Adventures of a Wandering Thirtysomething

Over the years, I’ve found I get the most joy out of visiting small towns. I love the sleepy lifestyle, the approachability and the simplicity. So, it came as no surprise that I was more excited to visit little medieval Toledo than hang with the hip cocktail sippers in party-hearty Granada.

Set atop a very steep hill, Matt had the brilliant idea of hiking up to our room with our packs on to take in the sweeping views. The town’s escalator system does the hardest part of the hike, thank goodness, but as I powered up the steep, narrow streets dodging sauntering tourists and local traffic, I cursed Matt for his creative transportation ideas that largely end with both of us a sweating, stinking mess.

But once we dropped our heavy packs in our room and headed out to explore, the steep uphill and downhill walks around town added to its charm. Roads wove every which way in typical medieval fashion, giving Matt a run for his money to navigate us through. Little shops touted the town’s popular mazapan desserts, its famed sword making, and its intricate gold leaf jewelry. And the spectacular views overlooked the Tajo River and the well-preserved 10^th century city walls set against a sun-baked, hilly landscape.

The sights were somewhat secondary to the joy of just getting lost in town, but we did explore several including the art museum and the military museum. Despite being sick to death of exploring churches, we also checked out the city’s cathedral. It’s alter and choir room were stunningly gorgeous with several unique details found throughout, but my most favorite part was seeing the gift its sister town of Toledo, Ohio, gave them.

Let me set the scene for you.

The gift was located in the treasury. A Catholic church’s treasury, no matter what church you go into in Spain, is jam-packed with riches of gold, precious stones, reliquaries of well-known saints, and more. This church’s treasury was spectacular, filled with case after case of precious treasures, and its piece de resistance a truly massive monstrance (vessel for carrying the Communion wafer/the host) at least six feet tall and completely covered in gold leaf, precious stones and a core made of 35 pounds of gold.

As the throngs of people stared and snapped photos, my smartass self couldn’t resist sneaking about looking for the gift from Toledo, Ohio, knowing it was highly likely our Ohio brethren probably embarrassed themselves. There in one of the cases, tucked way in the back behind all the bejeweled finery, was the Toledo piece.

An orange rock.

Thank you Toledo, Ohio, you did not let me down. Your multi-millionaire sister had everything a girl could want, so instead of upping the ante you just succumbed to the inevitable and tossed in some forgettable geological specimen to her collection that she felt obligated to display out of pity. Made. My. Day.

The other gem in town was a chocolate shop, Jacinta & Maria Chocolates, run by the most delightful owner. As Matt and I agonized over chocolate bars, the owner inquired about our interest in chocolate and then proceeded to have us sample his homemade mazapan, his homemade potato chips, olive oil cookies, and ice cream, plus directed us to his handmade and deliciously fragrant chocolate bars.

With immense enthusiasm and pride in his products, he gave the story behind each and told us why they were superior to anything else on the market. And he was right. Everything we sampled was delicious and far better than any similar versions we had tasted elsewhere. Even the ice cream, which was a high-quality version made outside of Barcelona, he personalized with a drizzle of liquor. He spun the bottle around to showcase the Four Roses Bourbon label and I laughed out loud, explaining we were from Tennessee and knew all about bourbon and whiskey.

As a grand finale for our experience, he allowed me to select a bookmark and then proceeded to write my name on it in a medieval font so we would forever remember our time at the shop. Needless to say, we walked away with a lot of sweets and a great travel memory. Small towns really are the best.