I am reading a book about poor Juana la Loca, the daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, two sa monarchs whose names will live on. It is a strange feeling, reading about this princess, growing up in this city where I was walking around only a few short weeks ago, these streets which have hardly changed at all down through the centuries. You can feel history here, feel the cobblestones they trod on. This is far from running from place to place, hiding behind a camera lense, trying to record memories that only last if they are attached to the senses: smell the candle wax, hear the birds singing in the courtyard of the old monastery, feel the angle of the street under your street. It helps if you know something about the history of the place to begin with, not just the jottings in the guide book, but what people wrote about back then, what they wore, the pictures they painted. One long look at an El Grecco,will do much more for your senses than any amount read in a guide book. Drink it in. Photos are only a faint reminder.
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