When we got there, we got a few suggestions and a hand-marked map from our tour director. We had a few hours to kill, after which, we would have a guided tour of the Toledo Cathedral and a few other buildings of great significance. Somehow, we had to walk through a store first where they sold knives and swords. Sure, it was pretty neat when we watched the craftsmen bang out a sword from heated metal with his hammer and anvil, but when the demonstration took two minutes and the gift shop took 30, Cas once again had occasion to appreciate that he found a woman who does not like to shop. We walked out empty handed, though I did take the opportunity to snap a photo of Cas next to a full suit of armor. We lacked the time (and the permission) to find out who wore it better, but certainly, Cas would have looked pretty great in the head-to-toe battle gear.
The other really silly thing Cas needed to do today was swing past a place called the museum of cheese. There are actually lots of shops around Madrid called The Museum of Ham, but Toledo was the first to feature a museum about cheese. Specifically, it was about Manchego cheese, which is made from sheep milk.
The guided tour was very interesting. Our guide, Carlos can trace his family tree back for many, many generations in Toledo. He had the most excellent timing of any guide I have seen. He managed to walk into a site right as the last group was walking out and find the exact moment when the other half dozen tour groups were just behind us on the way to the bathroom. The guy was magical.
When we left there, we got on the big fancy bus and headed back to Madrid. It’s our last night here, and we decided to try out one of the restaurants Riu recommended. She lives in Madrid, and she has some stated preferences. We went to one that was close by, and we were seated next to a woman who was clearly going for some kind of Guinness record for smoking. She looked to be in her late seventies, though she may well have been my age, and she seemed to light a new cigarette every time the last one was extinguished. She was sitting with a man who had a similar look. One of them had an oxygen tank or some sort of portable air delivery device on wheels. I was glad our chain smoking friend was so careful with her smoldering ashes. A can of compressed gas near a smoker is a little terrifying. Something we have learned about Spain (or maybe it’s just Madrid) is that it takes forever to pay the check at a restaurant. You have to ask for it. Usually, we have had to ask at least twice. Even then, they take a while processing the transaction. It was about fifteen minutes this time, or in case you wanted to measure time in old Cruella de Cigarette terms, it was about two cigarettes. I just know that my hair smells like an ashtray, and we will both be happy for tomorrow morning’s shower.
Speaking of tomorrow. Cas and I have to be up and fed really early so we can take a high speed train to Córdoba. Best to turn in early. Good night!
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