I had no idea I would love Córdoba so much.
We stayed in the old city, in an apartment overlooking La Plaza del Potro (the Plaza of the Colt) with its wonderful Renaissance statue of a rearing young horse.
The Plaza was originally a centre for horse trading and all of the sketchy characters that go along with that. It has a literary history that includes a reference in Don Quixote to the Inn that operated in the plaza in the 15th century. It was here that poor Sancho Panza was hurled up and down on a blanket –– tormented because they couldn’t pay their bill.
The Inn is now Centro Flamenco Fosforito, a flamenco museum, considered the best flamenco museum in Andalucia. We listened to recordings by Paco de Lucia, Vicente Amigo, and Antonio Fernandez Diaz –– all master guitarists known for advancing the form. We tried out quizzes about the rhythms and failed miserably. It is foreign to our ears, but so deliciously inviting.
“The Arabs call the experience of aesthetic perfection capable of dragging paroxysm ‘tárab’. It occurs when the artist’s mind strips away from his/her ties and reaches a state of grace; the audience cries, literally tear their clothes and throw chairs; the duende, an emotional load experienced especially by the gypsies (sic), takes hold of the environment. It is the quintessence of flamenco.” (From the Centro Flamenco Fosforito)
Duende is a term that I came across again and again in Spain. It means a heightened state of emotion, expression, and authenticity. It originally connects to a folklore figure, sort of like a gnome or, in J.K. Rowlings’ world, a house elf. But its larger meaning has to do with a tragedy-inspired ecstasy that is usually connected to flamenco. It describes what I was starting to feel in the presence of flamenco, and in Andalucia.
Although our apartment overlooked the plaza, this was off season and it was quiet and private. There were neighbourhood Tabernas that offered simple fare that suited us just fine. The river Guadalquivir runs at the bottom of the street and is a thoroughfare for joggers, bikers, and walkers with and without dogs and children. A Roman bridge spans the river and a huge Roman arch welcomes you into the city.
Córdoba’s history runs deep. Neanderthal remains from 42,000 – 35,000 B.C. have been found here. The Guadalquivir encouraged settlement and the Phoenicians moved in around the 8th Century B.C., soon to be followed by the Romans, Visigoths, and Muslim empires. It is the latter that built up the city as a major centre of power, learning, and influence. In the 9th century C.E., the population was somewhere between 75,000 – 160,000, and by the 10th century it was one of the most advanced cities in the world –– a renowned centre for culture, politics, and finances. There were over 80 libraries and schools.
It was during this period that the huge mosque, La Mezquita, was built by Abd al-Rahman I in 785. The mosque reused some of the Roman and Visigothic materials from previous centuries, which you can see in variety of the capitals of the columns. But while they made use of materials at hand, they did not stint in the use of lapis, gold, and granite.
La Mezquita originally held 1500 worshippers and over the years it was expanded several times by al-Rahman’s sons to the point where, by the thirteenth century, it held 40,000 worshippers. It is open, spacious and incredibly beautiful with its soaring striped arches.
But when Córdoba was “reconquered” (La Reconquista) by King Ferdinand III of Castile in 1236, he put a Catholic cathedral right in the middle of the Mosque.
It feels bizarre — like a life-size playhouse plunked in without any regard for the Islamic architecture. The Cathedral is still a consecrated Catholic Church. As a pilgrim from either religion, you can flow seamlessly from one to the other. La Mezquita and La Catedral were declared a World Heritage site in 1984.
Córdoba was also known as a place of incredible tolerance, where Muslims, Christians, and Jews coexisted for centuries as neighbours and friends. We navigated the narrow winding streets to find the Sinogoga de Córdoba, one of the best preserved of the three surviving Medieval Synagogues in Spain.
It was built between 1314- 1315 and was in use until the Jews were expelled from Spain in 1492. It’s small and was perhaps initially a private synagogue for a wealthy resident. It was obviously influenced by the Arab art and architecture, with intricate and lacing geometric carvings and arches. After we had been there for a few minutes, a group of visiting teenagers coalesced into a circle to dance and sing the Hora. They were giggling, slightly embarrassed, but absolutely charming and full of life.
The Alcazar de los Reyes Cristianos de Córdoba was built in the same period as the synagogue by Alfonso XI. He put it on top of an Islamic-era palace and it, too, maintains the Mujédar influence. It became a fortress by the river that served as a residence for Isabella and Ferdinand. Christopher Columbus had his first audience here with the monarchs. Infamously, it was used as one of the main headquarters for the Inquisition, and the Arab baths were converted into torture chambers.
But today it is calm, gracious and restful. Even in the relative cool of February, with more weeds than flowers, we could appreciate the grandeur of the gardens and how they had been designed to ease the heat of the summer months.
With all of this wealth of history and culture, you can understand why we spent hours exploring local artifacts in the Archeological Museum of Córdoba (built on top of a Roman Amphitheatre) before sitting outside to feast on lemon boqueróns — the delicately flavored white anchovies that are marinated in lemon before being fried. And olives, of course. The best way to understand a place is always through the food.
While we were in Córdoba, we also went to the famous Córdoba Equestre, the international riding school and stables about which Fredrico Garcia Lorca said, “In Córdoba, even the horses have their Cathedral.” The public performances combine the essence of flamenco with dressage. The horses are guided by their riders to execute delicate dance moves that exemplify the artistic height of the relationship between rider and horse. Andalusian horses are a special breed, and the stables in Córdoba have been breeding them since before Columbus set off for America. In fact, Andalusian horses were the breed that Columbus brought with him to the New World.
In those days, the River Guadalquivir was wide and energetic as it flowed into Córdoba. In the centuries since, the river has become silted up and Córdoba eventually lost its supremacy as a city of power and influence. Perhaps that is why I love it so much. There is grandeur without arrogance, and people are amazingly friendly and kind. It’s a city that doesn’t have to prove anything, one that I already long to go back to.
Stepping off the Treadmill 