1) This might oughta be called Death by Escorial — but what a way to go, at the hands of the Eighth Wonder of the World! My goodness, they grow the staircases big and tall over here.
2) The little neighborhood café next door to this hotel makes a good cup of coffee, and they serve it in a cup with a handle, and with delicious croissants. I was sitting near the curb, and some maintenance workers asked me (in English) to move my seat because they were just going to paint a lightpole right behind me. So I happily moved, and enjoyed watching their progress, and banter with the waiter.
3) My journey to El Escorial, which is about 45 minutes by bus from Madrid, involved problems and solutions. When my expected metro line was found to have suspended service, I found an alternate (longer) route to the bus station. When I got off at the wrong bus station and found out I was half an hour away by foot with my entrance time in 15 minutes, I just started power walking (through a beautiful park I would not have seen otherwise, planted with enormous avenues of trees) and got there 14 minutes late.
3a) And they let me in. I take those “We reserve the right” clauses so seriously . . .
Title card from Fire Over England.
4) I had wanted to visit El Escorial not because I knew much about it, or about Philip II for that matter, but because some of the action of Fire Over England (1937) is set there. Raymond Massey plays a reptilian King Philip, thwarting the plans of undercover English spy Laurence Olivier. My beloved Robert Newton (Fix in Around the World in Eighty Days, and he shows up in many favorite films) is the governor of the palace. Back in England, of course Flora Robson is Elizabeth, and Vivien Leigh one of her ladies in waiting. So you see of course I had to go.
You see what I mean about austerity.
5) It’s rare to use the words austere and sumptuous about the same place, but they both apply to El Escorial. The stonework, severe in its grey simplicity, contrasts with the exuberant frescos and other works of art.
My one photo in the basilica before being chastised by a guard.
6) My first stop was the basilica, in which someone was playing the organ intermittently. (It didn’t sound like a rehearsal either. What a treat!) Every detail of this was grand, overpowering, but also a study in contrasts. I wish I could show you the frescos on the ceilings, just amazing.
6a) Glad I got the (very good) audioguide as well, because I’d’ve totally passed up the Crucifixion carved by Benvenuto Cellini Himself of white Carrara marble on a black marble cross. It was off in a side chapel, and truly a masterpiece. Apparently it was too heavy for Napoleon’s army to loot.
6b) Again, I wandered into this like a baby duck not knowing much about Philip II beyond Mary Tudor, the Armada, and Raymond Massey. So it was a big surprise that he was such a big deal with the Counter Reformation, particularly about emphasizing and legitimizing the intercession of saints. Two enormous reliquaries flank the altar, one for relics of women dedicated to the Annunciation, the other for relics of men dedicated to St. Jerome. At one time they held thousands of relics of saints (I forget the number), but it’s down to around 300 now due to Napoleonic looting.
6c) The altar is flanked by cenotaphs of Charles V and Philip II and their families, taking the form of statues kneeling in prayer. Philip is shown with all his wives (he had four, but one at a time) except Mary Tudor, which I found interesting and a bit amusing.
8) Next stop, the library, which was across the Courtyard of the Kings and up 40 stone stairs. At the entrance a sign read “Steep steps, no lift.” Again, no photos, so I had a sad, since it’s National Book Lovers Day. But what’s unusual here is that the books are shelved with the spines facing in, so the gold-embossed pages reflect outward — just like what the mad Marchesa Casati used to do with her books after she lost all her money! Such an easy way to create a luxe backdrop!
Outside the library entrance.
9) Exuberant frescos on the ceiling illustrated allegories of Academic Subjects Everyone Was Studying Then But I Can’t Remember Them All Now. Grammar (with a laurel wreath for good students and a whip for those who need more practice, I am not kidding), Mathematics, Astronomy . . . oh mercy, y’all look it up, I can’t remember. But they were beautifully realized, and quite a lot of pulchritude in the borders.
10) Back downstairs and across the courtyard to a waiting room for monastery guests waiting to see the monks, hung with amazing works of art. And then more corridors with more gorgeous frescos.
11) And then the Oh My Gawd Hapsburg Staircase. Would you just look at that?! Sumptuous! It’s a pity I only have eight-foot ceilings at home.
12) And afterward a lot of “Upstairs, downstairs, in my lady’s chamber” on three levels of the palace. The Old Church featured Tintoretto’s masterpiece of the martyrdom of St. Laurence. El Greco’s masterpiece of the martyrdom of St. Maurice stood between the two chapter rooms, themselves hung with priceless paintings. (How I itched to take photos!)
13) Down more stairs into the Pantheon of the Infantes, possibly the most elaborate royal burial suite I’ve ever seen, and a marked contrast to the ossuary at St. Denis in Paris containing what was left of the remains of the Kings of France after the French Revolution. “Built in the 19th century for members of the royal family who were not kings or queens,” its most novel feature was a circular mausoleum for family members who died as children. To me it suggested a birthday cake and, more irreverently, Busby Berkeley’s “By a Waterfall I’m Calling You” with Dick Powell and Ruby Keeler.
14) More sincerely moving to me was Philip II’s private apartments, spare almost in the extreme, beautiful old blue and white Spanish tile, his cabinet of devotional objects, and of course a few paintings, but priceless masterpieces. Curiously his bed could overlook the basilica so he could witness mass when his gout kept him in bed.
15) Finally I came to what is called the Bourbon Palace, an enfilade of rooms decorated with faaaaaaabulous tapestries and Empire furniture. Hmm . . . I was about to say “much more to my own taste,” but I must admit to admiring the bare and spare atmosphere of King Philip’s rooms.
16) And that was it! Three hours (including my power walk to arrive) of activity and stimulation left me absolutely ready for the glue factory. A nice old-fashioned hotel a couple blocks away restored me with a great deal of water, a superb salmon salad, and a ham and egg sandwich “toad in the hole” style, which I somehow thought would be ham and cheese.
The frosted glass windows of the hotel where I lunched all depicted views of El Escorial.
17) My trip back to Madrid was markedly short on drama, and I ended up back at Mérimée for dinner: burrata pugliese and duck confit, delightful.
18) And promenading after dinner, I discovered the “Museum of Tarot,” which led to some interesting browsing.
19) All tuckered out! I expect to sleep soundly.
