Thursday's Child: Faulty Towers

La Merced Bell Tower, Granada, Nicaragua

Based on today's title, you might think I'm writing about towers that were built wrong - the Leaning Tower of Pisa and its ilk. But the only faults in these towers were in the people trying to climb them.

You see, my family has an issue with towers. One of us doesn't like steep flights of stairs. One doesn't like stairs with no handrails. One of us gets claustrophobic. And the fourth doesn't like towers one bit, for all these reasons.

And yet, that's rarely stopped us from climbing them.

Every city in Europe has at least one. The bell tower, the church tower, the city hall tower - each promising a breathtaking view. And in every new city, we think, "This time will be different. There will be a sturdy handrail all the way up, and the steps will be of uniform height. Maybe there's even enough room on the stairs for people walking up to pass those going down."

Ah, optimism.

Views from St. Vitus 

We've climbed the 343 steps of St Stephen's in Vienna, and the 287 steps of Prague's St. Vitus Cathedral. The tower in Segovia's Alcazar was a mere 152 stairs, but only three of us were willing to make the trip, and we took turns at the bottom with The One Who Wouldn't Climb.

Alcazar view

Me, with The One Who Would Climb

Earlier I mentioned the Tower of Pisa. I climbed it in the days when there was no safety barrier at the top. Andrew visited the Cologne Tower on his own, and said it's by far the tallest (533 steps) and hottest he has ever climbed, with some steps replaced by scaffolding. We both climbed Berlin's Siegessaule in the pouring rain - but that's a story for another day.

The most difficult ascent, however, was the Bell Tower in Granada, Nicaragua. It hit the trifecta of difficulty - crowded, steep and impossibly narrow. As we climbed the stairs, we stopped dozens of times, backs pressed against the wall, to let descending tourists pass. It was a hot day, and the rising temperature did nothing to encourage us. When we finally got to the top, my youngest daughter announced she wasn't going back down.

I was beginning to picture us rappelling back to earth, when she came up with her own solution. She wasn't going to walk down, but she wouldn't mind sitting, and bumping her way down the stairs on her backside. She received a few odd looks, but those on the way up were happy to make room for her. We reached the base in no time at all, a mere 72 bumps down.

Thursday's Child: The Alcazar, Segovia

The final building in Spain I’ll write about this month is the stunning Alcazar in Segovia.  Rather than telling you the history of this astounding castle or trying to describe it in my own words, I’ll say that it reminded me throughout of the poem The Lady of Shalott.  Between our photos and Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s words, I’ll let you form your own impressions.

Four gray walls and four gray towers,

Overlook a space of flowers,

And the silent isle imbowers

The Lady of Shalott.

There she weaves by night and day

A magic web with colours gay.

She has heard a whisper say,

A curse is on her if she stay

To look down to Camelot.

And moving thro’ a mirror clear

That hangs before her all the year,

Shadows of the world appear.

There she sees the highway near

Winding down to Camelot.

And sometimes thro’ the mirror blue

The knights come riding two and two:

She hath no loyal Knight and true,

The Lady of Shalott.

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,

He rode between the barley-sheaves,

The sun came dazzling thro’ the leaves,

And flamed upon the brazen greaves

Of bold Sir Lancelot.

She left the web, she left the loom,

She made three paces thro’ the room,

She saw the water-lily bloom,

She saw the helmet and the plume,

She look’d down to Camelot.

Out flew the web and floated wide;

The mirror crack’d from side to side;

“The curse is come upon me,” cried

The Lady of Shalott

Excerpts from The Lady of Shalott, by Alfred, Lord Tennyson