A happy mosaic

The walking tour guide was called Pedro, and he was pleasant and knowledgeable. For two whole hours he showed a small group of us around some of the historic sites of Córdoba. He kept up a busy pace, sharing plenty of interesting facts and a local’s perspective.

After lunch though I decided to dispense with guides, maps and guidebooks and stroll around a part of town I hadn’t explored yet. Another neighbourhood steeped in history.

I followed signs and my instinct, went at my own pace… and discovered some true treasures. A tiny 14th century Mudejar chapel that was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen. Zócalo tiles in shades of blue and gold, latticework wood sculpting and plant motifs. Patterns and art designed and created more than 600 years ago, that are still moving people today.

Walking on, I went through a gate in the old city walls to see a series of rectangular ponds, one feeding into the other via little waterfalls and each with a bed of inlaid stones from the nearby Guadalquivir river - the smooth, oval pebbles used to pave and make patterns in patios and pathways throughout the city.

I sat for a while and listened to the gentle sound of the cascading water. (And I felt at peace.)

I’ve always been one for following guidebooks and ticking off things to see. And it’s true, I still want to enjoy the landmarks and monuments of a new place and know something of their history. It’s what gives them meaning, and wonder - and us a sense of where we’ve come from.

But I also want to give myself time and space for surprise discoveries, like medieval turquoise chapels and ponds of rippling water.

Perhaps it’s a question of balance. Allowing for different ways of interacting with the world. And its treasures.

Combining facts and context, with spontaneity and surprise.

A happy mosaic of learning.

I wonder. How are you building the balance? For yourself? And for your audience?

Photo: San Bartolomé Chapel, Córdoba