Saturday is the inbetween day, between Good Friday and Easter Sunday, at least for those of us who are not of the religion. We went for a stroll around La Candeleria and had an inferior breakfast there, and then returned to our own square of Sisal where the church was open. We wandered around it, admiring the 17th century altars and even found little stands with some limited information about each of them. One of the chapels has a really beautiful fresco of a cross, reaching to the high ceiling and with little implements of torture painted on the beams as cheerful as emojis. We also went to the market and came back with some supplies for a couple of days – the produce here tends to be ready to use, designed for daily purchase and immediate use, so I have decided we will not stock up the tiny fridge as last time we had to throw away a great deal of food which hurts my soul. Moreover, it is a fridge seemingly designed for beer, and while we can put an avocado in each beercan shaped compartment, it’s not terribly spacious.
This morning we went to the Casa de los Venados, a private home which allows tours of its collection of folk art. We were late for the 10 o’clock entry so wandered around a bit for the 11 o’clock, heading in a slightly different direction than usual till we got to San Juan and its square. It was peaceful and beautiful and it made me think how, after a couple of days in a place, one tends to settle along set paths. We had walked this way in the dark the evening we arrived, but it was unlit and felt a bit rough and we had instead walked in other directions thereafter. Today we saw clean, peaceful painted streets, well maintained, with the odd cafe or restaurant or even a high end clothing store.
The house itself was a mixed bag. It’s one of the tourist highlights of Valladolid, apparently and is certainly a beautiful old mansion, though it felt full of potential that went unrealised. The folk art collection was substantial, but was cluttered around and the pieces in the public spaces were by and large far inferior to those displayed in the private rooms. The latter pieces were spectacular, though. Again, however, the space felt congested and cluttered, and I wondered if I would have done it differently: omitted many of the items in the public spaces to give the real treasures room to breathe. The public spaces included a beautiful, underused courtyard that felt like the breakfast space of a bed and breakfast, and off it opened the guest rooms, each of which was a little suite with a bedroom and terrace upstairs and a sitting room, a small garden, bathroom and outdoor shower downstairs. It was all very hotel like and I did wonder at it since the guide was very insistent that it was a private residence with the guest rooms reserved for the owner’s family and friends, not visitors. Perhaps it was just that they were modelled on hotel rooms as that is what the owners envisaged a good guest room to be. In the private section, the first space was a small swimming pool with a bridge over it; again, almost delightful. There was a jacuzzi on a plinth, and a little sunken sitting area that made me think how nice it would be to have a jacuzzi with a full seating arrangement and little tables etc. Above the seating area were three vultures (actual) and to one side was a rather dreary little gym with two exercise cycles and a lot of little folk art statuettes. Then we entered into the kitchen of the home and reached the stunning works. These were fabulously creative and beautifully worked pieces, more than making up for any deficiencies elsewhere.
Back in Sisal, everything has been taken down. On Easter Sunday, it seems, it all comes to an end.