Our Visit to Córdoba

The accent mark (flick) above the first 'o' means that you say "COR do ba" and not "cor DO bah" or "cor do BAH" or "COor DOah BAH" (as some US Midwestern folks might try).

In the US, buildings receive landmark status if they are still standing after 50 years. In Córdoba, we looked at, walked by, stepped in, climbed up, wandered through, sat on, drank from, touched and, in one case, almost tipped over hundreds of years of history. It was so cool. Oops. Poor use of words. Córdoba was not cool at all. It was HOT. And, it was awesome - not in the sense of the over-used cliché but in the sense
that we were awed.

One reason we went to Córdoba (in August) was that Margarita, Gabriel, and Nico (my sister-in-law and nephews) were there visiting. Margarita gave us the INSIDE story of Córdoba. Margarita is very knowledgeable about Córdoba (and about Spain and history and the Spanish language, etc.). On the fourth day, we were looking through a book with 200+ photos of Córdoba. For 9 out of 10 of the photos, Bronson said "We were there." or "We saw that." I told Margarita that story. The next day, she tried to cover the remaining sights.




Matthew and I were impressed simply by breathing the ancient air. The kids were not so easily impressed. Once in a while, we had to embellish the historical accounts to keep the kids' attention. Some of the stories were kind of close to the truth. If we mentioned a bloody sword duel between two knights in armor or a beautiful, young girl locked up in a dungeon to pay for the crimes of her father or a traitor dropped into a vat of hot, boiling oil … the kids paid closer attention and were less likely to pine for a swimming pool.

We saw the churches, statues, roman ruins, the Mesquita (mosque/church), 1000 year old streets and houses and flower gardens and fountains and castles. Then, we would go to Chica and Manolo's (Margarita's sister and brother-in-law) house and they treated us like kings and queens. We (myself included) ate snails, muscles, shark … and lived to tell about it!


Most nights while in Córdoba, we did as the locals did … we walked (and walked and walked). They are smart; they don't walk around in the heat of the day. They wait until after 11 pm when the temperatures drop below 30 degrees Celsius (about 92 Fahrenheit). One night near the end of a long walk, Bronson asked, "When are we going to a pub?" He's already starting to think as a Spaniard.