Tuesday, November 21, 2017

1985 (3) – Toledo, Spain

Approaching Toledo

To go to the beginning of this book, Tropic Moon: Memories, click HERE.

We were concerned that Toledo’s history might have been overtaken by civilization, but that wasn't the case.  The Tajo River protects the ancient walled city on three sides.  We wandered the streets of the old city; saw El Greco's house, as well as the museum bearing his name.  We visited a church made famous by the El Greco painting, The Burial of Count Orgaz, which covered one of the walls.  We walked through the mammoth cathedral, and saw such an overwhelming opulence of statuary, paintings, altars and alcoves, as to almost stun the mind.  While most of the church was fairly dim, there was one very bright spot near the front of the cathedral.  Craning my neck, I looked up into a niche that extended well beyond the level of the ceiling.  Marble statues of saints guarded the entrance way, fresco paintings of heavenly scenes could be glimpsed behind the saints, and a window tucked almost out of sight at the top of the niche provided natural lighting for this peek up into the heavens.  

Frank, Marie Anne, and Ed

It was an El Greco painting of this hilled city, which we had once seen in New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art, that had tempted Ed and me to Toledo.  For Frank, it was the fact that Toledo had long been acknowledged as the sword-making capital of the world.  Frank, who collected walking sticks, particularly wanted one with a double-edged sword hidden inside.  (We didn't ask why....)  We found swords in virtually every shop, and the occasional walking stick, but no combination of the two.  Frank was disappointed, as the walking stick had been his main reason for visiting Toledo. 

Toledo, Spain

But then our wanderings took us down a narrow back street where we saw a sign marking the entrance to the sword factory, saying "free entry," and definitely not listed in any of our tourist literature.  A narrow shop fronted the ‘factory,’ displaying swords of various styles (some with marvelously ornate hilts), including rapiers, and even a battle axe or two. The man who waited on us demonstrated the wares by taking a very solid looking sword, resting the tip against the wall, and bending the excellent blade almost double, as if it were made of rubber.  While Frank again couldn't find exactly what he wanted, he did settle for an attractive walking stick with a "stabbing" sword, rather than a "slashing" sword, secreted within. 

Internet Photo.  Polishing the blade of a sword.

We asked to see the factory, and were taken first into a blacksmith's forge where the blades were shaped and tempered, and then into a room with lathes where men were putting the finishing touches on some of the metal hilts.  All the handles were cast in the shop.  Everything was done by hand, or with the most primitive equipment, as it had been done for centuries past.  This small, totally unassuming factory still maintained its worldwide reputation.  They were in the process of packing a case of competition swords for shipment to Australia.  

Toledo.  Another view.

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