Student Journals: AIFS in Salamanca, Spain

Andrew Davenport
Rice University
University of Salamanca, Spain

Andrew DavenportI was afraid of heights as a kid. Looking down from any higher than one or two stories would make me dizzy and short of breath, especially if there weren’t a solid railing in the way. You may understandably have trouble believing that Andrew Davenport was ever afraid of anything, but it’s true. However, probably as a culminating result of various frightening experiences at high altitudes and observing the men in my life risk life and limb to prove they were not afraid of heights, I came to realize that I needed to man up and face my fear. And I didn’t merely face it; I stared it in the eye, grabbed it by the horns, and overcame it. That is why today I enjoy few things more than standing at the top of the world and taking in the view, and although the new food and the new friends were my favorite parts of Spain, the achievements of heights make for the more interesting stories.

I came across my first tower in Spain by accident, as I was exploring the city of Salamanca to see the sites and enjoy the nice weather. As I left the Huerto de Calixto y Melibea (which also has a nice view), I wandered down a side street and chanced upon La Cueva de Salamanca, a small historic site with an interesting legend. But what caught my attention was the four story tower at the very back. You would hardly notice it from anywhere else in the city, but there it was. I climbed to the top and took in a spectacular view of the city, on one side looking down toward the Río Tormes, and on the other looking up at the dome of the Cathedral. I thought to myself that if I ever had myself a fine Spanish señorita, I’d take her there to watch the sunset. Unfortunately, I haven’t had the chance, but that hidden tower is still one of my favorite places in the city. I sat there and watched as the sky turned orange and red as dusk approached.

Andrew DavenportThe next height I sought to conquer was the Castillo de San Sebastián in Cádiz. It is a beautiful castle only accessible by a quarter mile walkway out to sea. And it was closed for reconstruction the day we went. As if that could keep me out. We returned under the cover of nightfall, planning to sneak up the walls and look back at the city and look out to sea. It was a compelling site – the tide had gone out, leaving the area around the castle a dark maze of wet rock and sand, and the stars were shining brightly as we took in our surroundings. I observed two main possibilities for entering the castle. The easier and more direct route was to climb the front gate, using the “Closed for reconstruction” sign as a foothold. The harder and more awesome route involved climbing out from the bridge onto the side of the castle wall, and from there up and onto the top of the wall. I really should have gone with option 2. As I sat on top of the gate and prepared to descend the other side into the castle, I was surprised by a guard on the inside, and was robbed of my glorious entry, an entry that perhaps would have gone unnoticed if I had used the wall instead. I was unable to achieve the heights I wished, but I did have a good view of the stars that night, and I left with a good story.

About halfway through the semester I spent a day in León, which is a very pleasant city, and whose sites were worth the trip. But the best part of the trip came as we were rushing back to the bus station so as not to miss our ride home. As we passed through the parks along the banks of the rivers, we happened upon a playground designed to look like a pirate ship. Oh, really? That’s like a dream come true for you? It is for me, too. The ship even had its own rigging, although it seemed designed so that youngsters would be unable to climb it, but when has that ever stopped me? I was torn between the need to get to the bus station and the burning desire to climb that ship, and I was very relieved to hear my lovely lady companions urging me up there for a photo op. Had I more time, I probably would have climbed to the very top of the tallest mast, but instead I climbed but halfway up, and was afforded a wonderful view of the river as it flowed beside the city.

In Portugal there is a small town on the coast called Nazarét. It is a very nice little town, but what makes it awesome is the opportunity to ride a cable car up the side of the nearby bluff and look down on the city and its beach. The view is absolutely amazing and you don’t even have to really climb anything. But if you want something more than amazing, I suggest you wait until your chaperone goes back down the hill in the cable car, and then hop the railing and look over the edge, which will allow you to contemplate the hundreds of feet straight down that separate you from the ocean below. Let the salty ocean breeze wash over you and just feel like you’re standing on top of the world. I’ll admit, of all the heights I experienced this semester, this is the only one that put butterflies in my stomach, because you just have to wonder, while you’re standing at the edge, what if the wind picks up just enough to carry you away?

Honestly, there are plenty of altitudinous places that I visited and couldn’t fit in these paragraphs. I’d like to take a moment to mention that I loved the Jeronimus tower in Salamanca, the Castillo de Sao Jorge in Lisbon, la Giralda in Sevilla, the Alcázar in Segovia, and the upper deck in the Estadio Bernabeu in Madrid. Stand tall, my merry monuments.