LEÓN CATHEDRAL
The cathedral, which is the heart of the city, is right next door to my hotel; it draws me like a magnet. I must see it, and get inside it.
It is breathtaking. Truly, literally, breathtaking. Stunning. Even as I first see it, I know that it will be one of the images that remains with me for the rest of my life. Words fail adequately to describe it. Only the eyes, and the heart, can see it clearly.
The cathedral was built beginning in 1253, in the French gothic style, when all of Europe was competing to build the most spacious and ethereal cathedrals. Remarkably, León’s was completed in just 50 years—an incredibly short period, considering the enormousness of the task. The fast finish meant that the architecture is totally unified and uniform—unlike the cathedral in Burgos, for example, which was built over hundreds of years and includes many different styles, as ideas and tastes changed over that time period. Standing inside León’s great cathedral, you have the sense of a soaring edifice that, despite its stone walls, is light enough to float to heaven. The feeling of weightlessness is magnified by the enormous amount of stained glass on the walls. The whole thing seems lighter than air—like a magic Persian carpet, but made of stone and glass.
I spend much of the afternoon and evening wandering inside the cathedral, and outside it. I wander around the maze of narrow, medieval streets surrounding it; but always they lead back to the huge open square in front of the cathedral. I have drinks in front of it; I have dinner in its shadow. I photograph it in the full light of the day; in the splendid soft light of the afternoon; and in the sublimely ethereal rays of the moon at night. It is the last part of the city that I see as I crawl back exhausted to my garret room and sleep.