a window overlooking the basilica where he could hear the church services being conducted around the clock, every day of the year.

The complex was built as an enormous grid, with a huge amount of numerology and related fake science governing the building's construction. The grid pattern was supposed to be patterned after the long-lost Temple of Solomon in Jerusalem, as well as the griddle on which his favorite saint, Saint Lawrence, was roasted by the Romans. But there are all sorts of rules governing the number of windows, staircases, rooms, courtyards etc that you will learn in numbing detail on a guided tour.



We decided to skip the tour and explore for ourselves, which is a good idea, but the downside is that the place is absolutely massive and mazelike, and I'm sure we missed about half of it.



Construction started in 1564 and finished about twenty years later, in time for the king to receive the news that his famous navy, the Armada, was completely wiped out in his ill advised attempted invasion of England. Unlike the other palaces littered around Europe, this was always designed by the monklike king to be primarily a religious complex that happens to house the king and the advisors governing, or attempting to govern, most of Europe. This accounts for the austere architecture of the exterior, which complements the bleak surroundings.

114. El Escorial

On Friday the three musketeers (Brian, Somchai and Jose) headed west to Avila province, stopping first at El Escorial. Escorial is Spanish for slag heap, as the incredibly huge building was built on a slag heap (leftover crap from iron mining) in a desolate stretch of terrain. The location, and every other detail of the immense project, was chosen by King Felipe II, at the time the richest and most powerful man in the world. And why did he choose such a horrible location? Because he was crazy in a religious nut sort of way. He was king of Spain and Portugal, the Holy Roman Emperor controlling most of Germany, and the Emperor of Austria and occupied Holland, Belgium and Latin America. He ruled this vast empire from this spookily austere complex in the middle of nowhere. It took a couple decades to build, and was conceived as a palace, monastery, convent and religious school all wrapped up in one. Any money left over from building this place went to his perpetual wars conducted in his singlehanded attempt to wipe out Protestantism throughout Europe, which ended up being a gigantic waste of life and money.

We had dinner at a restaurant near the hotel, the Balzac. It's supposedly a celebrity magnet, but as far as we could tell we were there on an off night. (Then again, our knowledge of Spanish celebrities doesn't extend much beyond Antonio Banderas and Penelope Cruz). It was a very handsome room, the best of our Madrid restaurants, and food was consistently high quality, though not particularly adventurous. My main course of pigeon and foie gras was particularly good, surprising because I usually find pigeon too gamey. Service was competent and friendly. (Food-16, Decor-17, Service-18).

We then walked around the town's quaint streets, which were appropriately cobbled and lined with uniformly well maintained stone buildings. Many of these had been converted into decidedly upscale inns and antique shops, making the town a real pleasure to walk around. Unfortunately we arrived at closing time so all we could really do is walk around, then we headed back to our car (pictured here through the arch) and drive back to Madrid.

Supposedly the town's center doubled as a bullring, as in Penafiel, but this one looked far too ornate and twee for this to be true. Most of the houses surrounding the plaza have been converted into shops and restaurants, and it was clear that the town knew how to capitalize on its charms.

113. Pedraza

Pedraza was the prettiest town we visited, so we accidentally saved the best for last. The town has maintained its medieval town center through a tough set of defences, including an attractive set of walls and a not very attractive wreck of a castle. The castle is still owned by the local nobility, and at the time we visited it looked to be under renovation, so by now it may look more impressive. But when we were there it looked like it would collapse if we touched it.

We lost the driver (unintentionally this time) so spent some time admiring the view, then heading into the workaday pub, where we had a beer and watched some Spanish soap operas while we waited for Jose to find us, then we headed out for our last stop of the day, Pedraza.

The town center doubles as the town parking lot, and the surrounding buildings give the (wrong) impression that the town is a prosperous business center. Away from the center, however, activity levels and building heights drop off considerably, although it never sinks into the coma of Penafiel. The town's church, pictured here, was built around the year 1000 and has the distinction of being the first Romanesque church in the province. That distinction wasn't sufficient to get us up the stairs to the church, though, so the photo is as close as we got.

112. Sepulveda

We continued driving through increasingly green and mountainous scenery, stopping at the hilltop town of Sepulveda. This is another sleepy town with nothing in particular to see, but what it lacks in castles it makes up for in views. The town's main street lines the ridge on the hill, with other streets dribbling down the hillside.

The town is quite small and, as you already know, completely empty. It didn't particularly stand out until we arrived at the Plaza del Coso, a huge, sandfilled square in the middle of town surrounded by a hodgepodge of balconied wooden houses. This square doubled as the town center and bullring (although not simultaneously). One very strange arrangement here is that, several centuries ago, the occupants of these homes sold the rights to viewing the bullfights while keeping their homes as a way to raise money. So on days when there are bullfights, the current owners of these rights occupy the balconies and windows overlooking the ring, while the homeowners are relegated to the back of the house, which I have to imagine caused some friction over the years.

We went into town for lunch, which was easier said than done. We appeared to be the only people in the town, and we walked around looking for any hint of life, that may lead to food. Finally we passed a restaurant, or at least a house with the word restaurant on it. We opened the door, and entered an empty room with a bar. We kept walking around and wandered downstairs into the basement, which appeared to be a wine cellar, full of barrels of wine. Here we found some tables and a waiter, who welcomed us, then left us at the table. We waited for quite a while for menus, but this restaurant skips that step since they only offer one type of food and one type of drink. As we learned, penafiel is famous for its suckling lamb as well as its wine, and there are a half dozen of these subterranean restaurants in town, all serving the same thing. The meat is a baby lamb, less than a month old, roasted in a slow cooking oven for many hours, resulting in a big hunk of meat you eat with a spoon because it's so soft, and wash down with a bottle of the house red. And that's it, no starters, sides or desserts, but Somchai was in heaven.

The castle is well worth a look for its unique architecture, which many people have noticed looks like a boat marooned on top of a hill. It's also got great views over the lush surrounding hills and the historical town below. The one big drawback is that the castle now houses a museum of wine. Ordinarily I'm a big fan of all things wine related, but this museum is quite dull, and you have to go on a long, guided tour of the museum to see any of the castle. The town actually deserves a much higher wine profile, because it's at the center of the Ribera del Duero wine region, which produces some of Spain's most prestigious wine.

111. Penafiel

Next we spent a fair amount of time in Penafiel (the n should have a tilda, that squiggly thing, on top of it, but I don't know how to type that on my Anglo keyboard). It's in a fairly attractive corner of Segovia province, hillier and greener than most of the area surrounding Madrid. The town is dominated by the deceptively awesome castle lining the hill above town. I say deceptive because the castle was built to fit the shape of the narrow ridge, ie very long and very narrow. The castle has been owned for many centuries by the Marquis of Penafiel, whose family still owns it

Unlike Medina del Campo, Cuellar managed to hold onto a fair slice of its historical center. There are a number of Mudejar churches around town and the city is still surrounded by its (fairly uninteresting) walls, but overall the town looks a bit ragged, so we didn't spend much time exploring here.

110. Cuellar

Next stop was another medieval market town, Cuellar. It was a prosperous wool trading town in the middle ages, and was given by the king to the Duke of Albequerque as a birthday present. The Duke built the castle to safeguard his present, although he eventually lost both the castle and the town. The castle was used as a prison, a mental hospital and now a cheery girls' school, and since school was in session we couldn't really explore much of the castle.

109. Medina del Campo

Thursday was a very car-intensive day, exploring the little known sights of Segovia province. The city of Segovia, about ninety minutes north of Madrid, is a very popular day trip from Madrid, but the rest of the province is more or less neglected. Our first stop was Medina del Campo, an ugly market town that would make a good candidate for hosting the Spanish version of The Office. But unlike Slough or Scranton, this town was actually an historical powerhouse. During the middle ages it hosted Europe's main trading fair, when merchants and bankers from all over Europe flocked to do deals. The town and the market were wiped out a couple of times, and the current town is completely lacking in character. It has only one remnant of its history, this castle of La Mota. It was one of several castles owned by the powerful, and much hated, Fonseca family, until they were thrown out by the townspeople in the fifteenth century. The castle was then used as a prison and a school and now just sort of sits there. It's a quintessential castle, but stuck in a patch of green surrounded by the modern town, so the location sort of ruins the mytique.

One advantage of using Madrid as a base and making daytrips to surrounding places is that you can have dinner at great restaurants every night, rather than being stuck in a town like Toledo where you have to eat partridge all day. Tonight's dinner was at El Chaflan, in the far north of Madrid. Spanish food is at the forefront of the new wave of "molecular gastronomy", where food is run through a science lab and transformed into foams and gels and served in weird ways with complicated instructions. This movement was started by a restaurant outside Barcelona, El Bulli, which is regularly rated among the top few restauarants in the world. When we were in Spain, almost every restaurant was affected by this trend in some way, and El Chaflan was a major proponent of this in Madrid. The room itself was attractive, minimalist decor with a big open kitchen dominating the space. Service was prompt, but sullen and robotic, which was somewhat depressing since as usual we were the only customers. I say as usual because of the Spanish habit of eating exceedingly late, and the jetlagged tourist habit of eating early. Actually we aimed for 8 or 9 pm every night but it was several hours too early for most restaurants, which is a tough adjustment. Anyway, back to the food, it was excellent, and, for better or worse, nowhere near as strange as I'd hoped. Best dish of the night was a strangely spiced lamb and couscous dish, and lots of seafood that was uniformly tasty. The strangest dish of the night, and also one of my favorites, was the beef ice cream with lettuce sauce. (Food: 19, Decor: 15, Service: 10)