THE rain and morning fog had left the cobblestones of the old bridge too slippery to jog on. I had to get to the other side of the Tagus River to get a real view. I turned and looked.
The city itself sat on the hill like a medieval Oz, the river wrapped around it like a moat. There were two layers of castle walls, festooned with gargoyles, eagles and crests. On top of the bluff was the Alcázar, which looked out over the city's patchwork of Manchegan red clay tile roofs and the spires and belltowers of churches. The bells started to peal, eventually crescendoing to an explosion of noise that sounded like the finale of a fireworks show. It was still very early in the morning. Holy Toledo, I thought.
"That's what the old ladies say -- 'Holy Toledo!' -- when they are walking up and down these streets," my guide, Manuela Carrasco, told me later that afternoon as we made our way through the windy maze of Spain's old capital.
Some cities have old quarters. But the whole of Toledo is a historic district, indeed a Unesco World Heritage site, remaining largely intact throughout the many violent takeovers of Spain. "We have the church to thank for that," Manuela said.
Because Toledo was considered the holiest city in Spain in the Catholic faith, its invaders were careful not to destroy hallowed ground. So it survived the Moors, Visigoths, the Spanish Civil War. The Alcázar, or castle, is an exception -- it has been destroyed and rebuilt countless times since the Romans marched through. "The rest of Toledo, it's never been touched," Manuela said.
In a city that feels like a living museum, buildings and other remnants easily transport visitors to a different era, no small feat just a 30-minute train ride away from the cosmopolitan riches of Madrid. I didn't even have to look up any schedules to get there since the train departs every hour on the half-hour. I arrived around dinnertime, and checked into Hostal del Cardenal, a hotel that was an easy pick out of my guidebook because of its location: it's literally built into the old city wall. The space -- once the quarters for a cardinal in the 18th century -- fills a spot where soldiers must have kept a lookout. For less than $100 a night, it was a bargain. There were elaborate patios, fountains and gardens. The restaurant was run by the same owners of Botín, the oldest restaurant in Madrid, famous for its cuchinillo, roasted suckling pig, for more than 300 years. As tempting as the meat looked coming out of the wood oven in cast-iron pans there, I was anxious to get moving and left the hotel for dinner.
La Mancha, the province in which Toledo sits, is a high, arid place. The result is a cuisine based on the most elemental ingredients, like sopa de ajo, a broth made with water and garlic, and migas, a concoction of moistened bread crumbs cooked in olive oil and garlic and chunks of ham if available.
I ventured off to find Toledo's most prized dish: perdiz estofada, a local red-tailed partridge that's a favorite of hunters. Outside the city wall, down the Paseo Circo Romano, I discovered Venta de Aires, which first started serving the dish in 1891. It's also where Surrealists like Luis Buñuel and Salvador Dalí formed the Order of Toledo, got wildly drunk and paraded through the ancient city in costumes. Now it's been rebuilt with glassy, modern flourishes.
The perdiz was an element of nearly every dish at Venta de Aires, even forming the base of a delicate yet sumptuous creamed crab and eggplant soup. The perdiz itself came served on the bone, with a small mountain of caramelized onions that were sautéed in sherry vinegar from Andalusia, in southern Spain. Dessert was another Toledo specialty: marzipan, with a semi-cooked egg in the middle and with ice cream on top.
I usually explore a city by picking a direction and walking that way. But there were too many layers of history to untangle alone in Toledo. So the next morning I decided to hire a guide at the tourist center to help me make sense of the place.
Manuela met me at the hotel, and we entered the city through the massive Visigoth gate, then set out on a dark cobblestone street that was more like a tunnel because a convent had been built above it. The entire city is like that -- because it is so old, one layer is built on top of another. All the layers have made Toledo a destination for treasure hunters. The city has been rumored to house gold stockpiled by the church, and the lost table of King Solomon. But after digging under churches and buildings, none of the fabled relics have been uncovered.
"What we find mostly is a lot of bones," Manuela said. "A lot of femurs and skeletons. We like to say, 'In Toledo, there are more dead people than alive.' "
On street level, we passed nuns in habits and tourists like me passing through. Most Toledans now live outside the city, Manuela said, though some families have remained in their wood-framed Manchegan homes for centuries.
We stopped in what appeared to me to be an old church. Inside, the ceilings were high; the pillars, wedding cake white and topped with ornate horseshoe arches. Once I looked around, the space felt more like a mosque. But upon inspection, many inscriptions were written in Hebrew. Such were the baffling charms of Sinagoga de Santa Maria la Blanca, a Jewish house of worship founded in 1203, remodeled and used as a mosque by the Moors, used later as a church, and now serving as a tourist sanctuary run by nuns in the Jewish quarter of town.
Nowhere are the layers of Toledo more evident than in the rubble of the Alcázar, the only site in Toledo that has been attacked and bombed through the ages. City officials have preserved the ruins under one roof. Inside, against the rocky incline that Toledo is built upon, one can see the layers of debris: the palace the Romans constructed in the third century; traces of the Moors and Visigoths; and finally the warring factions that battled for Spain during the Civil War.
We left the castle, walked down another road, up a hill, down another. Toledo may look as if it is was designed by M. C. Escher, but its most famous resident artist was El Greco, the Renaissance painter from Crete who moved here in 1577, desperate for commissions from the church. In Toledo, he toiled and created some of his later masterpieces like "View and Plan of Toledo." The works are on display inside Museo del Greco, a museum in his honor that recently reopened after five years of renovations. There was a line out front. I debated going in. It was late in the day, and there was the cochinello back at the hotel restaurant I had to try before taking the train back to Madrid. Besides, I'd had my own glance of El Greco's works. They were on display in the window of the gift shop in his honor, too, rolled up into posters and for sale.
"The church didn't pay him for two years, he had no money," Manuela said, explaining that Toledo's biggest draw had basically lived as a pauper. "If El Greco were to wake up from his tomb and see this museum, see this gift shop, I have no idea what he might say."
"Holy Toledo?" I suggested.
"Holy Toledo," Manuela said.
IF YOU GO
Trains leave from Madrid every half-hour; a 30-minute trip, costing about 11 euros, or about $14.
WHERE TO STAY
Parador Del Toledo sits on a hill across the river Tajo, the ideal vantage point to see Toledo. It also offers a swimming pool and luxury-amenities here.
Built as a home for cardinals in the 17th century, the Hostal del Cardenal is often called the poor man's parador of Toledo. It is both outside and below the old city, though connected to it by plenty of dripping fountains and gardens. Use the escalators built into the city wall to re-enter the old city.
WHERE TO EAT
Adolfo The wooden-beams and frescoed ceilings of Adolfo restaurant built in the 15th century, make for a charming setting, where patrons order from a menu that blends the old and new. The zucchini blossoms with saffron sauce were good, as well as the perdiz (partridge).
Bar Ludena Where the locals a go for tapas and beers.
Hostal del Cardinal This restaurant, with a garden terrace, is run by the same owners of Botín in Madrid, and is prized for roast suckling pigs cooked in a stone oven.
Venta de Aires Restaurant Built in 1892, the Venta once hosted Spanish poets and surrealists like Lorca and Dalí. It has been modernized and expanded with a touristy feel, though the perdiz, which comes heaped with onions simmered in reduced sherry vinegar, is worth the trip.
WHAT TO DO
Cathedral Billed as one of the most impressive structures in Spain, the cathedral in Toledo dates back to the early 15th century. The cathedral took over 250 years to build, and is a mix of Gothic, Renaissance, Baroque and Neoclassical styles. It was built on the site of a former mosque, which itself was built on the site of a Visigoth church. Its interior features very ornate detailing and woodworking.
Museo de Ejército, Alcazar military museum Now a somewhat straightforward museum devoted to military history (with an impressive collection of toy soldiers, among other artifacts) the Alcazar is the focal point of the Toledo skyline, the high point of the city that has been taken over by the Romans, Visigoths, Moors, Castillian kings, and now the Toledo tourist ministry. Highlights include the layers of excavations and the room of Franco Colonel Jose Moscardo.
Museo del Greco Finally, after a lengthy renovation, the Museo Del Greco is open. See the works from Toledo's most famed artist resident, El Greco, the Greek painter, who lived here nearly 400 years ago and defined the city with his dark and nonrealistic works.
Bisagra Gate A somber and chilling reminder of how far those in Toledo went to protect the city from their invaders, the Bisagra Gate is an old door to the city, originally built by the Moors and rebuilt in the 16th century.
Sinagoga de Santa Maria la Blanca Built in 1203 as a synagogue, this house of worship has changed hands several times. Thus it has the feel of church, mosque and synagogue all in one.
Mezquito del Cristo de la Luz Legend has it that after the Reconquest, when King Alfonso XVI rode into Toledo on his white horse to celebrate the victory, the stopped at the gate of this former mosque and knelt at the front gate. Then, the story goes, the king and the others explored the mosque and found a candle near a cross that had been burning for centuries, hence the name: Mosque of Christ of the Light.
This article originally appeared in The New York Times.