"Thanksgiving" in Segovia

So let me begin by saying that our trip to Segovia yesterday (Friday) was FREEZING. Why am I suddenly such a cold weather wuss? Spanish cold weather got nothing on Boston, but I am nine months removed from my last experience of a Boston winter, and Spain made it doubly hard to believe winter was coming by staying in the 70s until late October. I should just be thankful it wasn't raining...

We started off the day stopping for a photo op of this view of the Alcázar, or castillo, or castle:


BU knows what is important to us - kodak moments. We flocked into a wet field to take advantage of this view, which was much better than the one from the entrance to the castle, as we learned later in the day. After that, we rode the bus into the middle of town and got out to learn all about the aqueducto, the Roman aqueduct that is the best surviving example of a Roman aqueduct in the peninsula, and possibly in the world.

We then went for the tour of the synagogue-turned-church and the Jewish quarter which has become synonymous with all trips we take with the program. This synagogue looked a lot like the one in Toledo, but was actually part of a convent of cloistered nuns. Have I mentioned that I am fascinated by nuns? Mostly just because a) I've never really been surrounded by so many nuns as there are in Spain and b) I am always wondering what the difference between various types of nuns are. Like, mostly it is about their clothes. Why do some nuns have to conform to the US stereotype of nun fashion (think Sister Act) and some get to pull a more Mother Teresa look together? Some super secret nun hierarchy? In El Escorial, Amalia explained to us where nuns got their distinctive dress: she said that widows got sent to convents back in those days (easier to pawn off an old and perhaps powerful woman on the church to control?) and what we now think of as nun fashion was actually widow fashion in the 16th Century that convents adopted.

In the patio of the synagogue - ducks!

Then came the part of the day that we had all been waiting for (alternatively with anticipation and trepidation): our "Thanksgiving" meal. Typical of Segovia, we had cochinillo asado, or roast suckling pig.
I probably should not say "we" here, as that is misleading. I did not have cochinillo asado - I had salmon, a nice big chunk that did not come with a face. As part of the ceremony of serving it, the chef José María had Nicole (who's birthday was most recent) help him as a volunteer. They cut through the piggy with a plate to prove how tender it was, and then to prove the plate was not doctored in some way, they broke it on the floor. And then he proceeded to portion out all the cochinillo by cutting it into pieces with a plate. We also had a special dessert of his creation, which was ice cream with chocolate sauce "flambeado" (I love that flambear is a verb) with alcohol and a jasmine-like herb. Oh, and there were peppermint flakes in the ice cream. It was a Thanksgiving Miracle.

Next, on to our last stop of the day, the visit to the Alcázar. It was an interesting mix of medieval/mudejar architecture on the inside and had the look of that one German castle on the outside (you know the one. Neuw-something). What I was not expecting was to see my first suit of armor inside.

Then, after a brief spell in the gift shop playing with toys and reading pop-up books with Amalia, we hiked back through the city and got back on the bus for the ride home, in which everyone slept. Later that night, my literature professor threw a party which he invited us to, so we got to see his surprisingly spacious apartment and he served us what can only be described as very nice tapas and jungle juice. Happy Thanksgiving.