Magic Mushroom Retreats: The Psychedelic Side of Barcelona

Embark on a psilocybin-fueled spirit quest in Spain’s strangest city. But what should you expect? How do shrooms work?

Embark on a journey of self-discovery and healing at a magic mushroom retreat, (perhaps in Spain?), where guided experiences unlock the mind’s potential and foster profound personal growth.

Barcelona isn’t just your typical tourist hotspot with pretty sights and tasty tapas; it’s also an underground capital for those looking to flip their mental scripts with magic mushroom retreats. The city offers a variety of unique experiences, with one of the most transformative being retreats that harness the therapeutic benefits of psilocybin, the active compound in magic mushrooms. These retreats aim to provide a secure and supportive setting for participants to undergo profound personal development journeys.

“Word on the street (and in the hallowed halls of science) is that this mind-bending compound might just be the magic bullet for battling depression, anxiety and PTSD.”

Gaudí’s la Sagrada Família masterwork dominates the Barcelona skyline.

The Trip of a Lifetime

Enter the emerging world of magic mushroom retreats in Barcelona. Think of them as the love child of ancient shamanic rituals and cutting-edge neuroscience. It’s where you can unlock new dimensions of your consciousness with psilocybin. Guided by pros in the comfiest of settings, participants embark on a trip to explore the wilds of their consciousness that’s set up to be as safe as possible.

Psilocybin, a natural compound with psychoactive properties, is found in certain species of mushrooms.

What is psilocybin?

Simply put, it’s the “magic” in magic mushrooms that catapults you into profound psychological adventures. 

This naturally occurring compound is found in over 200 mushroom species that have been used for centuries in traditional spiritual and ceremonial practices. 

When ingested, psilocybin primarily interacts with serotonin receptors in the brain.

The intensity and nature of your trip can vary greatly depending on the dose, your psychology and the environment. 

As more and more scientists study psilocybin, the buzz is hitting a high. Word on the street (and in the hallowed halls of science) is that this mind-bending compound might just be the magic bullet for battling depression, anxiety and PTSD.

Consuming magic mushrooms can lead to vivid and profound changes in perception, emotions and thought patterns, often described as a journey through the depths of your consciousness.

What happens when you shroom?

When you eat magic mushrooms, it’s like your brain turns up the dial on reality to 11, making everything — from the colors around you to your innermost thoughts — more vivid, intense and sometimes downright bizarre. 

Here’s a bit of what you might expect:

Technicolor World: The world around you might suddenly seem crisper, more detailed and drenched in colors you never knew existed. It’s like you’re seeing the world in 4K resolution. 

Emotional Amplifier: Your emotions could get more intense. A song might move you to tears, or you could find yourself laughing uncontrollably at something that’s not usually funny. It can be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster.

Time Warp: Your perception of time might take a vacation. What feels like hours could be just minutes. Time can seem to slow down, speed up or become completely irrelevant.

Nature Feels: A newfound appreciation for nature is common. Trees might seem to breathe, and patterns in leaves or grass can become fascinating. It’s like Mother Nature is putting on a private show just for you.

The Inner Journey: Shrooms often kickstart a deep dive into your own psyche. You might unearth thoughts and feelings you didn’t know you had, leading to profound insights about yourself and your place in the universe.

Remember, every shroom trip is a unique adventure. Setting, mood and company play huge roles in shaping the experience. That’s why it’s so essential to be in a welcoming and safe environment.

Over 32 million people globally have shroomed before, according to a 2020 survey by Gitnux. That number has surely grown exponentially since then.

Why are shrooms so popular?

The surge in interest around magic mushrooms, spearheaded by “shroom mommies” and similar communities, signifies a seismic shift in how society views psychedelics. No longer relics of a bygone era of counterculture, these substances are being reexamined through the lens of wellness and self-care. This movement is not just about tapping into unexplored realms of the mind but also about challenging and dismantling the longstanding stigmas associated with psychedelic use.

Barcelona’s blend of enchanting landscapes and a culturally rich environment make it a great place for magic mushroom retreat.

Barcelona, Europe’s Version of Wonderland

If there were ever a place meant for shrooming, it’s Barcelona. Thanks in no small part to the curious genius of Antoni Gaudí and the city’s embrace of vibrant Moderisme, Barcelona is whimsy incarnate. It’s the perfect backdrop for a shift in perspective.

Is shrooming safe?

Participant well-being is prioritized at these retreats, with a focus on safety by professional teams who specialize in psychedelic therapy. These experts provide continuous support, creating a secure and therapeutic environment. The retreat experience is enriched by incorporating holistic practices like meditation, yoga and nature immersion, further elevating the transformative journey.

Dive into the depths of consciousness at a magic mushroom retreat, where nature’s wisdom meets transformative healing and awakening.

What are the benefits of a magic mushroom retreat?

Attendees say they come out the other side as someone new. The insights gained and emotional breakthroughs experienced often lead to lasting changes, offering new perspectives on challenges and enhancing theirquality of life in general. It’s a journey of healing, self-discovery and personal growth. Think of it as therapy — but the kind where you might see sound and hear colors. 

The trip doesn’t end when you leave Barcelona. Chances are you’ll gain insights and lessons into daily life, taking the first steps on a new path — one that has more joy, peace and a deeper appreciation for life.

Magic mushroom retreats in Barcelona offer a fusion of urban whimsy and spiritual depth, inviting participants to explore their consciousness with the safety of expert guidance.

Shroom to Grow: The transformative power of nature’s most mystical fungi

Magic mushroom retreats in Barcelona are more than just a psychedelic experience; they’re a gateway to personal transformation and healing. Set in one of the most interesting cities in Europe, they provide the opportunity for those to look introspectively and make meaningful changes, guided by ancient wisdom and a supportive community.

There’s a fungus among us — and it’s time to see what it’s all about. –Kate Johnson

Santa María la Mayor’s Islamic Roots and Catholic Grandeur

A repurposed mosque, a connection to Hearst Castle, Virgin Mary processional statues and rooftop views in Ronda, Spain. 

The unassuming façade of Santa María la Mayor reflects the adjacent Ayuntamiento (City Hall) and a Moorish minaret-turned-bell-tower. 

After enjoying a late lunch in Ronda, Spain, on the terrace at Don Miguel, the restaurant of the hotel with the same name, we agreed to visit the Iglesia de Santa María la Mayor (Church of Saint Mary the Great). Wally and I were traveling with our friends Jo and José and were delighted to have them as our local guides for the weekend.

The food was good, but the view overlooking the steep El Tajo gorge and Puente Nuevo bridge was even better. The limestone cliffs plunge 390 feet (120 meters) to the Guadalevín River below the bridge connecting the historic old town (La Ciudad) to its modern counterpart (El Mercadillo). 

“Architect Julia Morgan used the bell tower of Santa María la Mayor as the model for the ones at Hearst Castle, the estate of publishing tycoon William Randolph Hearst in San Simeon, California.”

Ronda’s iconic Puente Nuevo, or New Bridge, certainly isn’t “new” — having been completed in 1793 — but it is the most photographed.

As we navigated the cobblestone streets and approached the church, we paused to gaze up at its unusual double-galleried façade, which looks more municipal than religious. The balconies were added during the reign of Felipe II and were a privileged place for nobility to watch the equestrian tournaments held in the square.

José told us that the American architect Julia Morgan used the bell tower of Santa María la Mayor as the model for the pair at Casa Grande, the main house of Hearst Castle, the elaborate hilltop estate of publishing tycoon William Randolph Hearst in San Simeon, California.

Ronda didn’t just leave a mark on Hearst; it also captivated Ernest Hemingway and Orson Welles, both passionate bullfighting enthusiasts who found refuge here. Welles even chose to have his ashes interred in a dry well on the Recreo San Cayetano estate of his good friend, the matador Antonio Ordóñez, on the outskirts of Ronda.

A copy of the gorgeous illuminated Libro de Horas de la Reina Isabel (Queen Isabella’s Book of Hours). For some reason, the original is at the Cleveland Museum of Art. 

Sacred Transformation: The Evolution of Iglesia de Santa María la Mayor 

The church used Ronda’s principal mosque as its foundation. But long before that, the site was allegedly a Roman temple to Diana, goddess of the hunt. 

The conversion from mosque to church began in earnest following the Reconquista of Ronda by Christian military forces in 1485. By the following year, King Fernando II (1479-1516) reconsecrated it as an abbey dedicated to the Virgin of Encarnación.

A statue of Mary as the Queen of Heaven. One interpretation of the crescent moon she’s standing on is that it represents her perpetual virginity.

During the reign of Charles I (1519-1556), its status was elevated to “colegiata” — a collegiate church — led by a clergy of ordained ministers without the direct involvement of a bishop. Its official title is the Real Colegiata de Santa María de la Encarnación la Mayor de Ronda, but locals commonly refer to it as the Iglesia de Santa María la Mayor due to its 19th-century designation as a “high parish” or “parroquia mayor.” Mass is held on Sundays and public holidays at 1 p.m. and on Thursdays at 8 p.m. April through September. 

Traces of its Islamic past are evident in the square-shaped body and arched windows punctuating the bell tower’s brick exterior, which originally served as the minaret of the mosque. It was probably more cost-effective to appropriate and reuse than to completely rebuild. Even so, the renovation of Santa María la Mayor required substantial funding and took nearly two centuries to complete. 

The remains of the mihrab, a semicircular prayer niche covered with stylized Arabic calligraphy and indicating the direction of Mecca, is visible from within the vestibule. Beyond is the gift shop, where we purchased admission for 4.50€ or about $5 per person to gain entry.   

This three-tiered chandelier suspended from the central vault of the Renaissance nave includes 34 lights and 24,700 pieces of sparkling cut crystal.

Split Personality: The Interior of Santa María la Mayor 

Inside, the ornate space feels more like a cathedral than a church. Constructed in two phases, the Gothic half follows the floor plan of the former mosque, while the enlargement initiated after the earthquake of 1580 reflects the evolution of architectural styles that rose in popularity during its extended completion and renovations, including both Renaissance and Baroque elements.

This altar is an impressive example of Spanish Baroque, a style known for its exuberance, grandeur and rich decorative elements.

The Virgin de la Aurora shows Mary in her aspect as Our Lady of the Dawn, a beacon of hope and a source of spiritual guidance for Catholics.

Altar of the Sagrario

The central nave of the Gothic section features an ornate and detailed Baroque giltwood altarpiece. Standing within a niche beneath a Marian crown is the figure of the Inmaculada, the Virgin Mary, standing on clouds. She’s flanked by representations of her mother, Santa Ana; her father, San Joaquín; and the Arcangel San Rafael. Twisted Solomonic columns, covered with delicately carved grapevines and topped by Corinthian capitals, complete the tableau. During our visit, the revered image of the Virgen de la Aurora (Virgin of the Dawn) was displayed on an elaborate paso, or float used for processions.

The Christ child sits upon the shoulders of the giant Saint Christopher and holds a fancy rattle, er, globus cruciger, a small sphere with a cross affixed to its top, symbolizing his sovereign dominion.

Mural of San Cristobalón

The large-scale mural to the left of the altar depicts a larger-than-life San Cristobalón (Saint Christopher), the patron saint of travelers, carrying the baby Jesus upon his shoulders. It was painted by Rondenian artist José Ramos. 

The dramatic statue of Nuestra Señora del Mayor Dolor (Our Lady of Sorrows) depicts the Virgin Mary with her eyes cast heavenward, heart pierced by a sword, her hands clasped in prayer.

Altar of Nuestra Señora del Mayor Dolor

To the right is a highly ornate Churrigueresque-style altar framing a red velvet-lined niche holding the processional figure of Nuestra Señora del Mayor Dolor (Our Lady of Sorrows), which belongs to the religious brotherhood of the Hermandad del Santísimo Cristo de la Sangre. The sculpture depicts the moment when Mary learns that her son will die for the sins of mankind. Her eyes are lifted upwards and her hands are clasped, holding a rosary. Most dramatically, her heart is pierced with a silver sword, and a pair of cherubs flutter menacingly beneath her — one appears to be holding a hammer, and the other, pincers.

The Renaissance-period choir screen is embellished with imagery of the apostles and other saints and has a lectern stand holding a 16th century antiphonal (choir book). 

Coro

The choir screen was a Renaissance addition and features intricately carved cedarwood reliefs depicting the apostles and other saints. It’s no accident that it was placed strategically at the nave’s center as it served as a partition to divide the church into two social classes: aristocrats to the front and parishioners to the back. The lectern stand supports a 16th century antiphonal (choir book), its musical notations intricately inscribed on pages made of vellum. 

The high altar of Santa María la Mayor has an elaborately carved wooden canopy that showcases the Holy Spirit, the Archangel Gabriel and the Virgin Mary.

Baldaquino of the Altar Mayor

One of the most striking elements of the church is the impressive baldaquino, or canopy, located on the high altar under the central dome of the Renaissance nave. Carved from wood, it consists of four slender, finely carved Solomonic columns that support a towering highly decorated cupola topped by an angel. 

The original altarpiece was destroyed during the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939) and replaced by the baldaquino from Nuestra Señora de los Ángeles (Our Lady of the Angels). 

Within the ornate structure are the Archangel Gabriel and the Holy Spirit in the guise of a dove visiting the Virgin to inform her that she will conceive and give birth to Jesus Christ. 

Be sure to climb up to the rooftop, like Duke did, for a view of Ronda from above.

Up on the Rooftop 

We passed through the doorway to the right of the altar and climbed the narrow steps of the winding spiral staircase leading to the roof and viewing deck.

Jo stands on a balcony overlooking the square and the Ayuntamiento, the City Hall.

While we were there, the late afternoon sun cast a soft, warm glow over the terracotta-tiled rooftops of the old city, and it was so clear that we could see the rugged Sierra Nevada mountains in the distance.

Views of the Old Quarter and the mountains beyond from the rooftop

Seen from above, the spiral staircase leading to the rooftop resembles a snail’s shell. 

There’s a long bench if you need to rest or take a moment to enjoy the view. Make sure to peek through the small door at the top of the staircase to take in a bird’s-eye view of the interior of the church.

A figurine of the Baby Jesus with outstretched arms was one of Duke’s favorite pieces in the church’s museum.

Back Down on Earth

After exploring the rooftop, Jo, José, Wally and I returned to the ground floor and wandered through the church museum. It had several glass-front cabinets displaying various religious objects: vestments (clergy apparel), chalices and sculptures, including a life-sized glassy-eyed baby Jesus, which I imagine might get placed in the church’s crèche on Christmas Day. 

The Iglesia de Santa María la Mayor is a short distance from the Puente Nuevo, but its location in the leafy park-like Plaza Duquesa de Parcent feels a world away from the overcrowded tourist area. –Duke

Colegiata Santa María la Mayor 

Plaza de la Duquesa de Parcent s/n 
29400 Ronda Málaga
Spain  

 

Palacio de Viana’s Secret Gardens

Filled with flowers, fountains and fruit trees, each patio at this overlooked gem in Córdoba, Spain has a story waiting to be discovered.

The Palacio de Viana dates back to the 15th century and grew to include a dozen courtyard gardens, many of which are abundant with climbing vines complemented by a distinctive shade of blue.

Suppose you have a brief stay in Córdoba, Spain, and you can only see two of this charming town’s sights. One, of course, has to be the Mezquita. But the second might be a bit surprising: We think you should head a bit off the beaten path to explore the gorgeous plant-filled patios of the Palacio de Viana. 

We might not have even visited the palace (think of it more as a museum and garden where a series of marquises lived) if we hadn’t had a bit of extra time in Córdoba and asked our friend Jo for a recommendation. She told us that it was impressive, but we were absolutely astounded by the variety and number of courtyards. There are 12 in total, not to mention the massive garden, with each taking you on a journey through the home’s extraordinary history.

The striking entrance onto the Plaza Don Gome was added by Luis Gómez de Figueroa y Córdoba, the 2nd Lord of Villaseca.

Visiting Palacio de Viana

As we set off from our lodgings at los Patios del Pañuelo, it was yet another blazingly hot afternoon in Córdoba, even though it was early October. You’re mostly sheltered from the sun by the narrow winding labyrinthine passageways of the historic center. However, after a 15-minute walk en route to the palacio, the intense heat washed over us as if an oven door had opened. The heat builds up throughout the course of the day, and somehow feels hottest around 5 p.m.

Before entering the historic landmark, Duke and I decided to pop into Taberna de Viana, a no-frills café across the street. We were drawn in by a sign advertising their hot pink dragon fruit smoothies.

The seamless blending of indoor and outdoor spaces gives the palace a beautiful harmony.

Refreshed and hydrated, we crossed the Plaza de Don Gome, the small square in front of the palacio. Because we visited during typical siesta hours, our admission was free. (You’ll find this happens a lot in Andalusia, or that the admission is remarkably cheap.)

The courtyards of Córdoba are a testament to the city’s rich history, influenced by various cultural groups, including the Romans, Visigoths, Muslims and Christians over thousands of years.

A Brief History of Cordoban Courtyards

As with most things in town, it started with the Romans. They loved to sip their watered-down wine while lounging in their interior courtyards, a practice that left its mark on Córdoba and has become a symbol of the city. 

The Muslims introduced courtyard gardens that aspired to paradise. Enter ornate tiles, gurgling fountains, reflecting pools and greenery that evokes a desert oasis. 

And when the Christians conquered Córdoba, the courtyards got another makeover, adopting the in-vogue Renaissance style (a bit of a snooze comparatively, in my humble opinion).

The Courtyard of the Columns is actually the newest of all the patios at Viana.

As time marched on, it wasn’t all sunshine and sangria, and some of the patios fell into a state of disrepair. But there’s nothing like a little friendly rivalry to encourage people to whip their courtyards into shape. Competitions were held, leading to the Fiesta de los Patios — an annual event in May that transforms the entire town into a courtyard carnival. This tradition has been recognized and honored by UNESCO since 2012.

The entrance to the palace is through this charming courtyard, which had large photos of bald women cancer survivors when we visited.

A Tour of the Palacio de Viana

Courtyard of the Gate

This courtyard was the entrance to houses once owned by neighbors, the Torres Cabreras, until it was incorporated into the Palacio de Viana in the 19th century. I particularly liked the cobbled floor. A stone pillar, probably of Roman origin and currently repurposed as a planter, was formerly used as a trough for horses and other animals.

It’s come full circle, since the patio is now used as the entrance to the visitor reception center. We left the palace through this patio, which was exhibiting photos of female cancer survivors.

Main plants: bush lilies, Lady Banks’ roses, calla lilies, bougainvillea, centaurea and geraniums

A date palm surrounded by an arcade of 16 Tuscan columns stands at the center of the Reception Courtyard.

Reception Courtyard

Originally an enclosed courtyard, its present incarnation as the entrance to the Patio de Recibo dates back to the 1500s. This transformation took place when Luis Gómez de Figueroa y Córdoba, the 2nd Lord of Villaseca, married María de Guzmán y Argote, a Cordoban noblewoman. Motivated by the union and elevated social status, he constructed the corner façade opening out onto the Plaza de Don Gome. It was designed to impress and highlight the status and wealth of its noble occupants. Some plants were chosen to maintain their greenery throughout the year, while others flowered in different seasons.

A date palm stands at its center, surrounded by an arcade of 16 Tuscan columns supporting a two-story structure, whose window frames are painted in the palace’s signature color, Viana blue. Its trapezoidal shape (think of a triangle with the top shaved off) is a reflection of the plot of land available at the time.

A tour of Viana starts off with a bang, with the large, dramatic Reception Courtyard.

Back in the day, the lord would have his carriage in the stables and enter under one of the arches, while horses would drink water from a Visigothic baptismal font used as a trough. The corner, where two rows of columned arches meet, was where the carriages came and went.

Main plants: plumbago, date palm, Lady Banks’ roses, bush lilies, night blooming jasmine and bougainvillea. 

Walls lined with potted geraniums are a common sight in Córdoba, and the Courtyard of the Cats was no exception.

Courtyard of the Cats

The adjoining courtyard belonged to the Puentezuela de Tres Caños houses, which were purchased in 1545 by Gómez de Figueroa y Córdoba, the 1st Lord of Villaseca. In keeping with medieval tradition, they were cut off from the rest of the palace and used as rental properties. Families that once lived in these homes used the stone troughs in the courtyard gallery for laundry and drew water from the well.

This courtyard once belonged to the Puentezuela de Tres Caños houses and served as rental properties until the second half of the 18th century.

In the second half of the 1700s, it was integrated into the palace and used as offices for the palace’s administrators. But, OK, where are the cats?! It might be a disambiguation of uñas de gato, or cats claws, a leafy vine with sharp three-pronged tendrils resembling a cat’s claws that help it climb and flourish in the courtyard. 

Then again, it’s easy to imagine it was a favorite spot for kitties looking for food scraps after the Viana family took ownership of the palace in 1873 and installed kitchens in the adjoining buildings. 

Main plants: pink trumpet vines, ivy geraniums, geraniums, carnations, marguerites and purple carpet creeping thyme

The Courtyard of the Orange Trees is filled with centuries-old orange trees.

Courtyard of the Orange Trees

Before the Reception Courtyard was built, this was the entrance to the palace in the 15th century. 

Inspired by Muslim orchard gardens, this courtyard is filled with centuries-old orange trees, surrounded by rounded hedges. These were private spaces where one could sit and think, perhaps pondering the meaning of life. They were designed to mimic desert oases, with water being a prominent feature, referred to in the Quran as “divine mercy” — not surprising considering the arid nature of much of the Islamic world.

The patio was inspired by traditional Muslim orchard gardens.

If you close your eyes and focus on your senses, you might smell the delicate scent of orange blossoms or heliotrope followed by the gentle sound of gurgling water. Remember the original purpose of such an intimate, tranquil space: introspection, communion with the divine and contemplation of nature.

How dapper! The last marquis of Viana would pick a flower from the courtyard every day to put in his jacket’s buttonhole.

But I don’t recommend following the tradition of the last marquis of Viana who lived here. Every morning he’d come to the Courtyard of the Orange Trees to pick a heliotrope flower for the buttonhole of his jacket — I’m pretty sure that picking the flowers is now discouraged.

Main plants: bitter orange trees, white water lilies, calla lilies, Chinese wisteria, pig squeak and plumbago. 

The Marchioness of Viana had these tiered steps built to display her pots of cineraria during the passing of the Virgin of Anguish on Holy Thursday.

Courtyard of the Bars

Courtyards are typically private spaces hidden from the casual passerby, but the Patio de las Rejas, or Courtyard of the Bars, breaks with that tradition. Created by the 3rd Lord of Villaseca, Gómez de Figueroa de Córdoba, it features three Mannerist-style openings with wrought iron railings. These “bars” gave the courtyard its name and offered the public a view of the home’s beauty from Rejas de Don Gome Street. If this seems like a means for nobility to flaunt their status and wealth, you're right. 

Cordoban courtyard gardens liberally use potted plants for decoration, something we hadn’t seen anywhere else.

To ensure greenery throughout the year (important since this courtyard was on public display), the gardeners put citrus trees on trellises along the walls, training them to grow vertically. Tiered steps were built following orders from Sofía Amelia de Lancaster y Bleck (1904-1982), 3rd Marchioness of Viana to display her pots of cineraria during the passing of the Virgen de las Angustias (Virgin of Anguish) on Holy Thursday. 

Additionally, she chose to have her bedroom window face the courtyard from the second floor, ensuring that she’d have the best view of the courtyard.

Main plants: citrus trees, geraniums, cineraria, centaura and calla lilies. 

That’s Madama — the water nymph who gave the courtyard its name.

Madama Courtyard 

Created as part of the renovations that took place during the 18th century, the Patio de la Madama was designed to be admired from inside the palace. Cypress trees frame the fountain at its center, which features a naiad, or water nymph, pouring water from a jug, much like the star sign Aquarius. Calla lilies sprout from pots submerged in the basin. 

The naiad, the madama of the courtyard’s name, gazes toward the windows of the Admiral’s Bedroom (so called because the last Marquis of Viana, who served as an Admiral of the Navy, used it as a guest room when his military buddies came to stay). The Neoclassical style of this intimate courtyard is enhanced by the wrought iron balcony and the Viana blue windows and doors.

If you visit during the summer, jasmine will be in full bloom, covering one of the walls and filling the air with its heady fragrance.

Main plants: mandarins, sweet violets, heartsease, bougainvillea, velvet groundsel and jasmine. 

The large garden at Viana was inspired by those in France. It’s composed of symmetrical, meticulously trimmed hedges designs.

The Garden

In an effort to keep up with the Joneses, or at least the rest of the nobility, the 7th Marquis of Villaseca, Diego Rafael Cabrera (1767-1816), added a French-inspired garden to the palace. The marquis purchased the homes of his neighbors, the counts of Torres Cabrera, and subsequently demolished them to create this expansive green space, covering over 13,000 square feet or 1,200 square meters. The garden includes some of the oldest botanical specimens at Viana, such as the towering white oak that stands over 82 feet (25 meters) high, believed to be about four centuries old.

The grotesque-style gazebo on one side of the garden struck us as a bit ominous.

Well-manicured box hedges form geometric shapes that divide the garden, with a circular pathway surrounding the central fountain. To the far right as you enter the garden is a peculiar structure covered in ivy. We saw other visitors crouching inside it, and I wouldn’t argue with its designation as a “grotesque-style” gazebo.

Main plants: citrus trees, white oaks, Delavay’s magnolias, oleanders, pomegranates, roses, velvet groundsel and German irises. 

Traditional Islamic gardens had pools to aerate and oxygenate the water.

Courtyard of the Pool

At the back of the garden is the Patio de la Alberca, or Courtyard of the Pool, a service area where gardeners work their magic behind the scenes. A greenhouse from the 1960s stands where, in the past, stuffed deer heads once hung — relics from hunts with King Alfonso XIII.

The pool is a more recent addition, transferred to its current location from the nearby Courtyard of the Well in the 1980s. Pools have essential roles in Arabic gardens, aside from offering picturesque reflections: Sunlight aerates and oxygenates the water, which, at Viana comes from the well, before it’s used in irrigation.

Main plants: citrus trees, centaurea, geraniums, carnations, white lantana and corals

The well at Viana connects to an underground stream. It supplies all the water at the palace, nourishing the numerous plants and feeding its fountains.

Courtyard of the Well

An additional service area, the Patio del Pozo, or the Courtyard of the Well, is the water source of the complex. The ancient well, a whitewashed hexagon with brick trim and an iron arch, connects to the Colodro stream, which flows underground and supplies enough water for the entire palace, including its fountains.

The Fuente de Doña Leonor, named for one of the daughters of the 2nd Marquis of Viana. 

Old earthenware jugs used as plant pots dot the courtyard amid bougainvillea and other plants. Look for the mustachioed face jutting out from one of the palace’s walls. It’s the Fuente de Doña Leonor, named for one of the daughters of the 2nd Marquis of Viana. 

Main plants: bougainvillea, chrysanthemums, jasmine, petunias, lantanas and redflush

Plumbago has been trained to grow up the wall in the Courtyard of the Gardeners.

Courtyard of the Gardeners

Rounding out the trio of service courtyards, this one gets its name from being where the gardeners store their tools. (Originally, it was called the Courtyard of the Dogs, for, one imagines, obvious reasons.) Its most noteworthy feature is the wall that forms a vertical garden of plumbago. A window that peers into the Courtyard of the Well, bordered in pretty geometric zellij tiles. In fact, this patio has the most tilework of any at the palace — see how many you can find.

Wally on the Courtyard of the Gardeners

This courtyard reflects a tradition of the middle class: a delightful mishmash of items placed around the patio. Unable to afford statues, the average Córdoban would scatter antiques, archeological finds, furniture, ceramics, plinths and more. Look closely and you’ll spot a church lintel. 

Main plants: plumbago, centaurea, roses, petunias and geraniums 

There’s a sense of quietude when you enter the Courtyard of the Chapel. It’s meant to be a place for introspection before worshiping in the small chapel.

Courtyard of the Chapel

Repetition. Harmony. Tranquility. These are the themes of the stately Patio de la Capilla, or Courtyard of the Chapel, designed to inspire introspection among the shadows of the citrus trees. If it feels a bit solemn, that’s the point: It leads to the private chapel, so silence is encouraged.

Back when this section of the palace was still owned by the counts of Torres Cabrera, this was their main courtyard. Created in the 17th century, it was incorporated into the Palacio de Viana 200 years later.

Archeological artifacts decorate the courtyard — evidence of a fad spurred on in part by the discovery of King Tut’s tomb in Egypt.

The altar of the family chapel

Archeology gained mainstream appeal in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, spurred on by the discoveries of Pompeii and King Tut’s tomb. Placing archeological pieces around your patio came into vogue. This courtyard reflects that trend, with some museum-worthy items placed about, including marble flooring and small statues from Ancient Rome, as well as pieces of columns. 

Main plants: citrus trees, bush lilies, primrose and mind-your-own-business

A beautiful blue and yellow zellij tiled fountain is the centerpiece of the Courtyard of the Archive.

Courtyard of the Archive

Built by the 6th Marchioness of Villaseca in the 1700s, this courtyard is an example of Cordoban Baroque (not the gilded excess found in Baroque churches you might be thinking of). The Baroque aspect is more about a line of vision leading into the Courtyard of the Bars.

This is actually one of the more minimal patios, with hedges along the edges and a blue and yellow tiled fountain in the center. The idea is not to compete with the whitewashed walls of the home and the iconic doors and windows in Viana blue. 

The archives are on the second floor, containing over 300,000 documents.

The second floor is where the palace’s archives are kept, giving the courtyard its name. Over 300,000 documents, dating back to the 12th century, are stored there.

Main plants: mandarins, sweet violets, bush lilies, calla lilies, ivy geraniums and night blooming jasmine

The gorgeous Courtyard of the Columns was created as an event space.

Courtyard of the Columns

The largest and newest of the complex, the Patio de las Columnas was added in the 1980s as a space to host events — everything from poetry readings to theatrical performances, from awards ceremonies to art exhibitions.

Duke dances gaily with the Romany cutout.

Wally strikes a pose with a sassy niño.

Sunlight illuminates the two-tone cobblestone patterns covering the ground, and a long, narrow pool with a chevron-patterned bottom anchors the center of the courtyard. On the left, 11 columns are linked by arches, while the tower of the Church of San Agustín rises just beyond the façade of a house supported by four columns. 

Main plants: jasmine, centaurea, bougainvillea and geraniums 

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Note: Much of this information comes from Courtyards of Viana, a visual guide you can purchase in the gift shop.

There are a couple of rooms you can peer into or wander through at the palace, to see the furnishings of the noble families who lived here.

A Glimpse Into the Lives of Nobility

Throughout our visit, we saw interior rooms filled with gorgeous furniture, objects and works of art, amassed over the five centuries it was inhabited by nobility.

This whimsical Baroque clock was one of the more distinctive pieces we saw at the Palacio de Viana.

The house has been open to the public since 1980. Whether you love gardens, architecture or both, the Palacio de Viana, rooted in local history and filled with flowers, is a must-see for all who visit Córdoba. –Wally

Palacio de Viana

Plaza de don Gome, 2
14001 Córdoba
Spain

 

Itálica’s Rich Roman Heritage

Explore one of the largest amphitheaters (as seen on Game of Thrones!) and admire the impressive mosaics on a day trip from Seville to the ruins of the first Ancient Roman town outside of Italy. 

The House of the Birds is the largest complex at Itálica.

Since Wally and I were spending five days in Sevilla, Spain, we figured we could add the nearby Roman ruins of Itálica to our itinerary. It reminded us of visiting the ruins of Volubilis outside of the city of Meknès, Morocco (although the Spanish weather was much nicer). We both share a passion for history: Wally’s childhood interest in Ancient Rome matches my fascination with Ancient Egypt (which we were fortunate enough to experience together, but I digress). 

“The amphitheater was used as a filming location for ‘Game of Thrones.’

Thanks to some CGI magic, it served as the Dragonpit.”

The Venus of Itálica was unearthed in 1940. This is a replica — the actual statue is in the Archaeological Museum of Seville.

The archaeological park of Itálica (which Wally joking referred to as Italics) is located about 30 minutes northwest of Sevilla, in the municipality of Santiponce, and is one of the cultural points of interest along the Ruta Bética Romana, the Roman Baetica Route — an ancient Roman road that runs through the provinces of Sevilla, Cádiz and Córdoba. If you’re so inclined, you can walk it, though it’ll take you weeks. 

We had already done our fair share of walking, and since it was unseasonably hot, opted to take the 170A bus from the Plaza de Armas station, which typically departs every half hour from Sevilla. 

A replica of the 2nd century statue of Diana, goddess of the hunt, greets visitors to Itálica.

Roman Expansion: A Brief History of Itálica

Itálica was the first Roman city established outside of Italy and thrived from the 2nd to the 4th century CE. Its origins can be traced back to General Scipio Africanus’ victory at Ilipa (near Sevilla) in 206 CE. During the Second Punic War, Scipio’s tactical efforts against Hannibal and the Carthaginians focused on the lower Guadalquivir valley, and after conquering the region, he established the settlement for his veteran troops to live.

Itálica bore witness to the births of Trajan (53-117 CE) and his adopted son and successor, Hadrian (76-138 CE) who were the first Roman emperors born outside of Italy. 

A reproduction of a statue of the Roman emperor Trajan in heroic pose found in Itálica. The original can be seen at the — you guessed it — Archaeological Museum of Seville. 

Hadrian expanded the city to include the Urbs Nova, literally the “New City,” added an impressive amphitheater and elevated its status to colonia—the highest designation for a Roman city. Additionally, Itálica amassed significant wealth from the exportation of grain and olive oil grown in the fertile soil of the Gerena Depression. These goods were transported to the Guadalquivir River and shipped to Rome by boat.

However, by the 4th century, the combined impact of mass deforestation and poor agricultural practices left Itálica’s river port dry, ultimately causing the city to be abandoned.

Aside from a group of schoolchildren, we pretty much had Itálica to ourselves.

Visiting Itálica

After a short walk from the bus stop, Wally and I arrived at the park entrance. We purchased the very affordable admission: 3€ ($3.25) for both of us. It’s free for EU citizens. Bring some cash — they don’t take credit cards. 

Plaques and a milestone with Hadrian’s name on it

We made a detour to the restroom, which is located in a nearby building, where we saw a commemorative plaque bearing the names of individuals who financed the early excavations at Itálica, as well as a marble milestone inscribed with Emperor Hadrian’s name.

I wasn’t sure what to expect. Most exposed ruins, those not buried beneath sand or soil, were commonly pillaged and used as a source of building materials by whomever occupied the region after they had been abandoned. Additional bits were plundered during the French occupation of Spain, and in the 18th century, a mosaic called the Loves of Zeus was taken by Regla Manjón, the Countess of Lebrija, and incorporated into her palatial home in Sevilla. Several artifacts, including the erotic Abduction of Hylas, are displayed at the Museo Arqueológico de Sevilla (the Archeological Museum of Seville). 

In 1912, the complex was officially declared a national monument, ensuring its conservation and protection against further looting.

Start your visit to Itálica by exploring the amphitheater.

Game On: Exploring the Amphitheater

Situated just beyond the park’s entrance are the remains of the amphitheater. It was built between 117 and 138 CE and commissioned by Emperor Hadrian. When it was completed, it ranked among the largest in the Roman Empire and could accommodate up to 30,000 spectators — about half as many as the Colosseum in Rome, but far exceeding the scale required for a community of 8,000 inhabitants.

The interior portions are closed off to the public.

The site was used as a filming location and featured in the penultimate season of Game of Thrones. Thanks to some CGI-generated magic, it served as the Dragonpit, where three members of major houses have a historic meeting about a common enemy.

Attention, Game of Thrones fans! The amphitheater at Itálica, with some help from CGI, became the Dragonpit.

The amphitheater was the stage for the spectacle of bloodsport: gladiatorial combat, historic battle re-creations and animal hunts. Romans of all social classes attended, and the stand levels were carefully regulated and divided into a hierarchy based on wealth, gender and status. The lowest tier, or ima cavea, was closest to the action, reserved for the highest-ranking males. Women and the poor, meanwhile, sat or stood on wooden benches in the highest part of the stands, the suma cavea, which was covered by an awning to protect from the heat. 

The passage leading to the fossa beastiaria, where wild animals were caged before being released into the amphitheater to be “hunted”

The massive rectangular pit at the center of the arena, known as the fossa beastiaria, was used to house the caged wild beasts that appeared in the spectacles prior to being released for the entertainment of the audience.

A variety of rather well-preserved murals can be seen at Itálica — though many of them are missing their central images.

Main Street Mosaics

We paused by a sign where the remnants of the city wall stood. In Roman times, the entire city was bounded by a walled perimeter. From here, you can glimpse the main sewer line, which runs through the Cardo Maximus (Latin for Main Street).

Beyond the amphitheater, large villas of prosperous families and municipal buildings have been excavated, many with colorful well-preserved mosaics. 

The House of Exedra was a private club of sorts for the elite of Itálica.

Exedra, Exedra, Exedra

Spanning a surface area of 43,056 square feet (4,000 square meters), the Casa de la Exedra was one of the largest municipal buildings in Itálica. Due to its size and the inclusion of specific rooms, like the palestra (an open-air gymnasium) and latrine, historians have suggested that this structure probably served as a private club. Alongside the entrance were five tabernae, or shops.

At the heart of the complex is the peristyle, a garden courtyard featuring a curvilinear fountain. Adjacent to this was the exedra, a semicircular chamber with seating that served as a gathering place for upper-class citizens to engage in scholarly conversation. Originally, this area was covered by a high vault. 

It also featured a thermae, which consisted of a series of rooms designed for bathing with hot, lukewarm and cold water — caldarium, tepidarium and frigidarium, respectively — as well as a changing room for patrons.

Potty humor? The floor mosaic of the latrine is embellished with scenes featuring well-endowed pygmies battling cranes.

As we walked along the perimeter of the structure, we stopped to take a look at the latrine. Although it’s been reduced to a shell, it still retains its marble bench with keyhole-shaped openings. The room was open, and the “toilets” had no partitions between them. When nature called, Romans had no issue hiking up their togas to conduct their business in close proximity to one another.

Look how close you had to sit to other people while taking a dump. Could someone pass the sponge stick, please?

The bench is positioned above a channel where a stream of water once pushed the waste into the underground sewage system. An attendant would provide patrons with a tersorium, a sea sponge affixed to a wooden stick, which was used instead of toilet paper to wipe their nether regions. These communal sponges were then rinsed in running water and submerged in a large pot filled with vinegar to sanitize them. Eww.

“At least they used vinegar,” Wally said.

The god Neptune, king of the sea, rules over a variety of mythological water creatures.

Go Fish: The Neptune Building 

Although it hasn’t been completely excavated, the work carried out to date has indicated that one part of the Edificio de Neptuno functioned as a thermal bath, while another served as a municipal building.

Both structures cover an entire block, and the municipal building has intricate mosaics depicting Theseus and the Minotaur, along with a mosaic of Bacchus, the god of wine. The Theseus mosaic covers the floor of a grand hall and originally had a central panel portraying the divine hero within the Minotaur’s labyrinth. Meanwhile, the Bacchus mosaic features dancing maenads, satyrs, centaurs and tigers — figures typical of Bacchus’ entourage. Similar to the mosaic of Theseus, the depiction of Bacchus, the Greek Dionysus, is also missing.

At the time we visited, the mosaic was covered by netting for protection — but you can see a crocodile chasing a pygmy at the bottom.

The building that contained the bathhouse retains the remnants of its underground heating system. Within the frigidarium is the mosaic that gives the buildings its name. At its center is the sea god, wielding his trident atop a chariot pulled by two seahorses and surrounded by dolphins, fish molluscs and crustaceans. Its border includes scenes of fishing and combat with Egyptian iconography, depicting a hippopotamus, a palm tree, and the clearly popular but bizarre motif of pygmies battling cranes and crocodiles.

The remains of an oven from a bakery, one of the tabernae, or shops that lined the street-side of these luxurious villas.

Tabernae: Rome’s Retail Therapy

Tabernae could often be found along the perimeter of a household and served as an extra source of income for the owner of a villa. They included a variety of businesses, ranging from bakeries selling fresh loaves of bread to shops that produced small terracotta oil lamps called lucernes, and fullonicae, a kind of laundry or dry cleaner, where clothing was washed in a basin and agitated with a mixture of soda ash and urine. (Hey, apparently it worked.)

The main mosaic at the House of the Birds features various bird species, including a peacock, owl, rooster, pigeon, sparrow, heron, goose, parrot and mallard duck.

Pecking Order at the House of the Birds

The Casa de los Pájaros, also known as the House of the Birds, was the first domus, a private family residence, to be fully excavated in Itálica and likely belonged to an aristocratic family. Covering approximately 18,298 square feet (1,700 square meters), it’s divided into two primary spaces: a public area open to clients, tabernae and a semi-public area for those closely associated with the family; and a private area restricted to family members.

Kids on a field trip wander around the House of the Birds.

A room at the House of the Birds

A colorful, well-preserved mosaic

The semi-public area was arranged around a peristyle courtyard which would’ve been surrounded by a columned gallery. At the back of this courtyard, there was a niche known as a lararium that held small bronze figures dedicated to Lares and Penates, guardian deities that protected the household. The private rooms, including the triclinium (formal dining room) and cubicula (bedrooms) could be accessed from the courtyard. 

The portion of the mosaic showing Hylas, Hercules’ well-endowed boy toy, getting sexually accosted by nymphs has been removed and is now in the Archaeological Museum of Seville.

Hylas, the Horse Hung Hero

Yet another elite residence in Itálica is the partially excavated Casa de Hylas, or House of Hylas. The northernmost courtyard connects to an anteroom, which served as a passage to the room housing the mosaic of Hylas, after which the house was named.

This mosaic portrays Hylas, the favored companion and lover of Hercules, being seduced and abducted by nymphs while collecting water from a spring. I’m certainly no prude, but the mosaic has a scene that made me clutch my pearls. One of the nymphs has her hand wrapped around Hylas’ calf while the other is clearly pulling his dick.

As mentioned earlier, this section of the mosaic has been removed and is now exhibited at the Archaeological Museum of Seville, leaving the surrounding geometric-patterned mosaic incomplete without its central image.

A mosaic at the House of the Planetarium depicts the Roman gods who were associated with each day of the week. In the bottom right, for example, is Helios, who drove the chariot that pulls the sun across the sky. Not surprisingly, he’s paired with Sunday.

Out of This World: House of the Planetarium 

The last villa that Wally and I saw was the Casa del Planetario, or House of the Planetarium. The floor mosaic has seven medallions with depictions of each of the planetary deities who gave their names to the seven days of the week. This was Wally’s favorite, and he had to elbow some children out of the way to get a good look at it. 

Centaurs and tigers line the mosaic of Bacchus and Ariadne.

The centermost celestial body of the mosaic is Venus, whose likeness is depicted wearing a jeweled crown and necklace, perhaps an allusion to the brightness of this star. As a divinity, she’s associated with Friday, the sixth day of the Roman week, and her prominent position suggests that love, one of her attributes, moves the universe.

Surrounding Venus are Helios (Sunday), Luna (Monday), Mars (Tuesday) Mercury (Wednesday), Jupiter (Thursday) and Saturn (Saturday). 

The gladiator Wally celebrates yet another stunning win.

Tips for Itálica

We had an incredible time and spent about two and a half hours leisurely exploring the site. It exceeded my expectations. We were impressed by the sheer scale of the amphitheater and the quality of the mosaics. Except for a school field trip, complete with costumed chaperones dressed in Roman garb, the crowds were sparse, which made it feel like we had the place (somewhat) to ourselves. Plus, the majestic cypress trees dotting the landscape lend Itálica an atmospheric charm.

This elevated spot in Itálica offers a scenic view of the cobbled Roman road and the town of Santiponce.

On a practical note, remember to wear comfortable shoes for your visit and to bring sunscreen; there was little to no shade throughout the park. Also drink plenty of water. We brought two large bottles of water and snacks with us and were glad we did because there is no longer a café on the premises. 

If you’re seeking a fun half-day trip close to Sevilla, I highly suggest hopping on the bus to Itálica. The archeological site’s ancient charms will be part of the mosaic of your memories. –Duke

Mansions, Monuments and Museums of the Plaza de Jerónimo Páez in Córdoba

While exploring the historic quarter of Córdoba, Spain, admire the Palacio de los Páez de Castillejo and Casa del Judío before you stop in the archaeological museum.

It’s easy to understand why Córdoba’s entire historic quarter earned its UNESCO World Heritage Site designation in 1985. As Wally and I explored the narrow cobblestone streets of la Judería, the city’s former Jewish quarter, our wanderings led us to charming plazas that opened up to reveal historic homes and restaurants with inviting outdoor seating, where you can sit and relax with the locals. 

Among these squares is Plaza de Jerónimo Páez, named after a descendant of the influential Cordobesan family responsible for the Renaissance-style Palacio de los Páez de Castillejo and the equally historic Casa del Judío. Having endured years of neglect, the plaza was renovated in the 1990s, when the archaeological museum was expanded.

During the city’s era of Roman occupation, known as Corduba at that time, this square served as the entertainment district, boasting one of the largest theaters in the empire. The partial remains of this historic structure are now displayed beneath the modern Archaeological and Ethnological Museum of Córdoba, located next to the atmospheric 16th century Palacio de los Páez de Castillejo.

From palace gardens to private residence to school to museum, the Palacio de los Páez de Castillejo has had a rich history.

Palacio de los Páez de Castillejo

What initially caught our attention as we walked through the square was the gloriously decayed sandstone façade of the Palacio de los Páez de Castillejo family — aptly named, considering their surname, Castillejo, translates to “Little Castle” — which is essentially what this home was.

A pair of life-size marble korai, female figures dressed in long tunics, and a Corinthian capital with acanthus leaves creates a striking vignette.

This lovely Roman mosaic includes motifs such as interlaced Solomon’s knot, vines, pomegranates and crescent-shaped pelta shields.

One of the many beautiful Mudéjar-style niches with scalloped arches within the palace courtyard — and the equally dashing Wally. 

The residence was renovated in the 16th century by Luis Páez de Castillejo and stands on the grounds of what were once the gardens of Ybrahim Ben Nacer Alfaqui’s palace. In 1538, he commissioned the prominent Spanish architect Hernán Ruiz II to oversee the redevelopment of the main courtyard, Renaissance-style façade and sculpted railing of the main staircase. Ruiz II collaborated with his father, Hernán Ruiz the Elder, on the contentious construction of the Capilla Mayor within the Mosque-Cathedral of Córdoba.

The silhouettes on the cloth added a modern art feel to this area of the courtyard.

Besides serving as the Páez de Castillejo residence, the building was used as a school at the end of the 19th century, known as the Polytechnic Academy. And in 1959, it became the Archaeological and Ethnological Museum of Córdoba.

This impressive sculpture, known as the Thoracata of Córdoba and named after a type of Roman battle armor, depicts the massive torso of a hero — possibly Aeneas in his escape from Troy — wearing an intricate breastplate adorned with a pair of griffins.

Its exterior is similar to Ruiz II’s work on the Puerta del Puente, the principal gateway to the Roman Bridge in town, and, like the monument, was designed in the style of a triumphal arch. Among its notable features are a pair of porticos supported by Doric columns, with heroic figures positioned between them. Above the entablature, classical figures hold the family coat of arms. This imagery aimed to immortalize the Páez de Castillejo family as the living embodiment of discipline, loyalty and self-sacrifice to the people of Córdoba. 

This staircase features a sandstone railing designed by Hernán Ruiz II as well as a Roman mosaic depicting rearing horses drawing a chariot.

Be sure to go through that gorgeous gateway — it’s free and only takes a short while to stroll around the courtyard.

Initially, Wally and I stood there, gawking and uncertain about entering, but after we saw a man speaking to the guard stationed at the entrance, we decided to ask about the building. The guard informed us that it’s an extension of the modern archaeological museum and welcomed us to take a look around the interior courtyard. We walked around the first courtyard, which is dedicated to Roman archaeology, including mosaics and sculptures. However, unlike the adjacent institution, the artifacts on display here are not clearly marked.

Although it’s not open to the public, the exterior of Casa del Judío is worth pausing to take a look at.

Casa del Judío

Over the centuries, the enigmatic building located across from the Palacio de los Páez de Castillejo has been inextricably linked to the Castilian royal family and the generations of noble lineages connected to them, including the Sousa, Haro, Armenia and Cárdenas families.

Originally a Mudéjar palace, the stately manor is also called the Palacio del Duque de Medina Sidonia, or the Palace of the Duke of Medina Sidonia. For, it was within these walls that the bastard son of Juana de Sousa and Henry II of Castile, Enrique de Castilla y de Sousa, aka the first duke of Medina Sidonia, was born.

While eating at La Cavea, we spotted a cool couple in front of the Casa del Judío.

Although it’s not open to the public, you can still admire its ceramic-tiled roof, vibrant fuchsia bougainvilleas and square tower with a hipped roof enclosed by a latticework screen. To the left of the doorway, sheltered by greenery, is a bronze bust perched atop a marble plinth immortalizing the Roman poet Marcus Annaeus Lucanus (39-65 CE), better known in English literature as Lucan. 

Lucan was the nephew of the philosopher-statesman Lucius Annaeus Seneca (Seneca the Younger). He attracted the favorable attention of the Roman emperor Nero but conspired with Gaius Calpurnius Piso in a scheme to assassinate Nero and install Piso as his successor. Ultimately, its failure led to Lucan’s arrest and his subsequent suicide at the age of 26. 

Today the home is more commonly referred to by locals as la Casa del Judío, or in English, the Jew’s House, in reference to Elie J. Nahamias, a Judeo-Greek businessman and its most recent owner, who passed away in 1994. Nahamias was a descendant of the pre-exile Sephardic communities that inhabited the Iberian Peninsula and assembled an impressive library of printed books and manuscripts spanning six centuries of Jewish history. His collection is held by the Library of the Alliance Israélite Universelle based in Paris, France. And although the property is privately owned by his children, you can still admire its beautiful exterior.

A cute location and a good option if you want a snack or drink while visiting the archeological museum — but otherwise you can find better food elsewhere in town.

Café-Bar La Cavea

The center of the square is taken up with a casual resturant, with tables placed under the shade of trees (with white umbrellas an additional barrier from the heat when needed), all sitting amid broken remnants of Roman columns. When we stopped by, there was live music, with a performer taking up station by the fountain.

Beware choco! Although our Spanish friends say it’s actually good, this one was rubbery and flavorless. If you really want to cringe, do a search for “cuttlefish.”

While the café gets points for its setting, the food didn’t impress us — especially since we ordered calamari but where told they had choco instead, which is very close. Imagine our dismay when we discovered that it not only looked like and and was practically the size of a bleached, deflated football, it tasted like one, too. (Wally had also made the mistake of Googling what cuttlefish look like, which didn’t do him any favors). I was recovering from heat stroke, so he choked down as much choco as he could before giving up.

Detail of an intricately carved Mudejar relief featuring sebqa work, a decorative technique characterized by the repetition of geometric and vegetal forms.

Hidden Gems

Our wanderings through the historic Plaza de Jerónimo Páez offered glimpses into Córdoba’s rich history, through its ruins, artifacts and storied mansions. This square is no longer the bustling entertainment district it was when it was home to one of the largest theaters in the Roman Empire. But it still captivates visitors with its antique structures and inviting energy. Be sure to admire your surroundings before you head into the archeological museum, which is worth visiting. –Duke

Plaza de Jerónimo Páez

 

Torre Campanario de Córdoba: Scaling the Heights of the Town’s Tallest Landmark

The 9th century minaret-turned-bell-tower of the Mezquita offers spectacular 360-degree views of the UNESCO World Heritage Site. 

We chose to visit just before sunset to get some of that golden hour glow.

In the heart of Córdoba’s Historic Quarter stands a towering sentinel: the Torre Campanario de la Mezquita-Catedral de Córdoba, or the Bell Tower of the Mosque-Cathedral of Córdoba. Rising 54 meters high — equivalent to a 16-story building — this remarkable landmark claims the distinction of being the city’s tallest structure. 

Formerly a mosque minaret, the bell tower stands as a living testament to Córdoba’s fascinating and diverse past. Visitors can climb to new heights and experience breathtaking vistas from the two uppermost levels of the tower. 

The original minaret didn’t stand in the exact location of the bell tower, but it was close by and accessible from within the Patio de los Naranjos

A Brief History of the Minaret of the Great Mosque 

But first, let me take you back to the year 957, during the period of Muslim rule in southern Spain (or al-Andulus). Abd ar-Rahman III (891-961), the first caliph of the Umayyad Dynasty in Spain, had a new alminar — a minaret tower — built along the north wall of the mosque. This tower, where the muezzin calls the faithful to prayer, replaced the original one built by Hisham I (757-796) in the 8th century. Hisham’s tower had stood in the Patio de los Naranjos, the Courtyard of the Orange Trees, and was removed when the courtyard was expanded. 

The architectural marvel likely resembled Sevilla’s La Giralda and had a rectangular shaft with a square base, an open-air platform, and a smaller secondary structure topped by an iridescent chevron-patterned bronze dome. At its summit, a yamur — an iron finial with metal spheres of decreasing size — was placed to protect the mosque from evil. 

The original yamur and cross from the Reconquest are displayed alongside a scale model of the minaret built by Abd ar-Rahman III at the Museo Arqueológico de Córdoba. 

However, a century after Abd ar-Rahman III’s reign, the Umayyad Empire teetered on the verge of collapse amid the chaos of civil war. Ferdinand III of Castile and his armies seized this opportunity, taking Córdoba by force on June 29, 1236. This pivotal moment marked the fall of the Great Mosque, which was converted into the Catedral de Nuestra Señora de la Asunción, the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Assumption, dedicated to none other than the Virgin Mary. As a political declaration of victory, a Christian cross was placed atop the minaret’s yamur, a potent gesture marking the reconquest of the Catholic monarchy over its Islamic predecessors, with the alminar serving as the cathedral’s bell tower. 

Vista de Córdoba (View of Córdoba) by François Boussuet, painted in 1863, depicts the Guadalquivir River, the Roman Bridge and a view of the Mezquita-Catedral’s bell tower.

Monumental Changes: The Minaret Becomes The Bell Tower

The Mezquita remained mostly unchanged under the Castilian Christians until 1523, when Bishop Alonso de Manrique petitioned Charles V and obtained his approval to construct the massive Capilla Mayor and Coro Crucero — the main chapel’s cruciform nave and transept — a full-fledged cathedral placed rather unceremoniously at the center of the former mosque. 

An earthquake in 1589 left the bell tower unstable, leading to the decision to encase the structure. It was rebuilt and enlarged in the prevailing Renaissance style, under the direction of Hernán Ruiz III, the grandson of Hernán Ruiz the Elder, who had overseen the construction of the aforementioned Capilla Mayor. The lower half of the tower façade is marked by false windows, an architectural feature with horizontal lintel beams, bottom sills and indentations where a window might have gone. Additionally, it displays the various coats of arms belonging to the Cathedral Chapter, the patrons who financed the refurbishment. 

The fourth tier, or belfry, features a serilana — a window with three openings. This architectural element is distinguished by a central arched window flanked by a pair of rectangular ones and offers a glimpse of the 12 bells within. Above this are two oculi, small ovoid openings echoing the exterior façade of the Capilla Mayor. Construction halted multiple times as funds were redirected to complete the Capilla Mayor. Unfortunately, Ruiz didn’t live to see its completion, but I think he would’ve been pleased with the final outcome. 

Construction resumed in 1616 under the direction of architect Juan Sequero de Matilla. This phase included the addition of the smaller clock tower tier housing a pair of bells used to mark the passage of time. Its exterior is framed by pilaster columns topped by a triangular pediment, shields bearing the coat of arms of Bishop Diego de Mardones and arched windows in the middle of each side. 

Almost five decades later, Gaspar de la Peña was tasked with repairing the south and west façades of the bell tower. He added the circular cupola to the clock tower and a figure representing Córdoba’s patron saint, San Rafael, attributed to sculptors Pedro de Paz and Bernabé Gómez del Río, at the top. 

While the tower has undergone various restorations, the most comprehensive conservation effort to date commenced in 1991, when the building was closed, not reopening until 2014.

Where else would you get the best view of this charming town than from its tallest building?

How to Visit and Climb to the Top 

Following our early morning visit to the Mosque-Cathedral, we made a beeline to the kiosks beside the bell tower to secure tickets to climb it later that day. Wally purchased tickets for the 6 p.m. time slot (each priced at 3€, or about $3 at the time), figuring this would allow us to experience the enchanting “golden hour,” that magical time just before sunset.

This is how you access the staircase of the bell tower. Groups of 20 go every half hour.

Tickets can also be bought online. Tours commence every half-hour, running daily from 9:30 a.m. to 6:30 p.m. Don’t assume you’ll be able to go right up the tower; tickets tend to sell out well before each time slot. Only 20 people are permitted to enter per group, and you must leave after the allotted 30 minutes. 

Keep in mind that tickets for the bell tower do not include entry to the Mosque-Cathedral, and vice versa.

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RELATED: Learn more about Córdoba’s must-visit La Mezquita with its mesmerizing arches.

How many pictures can elicit gasps of astonishment like this one?

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Before purchasing tickets, be aware of the following restrictions: Entry isn’t permitted for children under 7, those aged 7 to 14 must be accompanied by an adult, and elderly or individuals with health issues are advised against the climb. 

You can gaze upon the Courtyard of the Orange Trees and the Mosque-Cathedral from one side of the bell tower and a view of the narrow streets of the Historic Quarter on the other. 

The View From Above

Upon our return to tour the tower, we accessed it via Calle Cardenal Herrero and passed through the Puerta del Perdón, also known as the Gate of Forgiveness. Allegedly, pilgrims passing through this special passage received forgiveness for all their sins. The opulent Baroque-style vaulted ceiling is adorned with intricate plasterwork that includes cherubs, episcopal heraldry, tondos (circular reliefs with the images of the four Evangelists), and garlands of blue and gold flowers.

Crafted from pine and adorned with gorgeous geometrically patterned bronze plaques, the towering doors of the Gate of Forgiveness bear commemorative inscriptions as well as an elaborate door knocker. 

There’s no elevator, and the ascent is 191 steps. It was manageable, though, for a couple of middle-aged guys in decent shape. Besides, you can pause at various levels on your way up if you’d like. 

At one such place, we stopped to look down at a shimmering metal dome, before realizing it was the top of the old minaret! 

The minaret’s original cupola, adorned by a Christian cross, can be seen as you climb the bell tower.

The magnificent views of town and the Patio de los Naranjos definitely make the tower worth adding to your itinerary. Stop to gaze out on each side, gaining a different but equally impressive vista from every direction.

Who’d have thought that this what the rooftop of the cathedral looks like?!

Wally preferred the fourth tier, where you can marvel at the machinations of the bell chamber. Each bell has a different tone and name — La Esquila, La Asunción and San Zolio, to list a few. Some are marked with their year of manufacture and some bear the insignia of the bishop who commissioned their casting. 

Each of the bells is said to have its own nickname.

Don’t worry. Wally was just pretending the bells were ringing. 

While gazing out at the city, we couldn’t help but notice a sweet aroma of caramelized sugar wafting up from the street below. After we had climbed back down, we walked along the street to investigate — and determined that it had originated from Sabor de España, a confectionery shop. It specializes in treats, prominently featuring glossy cherry-red candied apples in their street-side window, along with caramelized nuts and turrón nougat.

Verdict: Make time to visit the bell tower. The panoramic views of the city are worth experiencing and for us, it was the perfect way to wrap up our day of sightseeing in this wondrous city. –Duke

 

Museo de Bellas Artes de Córdoba: Local Artists Through the Ages

Looking for things to do in Córdoba, Spain? Take a detour at the Cordoba Museum of Fine Arts and explore the city’s historic and artistic legacy.

The Cordoba Fine Arts Musuem is unassuming but provides an educational diversion for an hour or so. One gallery is dedicated to the works of sculptor Mateo Inurria and his works, including Les Tres Edades de la Mujer (The Three Ages of Woman) from 1923.

While looking for things for Wally and me to do beyond the remarkable Mosque-Cathedral of Córdoba, I stumbled upon an image of a room featuring a vibrant yellow totemic sculpture. The picture, which intrigued me, was from the Turismo de Córdoba website and was one of the galleries inside the Museo de Bellas Artes de Córdoba (Cordoba Fine Arts Museum). 

Colt Fountain in Plaza del Potro is an homage to the livestock that was once sold here.

Plaza del Potro: Where Livestock (and Sex) were Sold

The modest museum is tucked into a courtyard off the Plaza del Potro (Colt Square) and a short walk from where we were staying at Los Patios del Pañuelo. While commonly called a square, the plaza has evolved over time and is now a rectangle that stretches down to the Guadalquivir River. It contains two monuments: a fountain crowned with a sculpture of a rearing colt (hence the “potro” in its name), balanced atop a pineapple-shaped vase, and a statue of the archangel San Rafael, the city’s patron saint. 

Fun fact: Once a bustling hub for livestock traders, artisans and travelers, the square included the Posada de Potro (Colt Inn), a medieval brothel that was frequented by celebrated Spanish novelist Miguel de Cervantes. The author mentions the inn in his novel Don Quixote, referring to it as a “den of thieves.”

Sadly, the inn (a nicer way of saying whorehouse?), has since closed. Today, the storied property is home to the Centro Flamenco Fosforito, a small museum dedicated to renowned singer, Antonio Fernández Díaz, aka Fosforito, and the art of flamenco. 

To reach the museum, Wally and I went through a passage on the exterior of the former Franciscan Hospital de la Caridad (Charity Hospital), where the words “Museo Provincial de Bellas Artes” are carved in stone above the doorway. Once inside, we found a peaceful courtyard with a fountain surrounded by orange trees and a pair of busts. One pays homage to the museum’s first director, painter Rafael Romero Barros, while the other honors novelist, diplomat and politician Juan Valera. 

You enter the museum courtyard through the arched doorway seen here, underneath the fancy writing.

Andalusia is filled with charming courtyards, and this one doesn’t disappoint, with its beautiful stonework paths.

The museum’s collections span centuries and encompass paintings, drawings, sculptures and engravings by Cordoban artists from the 16th to the 21st century. 

After purchasing our entrance tickets, we noticed the bronze head of Gonzalo Fernández, the “Gran Capitán,” attributed to sculptor Mateo Inurria. 

Fernández earned his nickname “the Great Captain” by leading successful campaigns during the Conquest of Granada and the Italian Wars while serving the Catholic Monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella.

Cabeza de Gonzalo Fernández de Córdoba para el Monumento al Gran Capitán (Head of Gonzalo Fernández of Córdoba for the Monument to the Great Captain) by Mateo Inurria, 1915

Notice how the head of this statue is marble while the rest of it is bronze? The original metal head can be found in the Fine Arts Museum, though we’re not sure what prompted this odd decision.

Fun fact: This is the original head of an equestrian monument in la Plaza de las Tendillas, the town’s main square. For some reason, it was replaced by a head sculpted from white marble, in contrast to the rest of the figure.

You can start your exploration of the museum by turning left into the room covering the Baroque period and seeing religious art reappropriated by the government.

The Baroque in Córdoba 

We began our tour of the museum in Room IV, which held a number of impressive ecclesiastical works made at the height of Baroque painting in Córdoba. During this period, artists like Antonio del Castillo y Saavedra embraced naturalistic realism, employing chiaroscuro—the use of light and dark to emphasize the emotional narrative in their works. 

Inmaculada Concepción (Immaculate Conception) by Juan Antonio de Frías y Escalante, 1667

El Sacrificio de Isaac (The Sacrifice of Isaac) by Antonio del Castillo y Saavedra, circa 1650

The majority of these artworks were acquired from convents during La Desamortización, a period from 1835 to 1868, when the Spanish government seized monastic properties belonging to the Catholic Church, turning them into “national assets,” which were then sold at public auction to the highest bidder.  

One of the most coveted artistic projects after 1600 was the creation of 24 paintings for the altars of the cloister at the Franciscan Convent of San Pedro el Real by Antonio del Castillo. These canvases depict episodes from the life of Saint Francis de Assisi. In the museum’s painting, the scene depicts an angel holding the newborn saint above a baptismal font. 

Bautismo de San Francisco de Asis (Baptism of Saint Francis of Assisi) by Antonio del Castillo y Saavedra, circa 1664

Fun fact: The oil painting is signed “Non fecit Alfar” (Alfaro didn’t do it). This signifies that Castillo won the commission over his competitor, Juan de Alfaro y Gámez. How delightfully petty!

Bendición Sánchez by Julio Romero de Torres, 1904

The 18th and 19th Centuries in Córdoba 

The next gallery we visited contained works from the 18th and 19th centuries, predominantly featuring local landscapes, portraits and still lifes by the museum’s founder, Barros. 

Bodegón de Naranjas (Still Life With Oranges) by Rafael Romero Barros, 1863

The Baroque style eventually yielded to Rococo, and around 1775, in the wake of the Lisbon earthquake, it shifted once more, leading to a wave of local artists embracing Romanticism. Around this time, the Escuela Provincial de Bellas Artes was established, and within its walls, Barros emerged as a prominent figure. 

Barros assumed a dual role as both director and mentor to a group of art students, including Tomás Muñoz Lucena, Rafael Hidalgo de Caviedes and Inurria. Among them were his sons, Enrique, Rafael and Julio Romero de Torres.

Un Recuerdo de África, Novia Sefardí (A Memory of Africa, Sephardic Bride) by Rafael Romero Barros, 1878

Columbus Leaving the Mosque by Rafael Romero Barros, 1886

The painting Columbus Leaving the Mosque by Rafael Romero Barros was inspired by a poem by the Duke of Rivas titled “Romance of a Great Man.” It depicts Columbus leaving the Mosque-Cathedral after prayer and encountering his future mistress, Beatriz Enríquez de Arana, for the first time. According to legend, she brought Columbus to her home to protect him from mocking children who regarded him as a madman for seeking royal backing for his voyage to the New World.

We were pleasantly surprised to discover there was quite a large collection of modern art as well.

Art in the Modern Era: 20th Century and Beyond

Throughout the 20th century, local artists changed their styles to suit prevailing tastes, shifting from Realism to Modernism to Regionalism. They drew inspiration from contemporary artists like Rafael Botí, Pedro Bueno and Ángel López, who delved into Impressionism and Fauvism. In contrast, individuals like Antonio Rodríguez Luna and Alfonso Ariza embraced avant-garde movements such as Cubism, Abstraction and Expressionism.

Sin Título (Untitled) by José Duarte Montilla, 1981

El Cante (Flamenco Song) by Julia Hidalgo Quejo, 2005

La Fuente del Patio del Museo (The Fountain in the Museum Courtyard) by Rafael Botí Gaitán, 1990

Mujeres Vela (Sail Women) by Antonio Rodríguez Luna, 1945

A key figure among this group of artists was the sculptor Inurria. The museum has a room dedicated to his works.

Un Náufrago (A Castaway) by Mateo Inurria, 1890

While exploring the gallery, I was captivated by a peculiar painting by Ginés Liébana. His dreamlike piece Buenas Mujeres para ser Caballos (Good Women to Be Horses) was painted in 1979. Liébana creates a surreal scene by combining elements: a woman’s head adorned with a flower-covered hat on a horse’s body. He integrates local landmarks, such as the rearing colt of the Plaza del Potro and the figure of the Archangel Rafael, into this otherworldly landscape.

Buenas Mujeres para ser Caballos (Good Women to be Horses) by Ginés Liébana, 1979

Fun fact: Liébana contributed his distinctive style to Cántico, an avant-garde artistic magazine led by poet Ricardo Molina. The publication used poetry and illustration to challenge the status quo during the Franco dictatorship. 

Faded religious frescos and graffiti scribbled by hospital patients line the staircase.

Stairway to Heaven: Frescoes and Graffiti

The staircase leading to the upper floor includes graffiti that most likely was the work of hospital patients. One of these is a labyrinth with seven concentric circles surrounding a central point—visible beneath a monochromatic mural of Saint Jerome. 

On the rear wall, a religious scene depicts Christ on the Cross between the Virgin and Saint John the Evangelist. Flanking this central image is Saint Jerome, clutching a stone for beating his breast in penitence, and Saint Francis of Assisi in prayer. 

El Retablo de la Flagelación (Altarpiece of the Flagellation of Christ), circa 1500

Gothic and Renaissance Art in Córdoba 

The Gothic movement gained popularity in Córdoba in the late 14th century. However, it wasn’t until the 15th century that painters’ guilds flourished, distinguishing Córdoba from other Andalusian cities, such as Sevilla and Granada.

This environment was conducive to establishing major workshops by artists, including Alonso Martínez, Pedro de Córdoba, Jorge and Alejo Fernández, and Baltasar del Águila. Under the reigns of Charles V and Phillip II, local art underwent a transformation, departing from Gothic influences and embracing new expressions of Renaissance humanism. This worldview focused on the nature and importance of humanity that originated from the study of classical antiquity.

Here you can see an altarpiece from the chapel of a hospital founded in the 14th century by alderman Antón Cabrera and his wife, Beatriz de Heredia. The facility closed down in 1837. 

El Retablo de la Flagelación (Altarpiece of the Flagellation of Christ) is a superb example of the Córdoba school’s work and showcases the unknown artist’s adept use of Renaissance techniques. The composition of the figures reflects the Northern European style, popularized through engravings, and the panel as a whole draws inspiration from a similar painting produced by the German artist Martin Schongauer around 1480. 

Its side panels depict Saint John the Evangelist and Saint Anthony of Padua on the right, and Saint Anthony Abbot and Saint Francis of Assisi on the left, each with their distinctive iconography.

Fun fact: The artwork was initially misattributed to Alonso de Aguilar due to the mistranslation of a document accompanying the piece when it was acquired by the museum in 1866. 

Retrato de Joaquín y Rafael Mir de las Heras Niños (Portrait of Joaquin and Rafael Mir de las Heras Children) by Enrique Romero de Torres, 1905

A Life Fit for a Museum

The final gallery featured the exhibition Museum Worthy Life, dedicated to painter Enrique Romero de Torres (yes, the entire family had serious skills). After his father, Rafael, passed away in 1896, Enrique stepped up to run the museum as the director and curator. His responsibilities for the next 30 years kept him from dedicating himself entirely to painting. But under his direction, the renovations and expansions of the museum were carried out, with him paying for part of the works and donating, along with his brothers, paintings by his father. 

Take a quick lesson in local art history at the Museo de Bellas Artes de Córdoba, from Baroque to modern.

Listen, there are a lot of things you’ve gotta do in Córdoba, including La Mezquita, the Alcázar and the Palacio de Viana (not to mention taking a picture of the Roman Bridge). But if you have some free time, I recommend visiting this museum. Admission is only 1.50 euros (about $1.60) and is free to EU passport holders. The curation of each gallery is well thought out, ensuring an easy and enjoyable experience. Plus it’s a cool experience that will expose you to the artistic talents of Córdoba. –Duke

Museo de Bellas Artes de Córdoba 

Plaza del Potro, 1
Centro, 14002
Córdoba
Spain

 

The Mezquita: Córdoba’s Mesmerizing Mosque-Cathedral Hybrid

The Great Mosque of Córdoba, a UNESCO World Heritage site in Andalusia, endures as a monument to Spain’s cross-cultural harmony. 

Ancient Rome, Islamic Spain and Catholicism all come together in the breathtaking Mezquita in Córdoba.

It’s all about those arches. They seem to multiply into infinity, creating a seeming mirror maze of red and white latticework. It’s one of the iconic images that make Córdoba a must-visit stop on any trip to the south of Spain. 

The Mezquita in Córdoba is the perfect symbol of what Duke and I love about Andalusia. You have Roman influences, Islamic stylings and a Roman Catholic overlay. It’s a magical part of the world, where these three cultures blend together into architecture that can’t be found anywhere else but southern Spain. 

Case in point: Córdoba’s Great Mosque, known as the Mezquita, perpetually rising from its ashes like a phoenix over 10 centuries through a fascinating interplay of Roman, Islamic and Christian construction. 

“King Carlos I lamented his decision to allow the construction of the cathedral, saying, “They have taken something unique in all the world and destroyed it to build something commonplace.”

That’s a bit harsh.”

Parts of the massive structure’s exterior retain their Islamic architecture.

Abd ar-Rahman and the Start of the Mezquita

To understand Córdoba and the history of this amazing structure, we must travel to the Middle East and meet Abd ar-Rahman I, a member of the Umayyad dynasty in Damascus, Syria. Things aren’t going so well for the prince. His family was massacred by the Abbasids, rivals for Islamic rule, and Abd ar-Rahman fled, hiding out in the farthest corner of the Muslim world. That is, the south of Spain. 

He ended up in Córdoba. After wresting control of the city from the Visigoths, Abd ar-Rahman began eyeing the church of San Vicente, the largest in town. Not surprisingly, it had been been built upon the ruins of a Roman temple (you’ll notice a trend). Abd ar-Rahman purchased half of the church from the Christians to start, before eventually buying the rest. 

Then, in 786 CE, he tore down the church to construct his most important project: a massive cathedral mosque. 

The History of the Mezquita

The designers ran with those mesmerizing horseshoe arches, a style borrowed from the Visigoths, placing them atop recycled columns from the original Roman ruins. The distinctive red and white is a result of alternating brick and stone. The repetition of the arches was an attempt to evoke the infinite nature of Allah. I’d say they succeeded. 

“The aesthetics of the new Cordoban mosque, to which Muslims from far and wide throughout history would forever write odes, was typically Anadusian from the start: part adaptation of local, vernacular forms and part homage to Umayyad Syria, forever the source of hereditary legitimacy,” María Rosa Menocal writes in The Ornament of the World. 

“The Cordoba mosque continued to be built, and added to, for the next 200 years, until nearly the year 1000, but the characteristic look of the place, the horseshoe arches that sit piggybacked on each other, themselves dizzyingly doubled in alternations of red and white, were established from the start,” she continues.

Abd ar-Rahman II, great-grandson of his namesake (792-852), expanded the Great Mosque and added a new mihrab, a niche where Muslims face to pray. 

Then, Abd ar-Rahman III (891-961) enlarged the patio and built a new minaret, which stood 130 feet (40 meters) tall. 

All those red and white arches, designed to mimic infinity, are truly hypnotic.

His son, Al-Hakam (915-976), continued his father’s work — in fact, he’s responsible for the most impressive renovation of the space. He had new columns built, alternating pink and blue marble. Domes were added to let in light, while painted wood beams decorated the ceiling. The 11 naves were extended, and a larger qibla wall built (this is supposed to be the cue to facing Mecca, but more on that later). Oh, and there was a secret passage for the caliph to enter the mosque from his adjoining palace. 

Gorgeously painted wooden ceiling beams

At the end of the 10th century, Córdoba had become a bustling city. To accommodate the growing population, Almanzor (938-1002) made the courtyard bigger and added eight naves. These are the most austere of the bunch. Ultimately, the Mezquita could hold 40,000 worshippers. It was the largest mosque in the world at the time. 

It wasn’t just used for prayer, though; it was the center of Cordoban life. Judges made rulings near the mihrab. Teachers taught children under the arches. And traveling pilgrims were allowed to sleep there. 

Religious Reversal: From Mosque to Cathedral

In 1236, King Ferdinand III conquered Córdoba, returning the city to Christian rule. The mosque transitioned to the cathedral of Santa María, even as many Islamic elements endured. The Main Chapel is located under the skylight. 

King Henry II built the Royal Chapel to provide tombs for Castilian monarchs. This was done in the Mudéjar style, a delightful blend of Gothic and Islamic, using Muslim architects and carpenters. 

An area with pointed arches was built to give light and height for the choir as well as the church bigwigs. 

The structure remained largely the same until 1528, when King Carlos I gave permission to tear out the center of the mosque to build a proper cathedral, much to the dismay of many in Córdoba. Turns out he ended up agreeing with them. When the king visited, he lamented his decision, saying something along the lines of, “They have taken something unique in all the world and destroyed it to build something commonplace.” 

That might be a bit too harsh. This is still one impressive place of worship.

The choir stalls were built in the Baroque style of mahogany wood from Cuba. As in many Catholic churches, naves line the walls, containing small chapels. 

(FYI: Much of this history comes from a kid’s book we bought in town: La Mezquita de Córdoba by Manuel González Mestre, with fun illustrations by Jacobo Muñiz López.)

The Mihrab: Where Intricate Beauty Meets Spiritual Significance

While wandering the Mezquita, look for the mihrab. Among the monument’s ornate riches, none capture the cross-cultural transformation quite like the exquisite mihrab, located along the back wall on the right side. It’s considered the most sacred part of a mosque. 

Strangely enough, though, this qibla doesn’t actually indicate Mecca. Instead, it faces south. One theory is that it was a reference to the direction where Mecca would be from Abd ar-Rahman’s hometown of Damascus. Then again, it’s also thought that the streetscape didn’t allow for the qibla to face east as it should have, and instead was chosen to align with the Guadalquivir River.

When Córdoba was conquered by the Christians, they not only repurposed the mosque, they also recognized the mihrab’s beauty and spiritual importance — and actually preserved it! It’s a surprising moment where two faiths coexist within the same sacred space.

Intricate mosaics, geometric patterns and calligraphy intertwine to create a tapestry of colors and shapes that leaves visitors in awe. 

The Patio de los Naranjos: An Oasis of Tranquility

Chances are you’ll begin your exploration of the Mezquita in the Patio de los Naranjos, the Courtyard of the Orange Trees. For one thing, it’s where you line up to buy tickets. 

This tranquil oasis, with its fragrant blossoms and centuries of history, offers a contrast to the architectural wonders inside. And it’s not just orange trees — there are also olive trees, palms and cypresses. 

In its long history, this courtyard been a place for reflection, prayer and community gatherings. And there was a section where Muslims would perform their ablutions, or ritual cleansings, before entering the mosque. 

Visiting the Mezquita

Recognizing the Mezquita’s cultural and historical importance, UNESCO designated it a World Heritage Site in 1984. This status is a testament to the ongoing efforts to protect and preserve the architectural marvel, ensuring that future generations can continue to be inspired by its grandeur.

Pro tip: The early bird gets the arch. 

We went early in the morning to see the Mezquita before mass was held. It’s free, so you don’t need to bother with tickets. (If you don’t go at this time, be sure to get your tickets as soon as possible. They cost 13 euros. I think it’s a good idea to book a day in advance if you have the time, but most travel sites say you don’t need to worry about it selling out. Call me paranoid.)

We figured the pre-mass time was a good way to escape the massive tour groups that would invade the space later in the day. To do so, you don’t go through the Patio de los Naranjos as you normally would. You enter through the Puerta de Santa Catalina. The one downside is that you don’t have a lot of time to explore. Get there right at 8:30, cuz security guards will kick you out around 9:20 so mass can begin. 

This trick is considered the worst-kept secret in Córdoba, so keep in mind that word has gotten out. But it’s still supposed to be better than most other times. If you can’t make it early, or want more time, try booking the end of the day.

More Metamorphoses: Temple to Church to Mosque to Cathedral 

Like the ceaselessly repurposed structures within its walls, the Mezquita represents the fluid nature of Spain’s cultural and religious history. As both mosque and church, this house of worship symbolizes Andalusia’s legacy as a place where Ancient Rome, Islam and Catholicism converge. For over 10 centuries, the awe-inspiring Mezquita has shifted shapes and uses but has endured. That’s typical of this wondrous part of Spain. –Wally

Saints, Statues and Semana Santa: A Tour of Iglesia de Santiago Apóstol’s Treasures

The oldest church in Málaga has a Picasso connection and is home to legendary Holy Week statuary, including El Rico, who pardons prisoners, and El Cristo de Medinaceli, who grants wishes.  

This figure depicts the Immaculate Conception of Mary. She stands atop a crescent moon and the world. Her left foot crushes a serpent, symbolizing the original sin assigned to all humans since Adam and Eve—except, of course, to the pure Virgin. 

You could easily walk past the exterior of the Parroquia de Santiago Apóstol without realizing the wonders that lie within. The church, which is dedicated to Saint James the Apostle, is located on Calle Granada and was under restoration when Wally and I visited our friends Jo and José in Málaga, Spain in 2015. We strolled by it multiple times, completely unaware of its spectacular interior and ended up buying a few whimsical wire and black glass marble ants from a street artist who had set up shop on a mat across from it.

The church’s wooden doors feature viera, or scallop shells, the symbol of Saint James. 

Eight years later, we were back in Spain, and Jo and José suggested adding it to our itinerary. We’re fortunate to know some locals, and we’re never disappointed by what they share with us. Plus, Wally and I love visiting old Catholic churches. These places are not just architecturally stunning; they’re usually brimming with vivid devotional art. And it goes without saying that Spain takes this to a whole other level.

The pointed brick arch of the central doorway framed by tiles arranged in a geometric pattern is all that remains of the former mosque.

From Mosque to Gothic Church 

After digging around a bit, I found out that this particular church was the first and oldest of the four parishes commissioned in Málaga by the Catholic Monarchs, Isabella and Ferdinand II. In fact, it dates back to 1509. The structure fuses Isabelline Gothic (a late Gothic/early Renaissance style) with Mudéjar elements and was established on the site of a mosque during the early stages of the city’s Christian conquest. Remnants of the former mosque were incorporated and are visible in the façade, particularly in the central doorway, where an elegant pointed arch is framed by tiles arranged in a geometric pattern that reads as floral. This arch would later evolve into the distinctive Gothic rib vault. In keeping with Islamic tradition, a minaret was built adjacent to the mosque, which was converted into the church’s bell tower during the late 16th century.

A view of the ornate central nave, dome and altar. The carved central altarpiece holds a likeness of the church’s patron, Santiago Apóstol aka Saint James.

the Interior of the Church of Santiago 

Inside, the Gothic style reveals itself in the vaulted ceilings and chancel of the central nave, which comprises the sanctuary, altar, choir and main chapel. The late 18th century saw the addition of two more naves, embellished in the Baroque style. The handsomely carved altarpiece is fashioned from polychromed (painted in many colors) and gilded wood, and the central niche holds a realistic statue of its patron saint, Santiago Apóstol (Saint James).

A depiction of Mary as the Queen of Heaven

Legend has it that following the death of Christ, James traveled to Galicia in northern Spain to spread the word of Christianity. However, things took a dark turn upon his return to Jerusalem — he was beheaded under King Herod’s order, becoming the first disciple to be martyred.

Málaga local Picasso was christened in this baptismal font, located near the entrance of the church. 

Fun fact: Pablo Picasso was christened in this church on November 10, 1881, and his baptismal certificate is kept here. Although his family moved to A Coruña in the Galicia region of northwest Spain when the artist was 9 years old, he always considered himself a malagueño, that is, someone from Málaga. 

This diminutive likeness of the Virgin Mary, Nuestra Señora del Pilar (Our Lady of the Pillar), stands atop a small column. You can’t see it because it’s covered by the red and gold mantle. 

A Tour of the Art and Semana Santa Statues of Parroquia de Santiago Apóstol

Among the significant religious artworks that can be found in the church’s naves is the Virgen de las Animas (Virgin and the Souls) by Juan Niño de Guevara, a large oil painting depicting the Mary comforting souls condemned to Purgatory. According to popular tradition, the faithful offer prayers to the image and leave bottles filled with lamp oil to keep the flames of the glass votives burning in perpetuity for the souls doing penance before being able to enter the kingdom of Heaven.

This oil painting, Virgen de las Animas (Virgin and the Souls) by Juan Niño de Guevara depicts Mary seated on a throne of clouds, comforting souls condemned to Purgatory. 

Additionally, the statues of the Cofradía del Rico and Hermandad de la Sentencia religious brotherhoods are kept inside this church year-round, except during Semana Santa (Holy Week). That’s when they’re placed on massive tronos, quite literally thrones, weighing up to 2 tons and are carried through the streets of Málaga by penitents and members of their religious fraternity.

This nave holds the processional images of Jesús de la Sentencia (Jesus of the Judgement), María Santísima del Amor Doloroso (Holy Mary of Sorrowful Love) and San Juan Evangelista (Saint John the Evangelist) which belong to the religious brotherhood of the Hermandad de la Sentencia. 

There are the venerated mannequin-like processional figures of María Santísima del Amor Doloroso (Holy Mary of Sorrowful Love) and Jesús El Rico (Jesus the Rich). To impart a heightened sense of realism, glass was used for the eyes, hair for the eyelashes and ivory for the teeth. 

Jesús El Rico (Jesus the Rich) hides behind María Santísima del Amor Doloroso (Holy Mary of Sorrowful Love), which belong to the brotherhood of the Cofradía del Rico. El Rico pardons one prisoner each year.

The Ultimate Get Out of Jail Free Card 

El Rico has extended pardons as an act of grace every Holy Wednesday, a tradition that traces its roots back to 1759. The practice of extending a second chance to a prisoner originated during the plague epidemic that swept across Europe during the reign of Carlos III. 

It’s said that a riot erupted after inmates learned that Holy Week processions would be canceled due to contagion fears. In response to the news, prisoners mutinied, broke out of jail and carried the life-sized statue of Jesus through the streets of Málaga, praying for salvation from the plague. Rather than fleeing afterward, they chose to return to prison. Impressed by their act of piety, the king decided to grant the Cofradía del Rico brotherhood, the guardians of El Rico, the right to release one prisoner every year. To this day, El Rico symbolically performs this act.

On the first Friday of March, the venerated figure of El Cristo de Medinaceli is taken from his niche, redressed and placed upon a gilded platform. Devotees kiss his feet, leave three coins and make a wish for each — only one of which will be granted.

Make a Wish Foundation

If these treasures in this historic church aren’t enough to pique your interest, there’s one more notable devotional figure worth mentioning within the Iglesia de Santiago Apóstol: El Cristo de Medinaceli (Christ of Medinaceli). It received its name because the original was owned by the Duke of Medinaceli.

Every first Friday of March, devotees queue up outside the parish doors and wait their turn to kiss the statue’s feet. They also place three coins — they have to be of the same value — at his feet and make three different wishes. Be careful, though: Only one of your wishes will come true.

One of the most dramatic aspects of the Iglesia de Santiago Apóstol (and that’s saying something!) is the blue hue of this elaborate dome. 

This relief depicts a crowded take on the Last Supper. 

If you’re in the neighborhood, and you don’t stop by and admire the Semana Santa statues here, you’ll wish you had. –Duke

Iglesia de Santiago

Calle Granada, 78
29015 Málaga
España

 

From Bishop’s Manor to Boutique Haven: Los Patios del Pañuelo in Córdoba

Looking for places to stay in Córdoba, Spain? You’ll count your blessings when you experience the tranquil beauty of this sanctuary-like lodging in the Casco Antiguo, or Old Town. 

The entrance patio is furnished with a sofa, a set of barrel chairs and a low table. Because it was right outside the door to Apartment 2, we liked to think of it as ours — but were willing to share if need be.

There are certain places that leave a lasting impression long after you’ve left, and without a doubt Los Patios del Pañuelo is one of them. The aparthotel (get it? It’s sort of an apartment complex, sort of a boutique hotel!) is located within the UNESCO-listed Casco Antiguo, the historic Old Town of Córdoba, Spain and is where Wally and I recently stayed for two nights. Perhaps it was the weathered but rather grand brick arcades that reflect the passage of time, or the monastic tranquility of its communal courtyards, with their softly gurgling fountains. Or maybe, just maybe, it was its prime location. It’s close to the city center and less than a five-minute walk from the Mezquita, Córdoba’s magnificent mosque-cathedral. 

“When building the complex, the owners sought to unify three properties. The result is a harmonious blend of contemporary conveniences, restored period details, natural materials and exquisite craftsmanship.”

Wally leans against the Los Patios complex’s exterior wall in one the narrow pedestrian lanes that make Córdoba so charming — and provide a respite from the heat.

Finding Los Patios del Pañuelo

On the afternoon of our arrival, our cab driver dropped Wally and I off on Calle Rey Heredia and directed us to an opening between the shops, which marked the entrance to Calle Osio, the pedestrian-only passage where Los Patios del Pañuelo is located. The cobblestone thoroughfare is named after Hosius aka Osio, who was the first bishop of Córdoba from 295-357 CE.  

Before it was renamed for the cleric, the street bore the name Espalda de Santa Clara, which referred to the defunct Convento de Santa Clara. A 3-by-3-inch hand-painted tile displaying its old name remains securely affixed to one of the walls off the street. Osio is spelled out in tiles to the right, but only the O and S peek out from behind a circular red and white sign. We were a bit perplexed as we tried to orient ourselves.

Look closely: The mitre and crozier, symbols of a bishop, are visible above the entrance to Los Patios del Pañuelo.

Adding to our confusion was the irregular order of street numbers. As we were walking along the street in search of number 10, with our suitcase in tow, we came to a halt in front of a white powder-coated steel screen with the word “Patios…” laser-cut into it. Although the address didn’t match, we glimpsed a courtyard beyond and decided to ring the doorbell at the adjacent door. To our surprise, a short, older woman, in the midst of dyeing her hair, greeted us with a warm smile and a towel around her neck. She chuckled and told us to continue a bit farther up the street. We thanked her and resumed our journey. 

An interior window acts as a perfect frame for a view of the gorgeous courtyard beyond.

Eventually we found Los Patios del Pañuelo and entered the keyless security code we had been provided with prior to our arrival. Los Patios sits within the two-story 17th century manor that was the former residence of the aforementioned bishop, which extends into two adjoining properties (a mitre and crozier, the liturgical headdress and ceremonial staff of a bishop, can be seen above the entrance). 

Its name comes from Calleja del Pañuelo, the narrow alley that runs behind the last of the complex’s three interior courtyard apartments. If you’re as curious as I was about the name, it roughly translates to Handkerchief Alley. This is because the passageway’s width measures around 20 inches, or 50 centimeters — no wider than a fancy gentleman’s or a lady’s lace handkerchief, which was once a must-have accessory for high society.

A kinetic modern painting depicting the nativity, with Joseph, Mary and baby Jesus, by Kiko Flores, is displayed on the first patio and is a ode to the building’s previous life. 

Beyond the heavy wooden doors is a foyer with a reception desk and a set of numbered wall boxes corresponding to the apartments, where you can securely stash your key when you leave for the day. I found this feature to be liberating. A concierge, Maria, was present when we arrived to complete our check-in, and either herself or Judit can be easily reached during off-hours via WhatsApp.  

The living room area in Apartment 2, looking at the kitchen. We loved the zen-like calm the space evoked, and details like the wood-beamed ceilings.

A Stay in Apartment 2

Wally and I stayed in apartment 2, Antonio Jesús. Each of the 13 apartments has been named for the owner’s numerous children in order of age. The 14th bears his and his wife’s name, Antonio and Mati. 

Our apartment was equipped with air conditioning and situated on the ground floor off the first patio. We had an inviting outdoor seating area with a fountain, reached through the flat’s sliding glass doors. It served as a welcome retreat from the crowds and sweltering heat. During our three-day visit in early October, the city sizzled at a scorching 93°F (33°C). 

Clean lines and sleek cabinetry keep the kitchen uncluttered.

Upon entering the flat, we found a welcome basket filled with a carton of juice, milk, a loaf of brioche, and single-serve packets of olive oil, marmalade and Nutella placed on the coffee table in the living room and kitchen. The kitchen runs along one wall. It’s small but was equipped with a Nespresso coffeemaker, refrigerator, radiant electric cooktop and a washing machine, all neatly concealed within custom-made cabinets. 

This was the bedroom we chose to sleep in.

Apartment 2 has a second bedroom.

The muted palette matches the natural, earthy tones of weathered brick and stone of the courtyard, while the high, lofted ceilings evoke a distinctly Moorish influence. The bedrooms, serene and cozy, with thick stone walls and luxurious beds, afforded us a restful night’s sleep. 

The small but modern bathroom in Apartment 2

I admired the details throughout the apartment: the exposed wooden beams, natural stone floors, linen curtains and plaster walls. In addition, the bathroom features a rain shower and is stocked with orange and cedarwood-scented body care products by Rituals. 

Period details like the brick arches and columns were restored during the renovation and came from the nearby ancient city of Madinat al-Zahra. Be sure to explore each patio to appreciate each one’s unique beauty. 

A Heavenly Blend of Historic and Contemporary

When building the complex, the owners enlisted the expertise of local firm Amas Studio to unify the properties. The result is a harmonious blend of contemporary conveniences, restored period details, natural materials and exquisite craftsmanship.

During our stay, Wally and I explored the complex, which is divided into three zones. The first patio (we liked to think of it as ours) has columns with rounded Tuscan capitals, exposed sand-colored brick, and a square fountain. 

Every corner of Los Patios del Pañuelo pays homage to its past. This includes a stone fountain adorned with lion heads in the second terrace — an original fixture that’s been lovingly restored. 

The other courtyards feature columns topped with Arabesque designs. The second one has an octagonal fountain with a bowl adorned by four lion’s heads spouting water, encircled by a meticulously arranged mosaic created from thousands of rounded black and putty-colored river rocks, arranged into a pattern that radiates like sunbeams.

The best-kept secret of Los Patios is the balcony off the meeting room. The charming concierge recommended we go up there with some drinks to enjoy the sunset.

Los Patios del Pañuelo offers the advantage of catering to both short visits and extended stays and was the perfect home base for us. If you’re searching for a great place to spend a few days or more in Córdoba, your search can end here. –Duke

The name awkwardly translates to The Patios of the Handkerchief, referring to a narrow alley out back.

Los Patios del Pañuelo

Calle Osio 10
14003 Córdoba 
Spain