Our last stop in Spain was just outside of Vitoria... a struggling city that looks like being lapped in the economic race. Driving in, the area surrounding the city centre had some large residential developments... giving an air of prosperity. However, peripheral growth has been achieved at the cost of letting the centre decay... particularly in the areas where we walked in search of cathedrals and monuments. The town bosts two cathedrals... hinting at better days gone by... but there are fewer sadder sights than seeing grass growing on the steps leading to the central cathedral's front door.
On our explore of the old city, we came across a large church (possibly a defrocked Basilica) crumbling in a quiet corner of a colourless decaying part of town. As we passed, we saw a side door open... and took the opportunity to step inside one of the few buildings that was open. We pushed the door open and surprised a couple of middle aged men... looking guilty and smelling like they had been smoking substances unknown. "May we have a look?", we inquired. They shrugged and walk further into the church... no lights were on... very dark... medieval. (Perhaps cathedral owners should consider allowing modern tourists to see their buildings the way medieval pilgrims, worshippers and sinners saw these monumental structures... by candlelight... very few candles. The wondrous sculptures peering out of the gloom would put the fear of God into those poor sods... much more than what we experienced... flood-lit areas full of colour and majesty.) As our eyes adjusted to the dark, we saw the back part of the church had been cleared and standing in the space was an assortment of sculptures and icons.
What first caught our eye was the largest of the statues... appearing to be of two men in an intimate embrace... a kiss. My thought was that we had stumbled upon props for the town's annual mardi gras festival... the big sculpture was surrounded by a choir of chubby cherubs... rosy cheeks... wings aflutter... it had a distinct 'camp' feel to it... not that I am an expert. We pulled out our cameras and took a couple of shots before we realised that 6-months of painstaking carving was done to tell the story of the betrayal of Christ by Judas, which occurred in the Garden of Gethsemane after the Last Supper, and lead directly to the arrest of Jesus by Roman troops. I had no idea 'the kiss' was such a passionate encounter!
Our two hosts started walking towards the door. We both thought the setting was ideal for a mugging... with us as victims... so we beat a hasty retreat... quick enough to reach the door before our hosts. The photo below captures a little of the weirdness of the church interior.
Today, we drove from Périgueux to the picturesque village of Brantôme... headland of the Dordogne region... beautiful green valleys (even in late autumn)... rolling hills... and some of the richest agricultural land in France. This wholesome region is not the place you expect to encounter 'weird'.
Apparently, this region suffered attacks from Scandinavian armies in the 9th and 10th century... suffering that did not go down well with the local church.
On our stroll around Brantôme, we found an open door at the central church. Its main claim to fame is that the bell tower is the oldest standing amongst churches in France... something to be proud of! We entered the church and found it in a state of disrepair. There was next to no decoration by way of statues, altar pieces, religious icons, etc. The one remaining statue is shown below... graphically portraying a Scandinavian about to slaughter a poor defenceless mother and child. This depiction of an event that occurred over 1,000 years ago remains the enduring message of this church community... never forget... never forgive! Perhaps, church leaders with a broader perspective would have preferred the community to leave other (more Christian) messages... like, pay your taxes on time... avoid paedophilia... don't scare people.
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