Saturday I practiced my capacity to be alone by going to San Lorenzo de El Escorial. My LDS family had other errands to do, and so I thought I would go on this journey by myself. I did bring Rick Steves along with me, but purely for point of conversation I was alone.
At about 1 p.m. (it was really late to start a day trip, I know), I hopped on the Metro, switched trains at Sainz de Baranda, and rode all the way to the Moncloa station. Finding the 664 bus to El Escorial was a breeze - I almost happed upon it by accident (quay 11, 1st platform of the bus station). On my way to Moncloa, I had thought it might be easier to go to El Pardo, which was Franco's summer palace, instead of El Escorial because it's closer. However, I changed my mind because the 664 bus was right there and leaving in another 10 minutes. It seemed as if the bus were pulling me toward it, inviting me to take the journey.
A pleasant 50 minutes later, I was hopping off the bus and hoping to catch the 3:15 bus to Valle de los Caidos (Valley of the Fallen). You may know it for its gigantic cross towering into the sky, under which is a big basilica. It is where Franco's remains are kept, and the basilica looked really pretty in my guide book. However, the Valley was closed. Due to no fault of my own, I was not able to see it.
I did, however, make it to the monastery, which is huge and beautiful. San Lorenzo/El Escorial is a pretty small town, and it's difficult to get lost. It is quaint in the same way all European towns are: swept cobbled streets, wrought-iron balcony railings, street lamps, planter boxes. This was Spanish, so things were a little more crowded and a little louder than France or Germany. Then all of a sudden on your left you see a big dome that could easily crush the houses around it.
Welcome to the monastery.
The monastery plaza was huge, with big flat flagstones paving the central plaza. If the day had been any warmer, it would have been unpleasant with all that rock and sun. As it were, the day was lovely and I proceeded into El Escorial just fine. The guards at the coat-check were incredibly nice, and when I didn't understand what a consigna was, the guard pointed down the hall and said with a smile, "The cloakroom is just over there." At the ticket counter, I tried to ask for one unguided tour, but the man was really nice and asked if I wanted to speak English. Did I! He told me that today was free, and he pushed a little yellow sticker through the window, along with a ticket. Whoo, free entrance!
I wandered over to the architecture museum, where I saw lots and lots of drawings and models of El Escorial. Great. It went on unnecessarily long, and then I found myself in a series of painting galleries filled with religious themes. Felipe II had built up El Escorial, and he and his wife (?) had their own rooms at the monastery. Most of the rooms have been converted to displaying Felipe II's extensive collection of religious works - walking through it, I thought that there are only so many ways you can paint the Penitence of St. Jeremy or the Nativity.
Now on to the good stuff: the tombs. The tombs were probably my favorite part of the experience. They charged me (3 euro) for going to see the ruler's chambers where Carlos V, Felipe II, Felipe III, etc are buried, but it was worth it. Walking down the red marble and jade steps, I felt like I was going into the vault of some very, very expensive hotel or bank. When I arrived in the chamber, it really felt like a tomb for royalty. There were bronze and gold fixtures everywhere, and there were 26 caskets, 23 of which held the remains of former rulers of Spain (although the only queens who were there were those whose sons became kings). It was strange to be in the presence of the remains of people who swayed nations and influenced the lives of millions of people. It didn't quite strike me at the time; it just seemed like hollow grandeur to me.
Next were the burial chambers of the royal family members. There were a lot of filled tombs - but then there were a lot that were empty. The most interesting to me was the mausoleum where they kept the remains of the children who died before they were eight and could have their first Communion. They were kept in a structure that Rick Steves adequately describes as a wedding cake:
The basilica was next on the list, which was thoroughly impressive the way all large Catholic cathedrals are. I love feeling dwarfed by buildings and spaces like that, and I was certainly dwarfed. Notably in the cathedral was the altarpiece. In the very center is San Lorenzo, for whom the area is named and the patron saint, who was martyred by the Romans via being grilled to death. He is reported to have said, "I'm done on this side, you can turn me over now." I thought that was amusing.
I may have more to say about El Escorial later, maybe not. But this post has gone on long enough.
Note: I was not allowed to take pictures in El Escorial, but I did buy postcards! (All the pictures which I am not in are actually postcard pictures; that's why they're so good.)
I AM SO JEALOUS OF YOU
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