Excuse, please, if the two glasses of wine have affected our ability to write this, but this is a town and a time perfect for the leisurely drinking of vino tinto (so glad that we know what this means now, thanks to Kelly. But feeling a bit like Ernest Hemingway, i.e. pickled). The day starts with a buffet breakfast at the hotel — melon, specialty cakes with an amazing fine texture, and a good old Minnesota bottomless cup of coffee. We walk across the city to the Museo de Zuloaga. This ancient church was purchased by an artist in the 20s, who used it as a studio for his ceramics work. Most interesting are the drawings — largely watercolor — he created as sketches for his tile work. Also represented are paintings by nephew Ignacio Zuloaga. The museum is filled with examples of tile work, including a tile bathroom with caballeros marching across the wall, and some dead guys. Who wouldn’t want to buy a 15th century church if given the chance, and install ovens and set to creating and firing things like crazy?
Next to the Roman aqueduct, a key Segovian monument for which the city is famous. Romulus and Remus suck from their adoptive mother while we marvel at the construction of something so big and so old, made entirely without mortar, nails, or any kind of fastener. We stop for a simple lunch and order at random. Turns out to be fresh melon soup and a panini and fried potatoes and beer and Coca Cola. We watch the passing crowds. On the way back to our hotel and to our afternoon rest, was pass the local graphic arts college where everyone is smoking.
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