Salamanca: An Embarassment of Riches for the Senses
- jcstift
- Feb 22
- 6 min read
Salamanca, Spain
Companion: Granny
Some places are best experienced by simply being present in the moment, and Salamanca is among those places. It seems as if each street has its own theme song, as there is a street musician around every corner and their music guides people as they stroll. Rather than get out a map and head towards our destinations with purpose, we chose to navigate to the cathedral by looking up and saying “oh, that might be the cathedral” and setting off down whichever twisty street looked like it had the most promising change of leading us there.
This was not a particularly effective method of finding the cathedral, but it did take us past virtually every location we planned to visit and a few bonus places of interest.
Our first stop of the day was Casa de las Conchas. The draw is the unique façade covered in sculpted shells, from which the building gets its name. The concha is the symbol of the Order of Santiago de Compostela, of which the original owner was a knight. It is an example of the Plateresque style of architecture, a style largely unique to Salamanca. The Plateresque stle is noted for its division of facades into three sections, the used of shields in facades, and neoclassical commons.
We discovered Casa de las Conchas is currently a public library and chose to go in and explore. The sounds of a brass ensemble soon began to resonate in the Neoclassical, open-air courtyard around which we strolled and lured us back outside to enjoy the street musicians who had begun to gather.
After making a contribution to the musicians who had provided the soundtrack for our exploration, we walked an short distance and discovered Salamanca University. The oldest university in the Hispanic world, Salamanca University was recognized as one of the world’s four great universities by Pope Alexander IV in 1254, alongside Oxford, Paris, and Bologne. Salamanca clearly remains a college town, with many buildings indicating they provide student housing and young people constantly running into friends in the streets and stopping to socialize as if they are just walking across a campus, which I guess they are.
We engaged in a minimal effort to locate the frog carved into the Edificio de la Escuela Mayores, the primary entrance to the university. Legend has it that one will not graduate from Salamanca University if they cannot find the frog. I don’t need another degree, so I just asked. The frog is quite weathered and is more a vaguely frog shaped knob at this point. It is also far to high for me to have identified it without binoculars. Perhaps these hints will help you if you are inclined to work harder than I was.
Leaving the halls of academia, we followed the sound of an accordion and discovered ourselves in front of the Episcopal Palace. Having been converted to a museum, it is one of the most interesting curations I’ve ever seen. Rather than being organized chronologically or stylistically, it is organized around different attributes of Christ. For example, love or scandal. The audioguide seeks to educate the listener regarding accurate Catholic theology, rather than the artistic style or the various possible interpretations of art. It differs from the usual secular museum guides in that it states theology as a truism rather than in terms of symbols and beliefs. It is extremely well done but has a specific point of view and directs patrons to the correct answer rather than presenting ideas for visitors to assess from their own perspectives.
After departing the Episcopal Palace, we finally arrived at our intended initial destination, the cathedral. Or, more accurately, the cathedrals.
One of the unique characteristics of Salamanca is its two adjoined Cathedrals; the new and the old. The New Cathedral was constructed during the period from 1533 to 1733 and is a combination of the Gothic, Plateresque, and Baroque styles. The New Cathedral was required because the University of Salamanca increased the size of the city, so not only was more room required, the Old Cathedral was (accurately) considered dark and not particularly attractive. Despite initial plans to demolish the Old Cathedral upon completion of the New, the decision was made to retain it and so the two remain connected through the South wall of the New Cathedral.
The New Cathedral is genuinely a marvel with soaring pillars reminiscent of Barcelona’s La Sagrada Familia. The central dome of the New Cathedral is one of the highest in Spain. Of course, given the timeline of the two constructions, it appears Gaudi took some influence from Salamanca.
At the time of construction, gilt was particularly difficult to obtain, so the unadorned art throughout the New Cathedral illustrates the remarkable skill and artistry of Salamanca’s woodcarvers, particularly in the carvings of saints on each of the 70 choir stalls.
Rather than a single organ, two magnificent organs are used during service in a manner that mimics the call and response of priest and congregation. Another interesting point of note is that the New Cathedral incorporates a chapel decorated in the Mudjaher style prevalent in Lisbon, but not otherwise seen in Salamanca.
Departing the New Cathedral directly into the Old Cathedral, we were immediately struck by the dramatic contrast. Where the New Cathedral is light and luxurious, the Old Cathedral is ponderous and austere. Its dominant form of decoration are frescos with captions detailing the stories depicted in the images.
In need of sustenance after our extremely busy morning, we followed the sound of a violin to Plaza Mayor. Constructed for bull fighting, these days Plaza Mayor is reputed to be one of the most beautiful plazas in Spain and the social heart of Salamanca.
The main street leading in to Plaza Mayor is packed with stores selling chocolate, pastries, ham, meat pies, and any number of other attractive looking delicacies. We detoured to purchase toffee dipped grapes, cherry almond nougat, marzipan treats, and hornazos on the way to the plaza. A hornazo is a Salamancan pastry filled with meat, sausage, egg, and spices. It has come to be a symbol of the Castilian culture of Salamanca. We stored ours away to be eaten during the long travel day we had coming up.
Once we reached Plaza Mayor, we settled in for a lunch of croquettes and patatas bravas - with sangria, of course. We made the error, driven by hunger, of opting for the first restaurant next to the entrance arch. It turned out to have rather unexciting food and higher prices – and we discovered later in the day that simply walking a few steps farther would have yielded must more desirable dining options. That said, the sangria met with our full approval, as did sitting down and resting our feet.
Having rested in Plaza Mayor, we set off for St. Stephens. I found St. Stephen’s remarkable in two ways: (1) The cloister/convent was austere and exceedingly simple and modestly adorned, while the church contained some of the most extravagant decor I’ve even seen. Overall, both were places of extreme peace. (2) People associated with St. Stephen’s clearly had a significant role in the colonization of the Americas and the Philippines. A plaque was posted proclaiming that the monks of St. Stephen’s had determined that the original inhabitants of the Americas and Philippines were people and had souls. (Wasn’t that nice of them? Sarcasm intended.) The upper cloister had a significant collection of Native American artifacts, but no meaningful explanation of how they came to be there or why they were on display in a Catholic Monastery. Of particular importance, Mother Theresa frequently confessed at St. Stephens.
Existing St. Stephen’s, we walked below the walled city - where we had a better view of the city wall proceeded walked across a 9th century Roman Bridge. This stroll below the old walled city provided a better vantage point to view Casa Lis, an art deco mansion that had been purchased via forced sale and restored - and now houses a remarkable collection that introduced me to come new favorite artists, particularly the bronze sculptures of Demetre Chiparus and the glass of Emile Galle. No photography was allowed in the museum, so you are just going to have to trust me that Casa Lis is a gem and worthy of your time.
We ended the day by returning to Plaza Mayor and remedying our earlier error, seeking a dining option well away from the most traveled entrance. As we sat munching on a charcuterie board loaded with local hams, cheeses, nuts, and olives, the sun went down and the walls of Plaza were brightly lit in the colors of the Spanish flag. We enjoyed people watching, particularly the children running about the center of the Plaza and occasionally launching themselves at a light post and attempting to climb.
This end to a remarkable day left us relaxed as we returned to our hotel and glanced out our room window at the cathedral glowing under its lights before turning in to rest before the next day’s adventure in Donostia-San Sebastian.
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