A fragment of Magical Spain

They ran with the speed of a hare away from its burrow to mislead the predator, those surprising eighties of the last century XX, when a group of intrepid pioneers of the unusual, emulators, perhaps, to imitate the temperament that nostalgia grants to the romantics and that, from roadside inn to roadside inn, as happened to Villon, leaves bitter questions on the palate about the final destination of the snows of yesteryear.

Times in which, from route to route and from logbook to logbook, surprising visions of a buried, traditional, ancestral and practically unknown Spain began to appear, which someone, perhaps illuminated by the same Light that knocked Saul off his mount when he was on the road to Damascus, called, with the flats of the one who follows his intuition against all odds, as Magical Spain.

From that Magical Spain, little fond of doing favours to orthodoxy and very given to showing the white flag of indulgence to marginalised, but not marginal, philosophies, some interesting vestiges still survive, such as this amazing Gothic Christ that belonged to the Templars of Saint Polo and that today casts a shadow behind the altar of the Soria church of Saint John of Rabanera, whose mysterious legend, under the epigraph of ‘the Christ cellarer’, was rescued from the ostracism in which it was found by an artist of the Roads, Master, friend and invaluable companion of impossible routes, also a survivor, and fortunately, of those golden times: Rafael Alarcón Herrera.

NOTICE: Both the text and the accompanying photographs are my exclusive intellectual property and therefore, are subject to my Copyright.