Concierto de Aranjuez by Paco de Lucia

It may have taken longer to get between Madrid and Segovia, but I saved a lot of time getting to Atocha from my hotel, and from Segovia Estacion to the city centre, or more precisely, the Roman Aqueduct.

If there’s one thing you shouldn’t miss in Segovia – in fact it would be impossible to – is the Roman Aqueduct, and from Segovia Estacion, the No 8 bus left for the short journey to this magnificent structure that towers above the Plaza de Azogusjo (see featured pic above).

Nobody knows exactly when it was built, but it was around the middle of the 1^st century AD, and carried water to Segovia from the Frio River, some 15 kilometres (9.3 miles) away. For those of you who are having difficulty sleeping at night, here are some facts that might help. The bridge is 683 metres (747 yards) long, with 166 arches more than 9 metres (30 feet) high supported on 120 pillars. At its highest point it is 29 metres (95 ft) above ground level and is built using around 20,400 granite blocks without mortar. Now, I’m sure someone is going to try and trip me up on some of these statistics because there are many different figures from many different sources, but I think you’ll find that generally speaking, they’re not far out – and if you’re bothered by the authenticity of these stats then you can always go back to counting sheep instead.

As far as its history after the fall of the Roman Empire is concerned, the Aqueduct continued to supply the city with water until the Moors tried to demolish it during the 11^th century. Thirty six arches were destroyed, but after being restored by the 15^th century Catholic Monarchs, Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand, water started to flow into Segovia again, and did so for another 500 years. In 1985, it was added, along with Segovia’s Old Town, to UNESCO’s World Heritage list, and is without doubt one of the most impressive Roman structures in Spain.

There’s more to this city of 50,000 people than the Aqueduct however, and three streets – Calle Cervantes, Calle Juan Bravo and Calle Isabel la Catolica – lead from the Aqueduct to the centre of the Old Town at Plaza Mayor. Collectively, this series of streets is known as the Calle Real, but I didn’t see anything ‘Royal’ about C. Cervantes. In fact, the first thing that caught my eye was a building in C. Juan Bravo which had a most unusual façade made out of pyramid-shaped granite blocks. I later found out that it houses the Segovia Art School and is called the Casa de los Picos which translates as the ‘House of Spikes’.

A bit further on, and about halfway between the Aqueduct and the Plaza Major, was a lovely old square called the Plaza de Medina del Compo. It’s overlooked by the 12^th century Romanesque Church of San Martin, and although I wasn’t able to go inside (it was only open for morning and evening services) I was more than happy to just sit in the square and soak up the atmosphere with a coffee for a while.

At Plaza Corpus, Calle Isabel la Catolica bears off to the right towards Plaza Mayor and Segovia Cathedral.

Plaza Mayor is Segovia’s main square and the hub of social activity. Fairs, markets and fiestas regularly take place in front of the town hall, and it has a fair sprinkling of bars to stop tourists dying of thirst, but its main attraction for me was the Cathedral.

This building with its fabulously flamboyant exterior was the third Cathedral to be built in Segovia when construction started in 1535. It took 200 years to complete, making it the last Gothic structure to be built in Spain, and quite possibly in the whole of Europe.

The Cathedral’s ornate pinnacles and flying buttresses can be admired from Plaza Mayor, but to really appreciate its grand scale and 90 metre (295 ft) Bell Tower, it’s better to view it from a distance if possible. Unfortunately I didn’t have enough time for wandering too far off the beaten path, especially as I wanted to check out what the interior had to offer as well.

For all its elaborate extravagance outside, the interior, architecturally speaking, was surprisingly plain: I can’t show you what I mean because photography was not permitted, although it doesn’t seem to stop some people judging by the number of images floating around on the internet.

Segovia has three main sights, and after wandering through the Jewish Quarter, I found myself at the third – the Alcazar. Its location, on top of a rocky crag above the confluence of the Eresma and Clamores Rivers, was the site of a Roman castrum, but apart from the foundations, not much else can be seen of the fort today.

The word Alcazar conjures up an image of a Moorish palace, but the structure was started quite some time after the North African Muslims were sent packing by the Iberian Christians. Why the word ‘Alcazar’ was chosen as the name for the home of Christian kings I have no idea. Perhaps somebody can enlighten me.

The oldest part of the palace dates from the reign of Alfonso VIII (1158-1214), who was the first of a long line of Castilian monarchs to call it their home, but it was during the time of the Trastamara Dynasty (1366-1566) that the Alcazar developed into the magnificent spectacle that we see today. They were obviously fascinated by Eastern art, as the Muslim influence can be seen everywhere – from the architecture to the decoration, so perhaps I’ve answered my own question as to why it became known as the Alcazar. Entry to the palace is through the imposing East Tower that John II extended during his reign (1406-54).

I’m guessing that most non-Spanish visitors to the Alcazar will be more intrigued by its appearance than Castilian history, and so I’m just going to concentrate on what people can see when they get here. In some ways, I found the Alcazar a bit like the Cathedral, in as much as I thought that the external architecture was far more exciting than the rooms on the inside, and it seems like I’m not the only one to be struck by its design.

It’s been quoted by several sources that this fortress with its towers and turrets was the blueprint for Disneyland’s original castle in California – and I can certainly see why it might have been.

Philip II was responsible for creating the castle fit for a queen during the 16^th century, but the fairy-tale came to an abrupt end in 1862 when it was devastated by fire. The Prince Charming who came to the rescue was King Alfonso XII who started to restore it soon after he succeeded to the throne in 1874. He was only 28 when he died in 1885 and never quite got to see the finished article when it was completed a year later.

19^th century restoration is never going to look the same as an unrestored medieval fortress, and is one of the reasons that the interior didn’t quite match up to the Alcazar’s amazing exterior. For me, the rooms and layout just didn’t have that magical feel I was hoping for, but that said, the craftsmanship is superb, and I especially liked the ceilings.

The view from the Well Terrace towards the Church of the Vera Cruz got me thinking that if I’d had more time I could have gone down there and taken a look back at the Alcazar which resembles a ship from a distance – but it was a train I needed to head for next.

An overnight stop in Segovia would obviously have been preferable to a day trip, but that was never an option. I don’t suppose everyone will agree, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s better to escape to Fantasyland for a day rather than not visit it at all.