You're not that holy!

Those (blog post title) were Marjan's words when I pointed out San Rafael near the Roman Bridge. OK so I may not be revered by 'the three culturas' (a locals phrase for Christianity, Judaism and Islam) but surely someone likes me.....a bit?

We had got going earylish, with breakfast at a tiny 'hole in the wall' type place. The coffees are almost always good! The reason for the early rise was to check out La Mezquita for free. They let you in at 8:30 whilst they are still doing work and cleaning, but you save the 8 euros. Mezquita means mosque and it is the mosque that the Christians encountered when they retook southern Spain. They stuck a cathedral in the middle of it, spoiling the lines a little.....well a lot actually.........but really in line with the Muslims who built over a Visigothic church, who built over a Roman temple....and probably back further as well. I love this building, and I keep coming here for the sense of the numinous it gives me. I love this style of architecture that is less ornate and has a beautiful sense of order, balance and symmetry. One day a photo I take will express how I feel about this place, in the meantime I will keep coming back.

By the time we got out it was hot. We had learned our lesson yesterday and had three litres of chilled water in the backpack for the morning. Across the Roman bridge, with the Muslim additions for water regulation and across to Torre De Calahorra, where we saw a cheesy but interesting 'Las Tres Culturas' display. Hope that preached tolerance is practised, here and elsewhere.

By this time it was very hot and we were crawling along, looking for bits of shade, but we visited the Alcazar de los Reyes Catolicos anyway....mostly for the gardens and the sight and sound of water everywhere.

Interesting, by the time we got got it was incredibly crowded waiting to get in.......people just get going late, but by now it was really, really hot. Everybody is very summery, lost of airy and skimpy clothing. We again wandered the old town, looked in to an old mansion that had been converted into a collective artisan workshop/display area, fought off the local gypsies offering a sprig of rosemary....if you accept they then hassle you for money.......bought Dominic a small, totally parent disapproved gift ........found a tea/spice shop our lovely (and young) friend Keyne would have loved......and finally stopped off for some lunch at a little homey place, with a friendly husband and wife team, where we discovered the true place for gazpacho in the Cordoban culinary repertoire....so tasty....so refreshing.....so re-hydrating.......the grilled vegetables and meatballs were merely filling in the corners of our hunger.

The chilled water was gone, the cold beer was gone, the lunch had made us contented and sleepy. Back to our rooms for a nap......it really is too hot.

We did a bit more aimless wandering, around the laneways of the old town....gettinmg lost is so easy with these windy alleys. Anway we ended up by the river where a beer and a salmonrejo, another cold soup, called.

Walking by a bar with a TV I realised that the Spain v USA basketball semi was due to start soon, so I ditched Marjan and headed off to a bar to have a look at the game. Spain lost, but the bar tender was OK, I had kept his tab ticking over for a quiet patch before a few Spanish families started coming in for dinner around 10ish.