Sweet and sharp are both famous in Tolédo, Spain. Along the shopping streets, stores for both almond sweets and forged steel invite you in.
Tolédo was the port of entry for marzipan, and in medieval Europe was identified as the “birthplace” of the sweet. Marzipan likely originated in the medieval Islamic world in and around Persia as an almond-and-sugar paste enhanced with rose water. The Arabs who came to Iberia in the early 8th century brought it with them. During the golden centuries of religious tolerance, Muslims, Jews, and Christians made and enjoyed marzapan. After 1492, expelled Sephardic Jews took the marzipan treat with them and incorporated it in their celebrations. During the succeeding centuries, Christian nuns adopted and adapted the recipes, so that after the expulsion of the Muslims and Jews, Tolédan marzipan became identified with convents. Three cultures in one bite.
Another facet of Tolédo’s exceptional reputation comes from its fine steel swords and weapons. Even in Roman times, Hannibal chose Tolédan swords for his army. Impressed, Romans made Tolédo a preferred supplier for their own weapons. In the medieval period, Muslim and Christian rulers coveted Tolédan steel and weapons. Three cultures in one slice.
We enjoyed a walking tour, and our guide proposed that three characteristics make Tolédo significant: Its location, its history of the Three Cultures, and its roles as various types of capital on the Iberian peninsula.
Today, Tolédo seems to sit in the shadow of the much-larger Madrid, which has been the capital of Spain since 1561. Then why do about 2 million tourists visit this little city each year?
Because Tolédo was the religious and political capital of Spain before Madrid; because of its picturesque medieval streets, imposing cathedral, and embodiment of Christian, Jewish, and Muslim heritage. It’s fairly small, so strolling and exploring are easy. It also sits atop a strategic hill, so after a day of traipsing up and down the hill, you can justify a hearty dinner of carcamusas (pork stew), manchego cheese, and sweet marzipan.
Location, location, location! This steep promontory surrounded on three sides by the Tagus River cries out, “Defensive! Secure!” When not needing to defend themselves, the people of Tolédo used the Tagus River (the longest river in the Iberian peninsula) to connect to the rest of Iberia and the world. While people lived here before the arrival of the Romans, once the Romans pushed in, they named the place Toletum, which probably meant “high hill.”
Both Christians and Jews lived here since at least the 5th century, in both Roman and later Visigothic times. The first Muslims arrived at Toletum in 711, at the very start of their occupation of Iberia. In 1085, Christian King Alfonso VI of Léon-Castile captured the city from the local taifa (local emirate) and made Tolédo the royal capital of Castile (one of the dominant kingdoms of the peninsula). Like the Muslim emirs before them, the early Christian kings tolerated all religions. King Alfonso X actively guaranteed rights and tolerance for Muslims, Jews, and Christians. This period was called the convivencia, or cohabitation.
However, by the time of the Catholic Monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella, Christian intolerance erased such cohabitation. They expelled or forced conversion of Jews in 1492, and gradually did the same to Muslims until a complete expulsion in 1609.
As we walked through the winding medieval streets, we enjoyed a few of the fruits of the convivencia, especially examples of mudéjar craftsmanship. (Check the reference post Introducing Andalusia for terminology.)
Our tour guide stopped us in front of this building. He asked us what we thought it was.
Tolédo was our first stop on the way to Andalusia, so we were only just starting to understand the three-culture heritage. We looked at the pointed scalloped arches and the tile-work lintel, and said, “A mosque?”
He smiled. “No, a convent.” It was built during Christian-rule times, but the artisans and workmen were Muslims, and their families had created their works in the Muslim times too. The management might have changed with the arrival of the Christian rulers, but the staff remained the same. Later violent intolerance hadn’t raised its head yet, so patrons chose art and architectural styles because they were beautiful and the skillful artists and builders lived among them.
Here’s another example, the Puerta del Sol from the late 13th and early 14th centuries. A Christian religious-military order, the Knights Hospitaller, erected the gate, yet were happy with a blend of Roman and Muslim designs.
As we walked around the historic center, we couldn’t miss the tallest, most assertive monument: the cathedral. The Cathedral of Toledo, or Catedral Primada de Santa María, has been the seat of the Primate of Spain as long as it has been a cathedral. But, its site originally hosted a Visigothic cathedral (much smaller), and then an 8th century mosque. The gothic cathedral we see today was built out of and on top of that mosque. The very tall bell tower contains within it the minaret from the mosque. So even such an expressive Christian monument conceals a skeleton (literally and figuratively) of the convivencia.
First impression upon entering the cathedral is, “Yep, this is a big austere gothic church.”
But as we quickly learned, these places hold layers and layers of additions.
The main altar wall, or retablo, is considered a masterpiece of late Spanish Gothic art.
But look closely at the gold Gothic tower form in the center, just above the Virgin Mary. There’s some Baroque lighting effect hiding behind there. For the moment, notice the dark shadows between the gold filaments.
When you walk around behind the alter, you find this extravagant Baroque intrusion, which is called a Transparente. A very clever architect and sculptor, Narciso Tomé, devised this play of light in the early 18th century. When the sun is in the perfect location, its light floods through the great heavenly light lantern…
…across the space to this golden starburst of the sculptural wall…
…which is directly behind the center of the main altar retablo. The sunbeams illuminate the gold of the alter from behind. Very theatrical!
A significant resident of Toledo is this very tall gold monstrance. A monstrance is typically a metal container, often of gold or silver, with a transparent central compartment that holds the consecrated host so it can be seen by the Catholic faithful, especially during processions outside the cathedral in the streets of the city. The faithful parade this monstrance outside one time per year during the feast of Corpus Christi, which is typically about 60 days after Easter.
The monstrance was crafted early in the 16th century. Conceived as a hexagonal Gothic spire 3 m / 10 ft high, it was built from thousands of pieces and hundreds of figures, with buttresses, pinnacles, and narrative reliefs depicting scenes from Christ’s Passion and Resurrection.
An earlier much smaller monstrance sits at the heart of the larger construction. This one belonged to Queen Isabella, and is reputed to have been gilded with the first American gold to arrive in Spain. As such, it fulfilled both religious and political symbolic duties.
From 1085 when King Alfonso VI captured Tolédo from the Caliph of Córdoba until 1561 when King Philip II turned to Madrid, Tolédo was the capital of Spain. During this period, Tolédo was second only to Rome in religious importance according to some observers, and it was the seat of political power as well. When that political power moved to the new capital of Madrid, the ecclesiastical power remained in Tolédo.
These neighboring buildings on the Plaza del Ayuntamiento hint at that history. On the right is the Bishop’s Palace. Originally a fortified residence (including an enclosed bridge into the cathedral; it must have been a tough time!), in the 16th century, it was renovated to be the palace for the bishop. Only a few decades later, construction started on the Town Hall. We can see these two buildings as direct expression of the separation of political and religious power once Madrid became the capital.
While the city remained significant for Spanish Catholics, in succeeding centuries its population and economic viability diminished.
Until the age of tourists! The former capital of Spain is now a capital of visitors – like us. Actually not quite like us since we stayed a couple of nights. Starting in the morning, day tourists, many in groups, fill the main streets and sites. Commerce Street, which links the Plaza de Zocodover, the central square, and the cathedral, is lined with shops full of souvenirs, knives and swords, marzipan and other sweets, manchego cheesecakes, as well as brand shops that one sees all over Europe. This is the Main Street of the historic center of Toledo, and it seems overrun by commerce for transients.
We asked our walking-tour guide, a native Tolédan, whether, 20 or 30 years ago, was the center of town different, more for local residents. He said, yes, but look closer. There are still artisan shops selling metal works and hand fans and more. Unfortunately, we find today fewer local shops than before Covid; many did not survive the pandemic period.
In the evenings, once the daytime tour groups had left, the streets were calm and there was plenty of space for a stroll. On one of our two evenings, we followed internet recommendations to a tapas restaurant just off the main square. While the outdoor seating was almost full, there was a table for us. As far as we could tell, most all the customers were local folks. We wonder if they enjoy having their town to themselves after dark, and then have to retreat in the morning once the first tour buses arrive from Madrid.
November 2025