Alcázar de los Reyes Cristianos is a 14th-century building right by the Guadalquivir river – Perfect place for a palace. The palace is small but with phenomenal, well-maintained gardens that have been in place for over 1,000 years even preceding the actual palace. The horses of the royal stable were out showing their beauty in the slanted sunlight of early morning. Going through Alcázar and the garden demonstrates an interesting culture of recycling and reuse that I had not paid attention to at La Mezquita: Any of the Roman statues, columns, or construction materials that could be reused were used in the garden or the palace. The same was true about La Mezquita where some of the columns were Roman (and the same about Toledo). Later, when we saw the ruins of Madinat Al-Zahra, we found out that after the fall of the city, some of its construction materials were reused in Seville, over 100 miles away. There are now rules and regulations applying to reusing construction materials, but it is just too easy to pour new concrete. It was a different world back then.
We then drove to Madinat-Alzahra, which was about four miles outside the city. It was the Washington, DC of We then drove to Madinat-Alzahra, which was about four miles outside the city. It was the Washington, DC of the Muslim Caliphs, although for a short period of 65 years. Built as a very impressive administrative city, Madinat-Alzahra was built on a slope by the side of the mountain with a palace on top and the houses of its civil servants below. The caliph would leave the palace and ride with his entourage for a few kilometers every Friday to pray in La Mezquita, which was quite a scene back in the 11th century. Madinat-Alzahra was looted multiple times and was finally buried under mud for hundreds of years until it was revived through excavation, though without the hustle and bustle of its previous life. Only about 12 percent of the city has been excavated and the majority is yet to be revealed.
I had not seen the white storks of Spain until we were in the proximity of Madinat-Alzahra. Hundreds of storks were above our heads and in the pastures around. It reminded me that my mother’s hometown of Tehran was one day host to many white storks. Air pollution and the expansion of the city sent all of the storks away. I distinctly remember the one and only time I saw a stork in Tehran at the age of five. The storks escorted us to our car for our last destination in Andalusia: Granada. The magical Alhambra was waiting as we started driving south.
