El Escorial Palace

This huge complex was conceived by the reigning monarch King Phillip II as a thanksgiving gesture for his victory over the French in 1557 at the battle of St Quentin. The battle took place on St Lawrence’s day, so the building was designed in the shape of a gridiron over which St Lawrence was reputedly martyred by roasting.

The construction took place between 1563 and 1584 and was to fulfil several functions. The first was to be a palace for the king and his royal household. Then it was to be a tomb for his father Charles V, and also to be a monastery that would occupy the most floor space.

The approach from the lower town shows a large but pleasing design.

From the side it presents a much more austere picture, helped of course by a dull day.

Once inside, we see why it was a royal palace. During the 16^th century treasure from the New World was pouring into Spain and it was spent on buildings such as this. The library here contains immeasurably valuable 16^th century books, paintings and early scientific objects. Photos not allowed inside so I’ve used some of the audio/visual guide pics.

The basilica has the dimensions of a cathedral, with a 30 metre high magnificent altarpiece containing numerous works of art.

Philip was intensely religious and his simple bedroom had an internal window that allowed him to look directly at this altar from his bed.

Another remarkable room is the hall of battles, illustrated with scenes from Philip’s victories. The whole of the left-hand wall features, unsurprisingly, the battle of St Quentin that inspired Philip to build El Escorial.

The fine detail is remarkable, an example of which is below.

It’s usually difficult to place foreign monarchs in some connection with UK history, but Phillip II is different. We know him: in 1588 this guy sent the Spanish Armada to conquer England, and we all know it was defeated by Sir Francis Drake with some help from a storm. You might guess this doesn’t figure in the Hall of Battles!

The audio guide moves us on to the Pantheon of the Princes: all the royals that died young. Each tomb is in white marble and delicately carved. This rotunda is only a small part and the most intricate, like a sad wedding cake.

Following on comes the Pantheon of the Kings, 26 royal Spanish tombs are stored in this unbelievable splendour.

We find the rooms and exhibits from the time of Phillip II the most interesting. He has another connection to the UK: his second wife (4 altogether) was Queen Mary, the daughter of Henry VIII and Catherine of Aragon. She was the Mary of the “Mary, Mary, quite contrary” nursey rhyme and was generally unpopular in England for her draconian reintroduction of Catholicism in her reign.

Later monarchs altered the decorative style to the tastes of their times. The most distinctive were the Bourbons who ruled Spain during the 18^th and 19^th centuries. This is a selection of their new opulence as shown in the next photos. First, the Dining Room.

Queen’s Audience Room.

Music Room. Clearly, yellow is the in colour.

There are numerous works of art on the walls, tapestries, furniture and artefacts, all of immense value. It’s an overwhelming amount to take in, and only a part of the building is open to the public. But now we’ll leave the edifice and take a quick look at the town of El Escorial.

It’s pleasant but nothing great, having sprung up after the creation of the great palace. It’s full of restaurants to cater for the tourists and has a few nice squares like this one. 

Some leafy avenues.

.Our campsite is only 2 miles down the road. The El Escorial building was an amazing place, but cups of tea are urgently required to recover from the experience overload.

The Valley of the Fallen

The monument, known as “El Valle de los Caidos” in Spain, was constructed by Franco not long after the end of the Spanish Civil War. He said it was meant to be a national act of atonement and reconciliation for the lives lost in the war.

It is located about 30 miles north of Madrid, and only a few of minutes from our campsite. We pay the small entrance fee at the main road and drive the 4 miles up to the car park. First observation is that it’s clearly not a valley: we’re 3,000 feet up near the top of a hill! On the hill summit, noticeable for miles around, is a 500 foot cross, the tallest commemorative cross in the world.

We follow a path around the rocks to the basilica, a huge Catholic church hewn out of solid rock under the cross. Before entering, we take in the scale of the external edifice and its stark grandeur. It is the style known as international classicism that was also favoured by other dictators of Franco’s era.

 Just to appreciate the size of it, that’s Jane stood by one of the columns.

Over the door is a Pietà, based on Michelangelo’s in the St Peter’s, Rome, but here Mary looks more like the Grim Reaper from a distance.

We step inside. It’s vast; the excavated dimensions are larger than St Peter’s but to avoid any conflict a large unconsecrated area was partitioned off at the entrance. It took over 18 years to build and according to some sources employed some forced and prison labour. No photos allowed inside so the next few pictures are sourced from the internet.

The following photo is the altar, just visible at the far end in the above picture.

The remains of 40,000 Civil War victims of both sides are interred in the monument. In fact, the only person buried here that did not die in the war is Franco himself. His tomb is the other side of the altar cross in the previous photo. Although the Catholic rules allow him to be buried here because he promoted the construction of the building, public outcry has resulted in his imminent reburial in Madrid this June.

A most imposing but rather severe impression was left by the basilica. However, there were gentler places like this garden.

We’re not done yet! There’s a monastery, too, built in the same style. The cloisters have that same powerful military look, something the Templars would have been comfortable with.

The monastery buildings on the far side of the square seem less dominating. Perhaps it’s the forest background.

The monastery is positioned on the other side of the hill hollowed out for the basilica and, it would appear from the door in the photo, it punches right through. That cross looks even more imposing from this side, if that’s at all possible.

There is no doubt that the Valley has immense presence, but it has been the centre of controversy since Franco’s death in 1975 as more representing Franco’s victory than an even-handed memorial to the loss of life during the Civil War (1936-39).

A thoroughly interesting experience.

Out and About

Not all activities merit a separate blog so this final entry is a hotch-potch of things we’ve done that are hopefully worth a few words and photos.

To start with, the amazing wind-blown sandstone shapes of Bol Nuevo. Two photos of these natural sculptures follow, with people in for scale. The meerkat head shape just to the right of centre on the skyline has a crack on its “neck” so could topple soon a strong wind.

Bol Nuevo beach is also worth a picture as it’s wide and sandy: lovely for families. There’s also a campsite right on the beach. So why aren’t we staying there? Answer: small pitches and little privacy.

We often mention the town of Mazarron, but it’s actually two places separated by 5 miles of open country. There’s Mazarron town, and Mazarron  port. The port is closest to our campsite and contains the best shopping anyway. It’s also got some great bays, for example:

The port has a huge Sunday market. I can’t claim to be a fan of markets but this market has the best churros ever. These are deep-fried flour based savouries. This is what they look like, in the pack on the table.

Mazarron town isn’t that exciting, just another Spanish town, but there are some nice views looking at the town in its setting.

But how do you get nice views on a walk on a drizzly day? Surprisingly, some did pass muster. Changing this snap to monochrome seemed to reflect the day really appropriately.

The zig-zag path to then descend to sea level was interesting- bear in mind this was used as a vehicular road.

The last one dull day photo: the military road, connecting the gun batteries with a landing stage where supplies were brought in. The road finishes about 10 metres above sea level and there’s no sign of a jetty. Either it’s been washed away or they’d be waiting for a high tide of tsunami proportions!

From drizzle to torrential rain over Easter. This is the kind of sky we saw between deluges.

The aftermath of the storms saw great channels gouged out of the earth, gravel and dirt roads.

Occasionally you look at something and wonder. Why would you put a pedestrian crossing from a pavement on one side straight into a wall? Rudi’s nipping along before he’s crushed by a passing vehicle- and it’s a busy road.

We’re on the move in a few days to El Escorial north of Madrid. A most enjoyable time spent here as usual. More blogs to follow.

The Mines of Mazarron

Mining in this region has a long history stretching back to the Phoenicians in the 3^rd century BC. It was afterwards an important mining area for the Romans. Documentary evidence of mining operations in Mazarron dates from 1587. By 1840 there were more than 200 shafts here with production peaking between the 1860’s and 1940’s. Mining ceased in 1969.

That’s a tiny potted history. When the mining companies packed up in 1969 they took the contents and equipment of value and left all the rest, now at least 50 years old and falling steadily into decay.

We’re here not to try and explain how it all operated – and impossible task for us- but to marvel at the scale of it all and the colours of the spoil heaps and standing water that reflect the different minerals mined here: lead, zinc, silver, copper & iron. The rough entrance road gives an idea of what’s on offer, with the spoil heaps to the right of the road.

The road soon leads us to a group of partially ruined buildings looking like an abandoned village, which in a way it is.

 This structure could be mistaken for an ancient temple.

Hazards to watch out for are pits. The one below is about 10 metres deep and has an attractive yellow sludge in the bottom.

Now here’s a bit of mining kit we all recognise- a pit head. You need to watch out as it’s falling to pieces. The shaft is still there although partially blocked.

And this complex is like a medieval castle film set.

With a bastion wall.

Here’s the incredible changing puddle. From this angle it’s definitely red, against a striking backdrop of shades of yellow.

From another angle it’s now purple.

On a hill lies a ruin that’s a squared-off Stonehenge lookalike. Perhaps mining here has a longer heritage than we thought!

But we keep coming back to the huge spoil heaps. These are so colourful, and a suitable place to end our visit.

Bullas and Wine

Our friends Jan and Marjon who live here permanently are taking us to Bullas, a town that lends its name to one of the three Denominación de Origen (DO) wine regions in Murcia. This is the equivalent of the French Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée (AOC) and is meant to signify wines of superior quality, i.e. those you don’t clean your paint brushes in.

We’re visiting Bullas to check out its wine heritage, and start at the Tourist Information Office that is also the wine museum. When we arrive, there’s a power cut in progress and much apologising from the information desk as we can’t therefore do the museum tour. But luck is with us and electricity is restored even as the info lady is apologising.

The tour starts with a presentation of the Bullas DO region and its natural suitability for producing high quality wine. A film in an adjacent room shows mystic wine-associated images from the region. Bullas produced everyday wine until the 1980’s when new wineries with modern equipment justified the DO status in 1994.

The real meat of the museum is downstairs in the original early 19^th century cellars of the Melgares de Aguilar family. We descend.

A display shows artefacts connected with wine culture in past ages, including the iconic Roman statue of the “Child of the Grapes” visible in the above photo. However, the displays are mainly geared to showing how wine was produced when the cellar was functioning as part of the winery, and this is the most interesting part.

First job: pick the grapes. Then transport them to the floor above the cellar where they are crushed, originally by treading and pressing but latterly done mechanically. The grape juice then ran down pipes through the upstairs floor into channels in the cellar and was distributed into earthenware jars set in the cellar floor. The example below uses water.

There were 112 of these earthenware jars laid out as in the next photo giving the huge total capacity of 350,000 litres.

Finally, after 4 months fermentation, the wine was manually pumped out, some into oak casks that would give it a distinctive flavour.

After the museum we go the house of Don Pepe Marsilla in another part of town. This family owned the museum winery. The house dates from 1723, but was extensively updated in 1900 by Don Jose Marsilla. The house is preserved in its 1900 format with original décor and period (but not original) furnishings.

A guide takes us from the museum to the house which he unlocks especially for us; thereafter he hands over to the hi-tech installed guide system where the imagined voice of Don Blas Marsilla, Don Jose’s son, or the maid’s voice, describes each room and aspects of their lifestyle. They speak in beautiful Oxford English. We start in the study with Don Blas.

As the voice is pointing out features in the room, the lights dim and brighten to highlight those features. All very sophisticated, but it gives us photographers a problem because no sooner have you pointed the camera to take a shot when the lights go out. So the picture above looks like Don Blas needs to put another peseta (the currency at the time) in the meter.

The 1900 refurbishment owes much to the Modernist movement in Spain of that time. This corresponds to Art Nouveau elsewhere in Europe. The hall and staircase are an example.

However, the main bedroom still retains that heavy furniture look that could almost be Medieval. Hope the large cross hanging over his head is well secured to the wall.

The dining room is traditional with a highly decorated (modernist?) ceiling, barely visible in the photo. It is noticeable that, although the house is extensive, the rooms themselves are all quite small.

The most remarkable feature of the house for me was the flooring which I could relate to Art Nouveau I’d come across. Please note that I beat the light dimmer in this photo!

The house kitchen again wasn’t that grand or spacious, but a bit bigger than our caravan kitchen.

Back to the vino. The house had its own winery with a full-size wine press and the same earthenware jar fermenting arrangement as in the museum cellar.

There were racks of original drinking utensils, and basket and rope woven items. This next photo shows how they made rope-soled shoes. We’d call them espadrilles. The loose rope is on the floor, coiled up on the table and then shaped into a shoe sole. The canvas upper is stitched on and- bingo- a shoe for the servants or workers.

The commentary was at pains to describe the house servants as well looked after and happy. It seems that Don Jose’s son, Don Blas, was especially keen on employees’ welfare. This would be well above average treatment from  landowners of that day as Spain retained a basically medieval land ownership, i.e. in the hands of the gentry, that had never been modified by an industrial revolution, so many workers on the land were little more than serfs. This subsistence poverty drove Spanish workers increasingly towards left-wing politics which finally erupted in the Civil War of 1936.

The day opened a window into Spanish life Jane and I knew little about, and a lifestyle very different from the Costa economy we are familiar with. Thanks for a very interesting trip.