On Being a Patron Saint

I have decided I deserve equal time. Jerry (aka San Geraldo) had his first quadrennial "Day." His 22-greats grandfather, Ferdinand III of Spain, is San Fernando and is buried in the Cathedral here in Sevilla. I deserve my day basking in the glow of my own saintly light.

ANOTHER SPECTACULAR ANDALUSIAN VISTA.

Yesterday, while in the Cathedral in the village of Arcos de la Frontera, I noticed a statue of a very adrogynous figure holding a sword aloft. He turned out to be San Miguel, my namesake and the patron saint of Arcos de la Frontera. San Miguel (also known as Saint Michael — er, Mitchell, if I stretch the truth a bit) is a symbol of humility (like me). He is recognized as an archangel in Christian, Jewish, and Islamic teachings. I won't go into more detail because this begins to sound like Bible Study and we all know that religion is right up there with cooking on the list of things in which I have little interest.

A TYPICAL STREET.

Anyway, Arcos sits up on a rise at an altitude of 185 meters (607 feet), not a huge climb, but significantly higher than Sevilla, which sits at 7 meters (23 feet). The vistas were inspiring. The sunshine was glorious. And the southern skies were again a vivid blue.

CATHEDRAL SIDE ENTRANCE.

Arcos de la Frontera has a population of about 31,000 people and is quite charming. It's a Pueblo Blanco, one of the White Towns of Andalucía, called such because the houses are all painted white and make a beautiful scene on the hillsides. Stone Age cave dwellers once lived in Arcos. It became an independent Moorish taifa in 1011 and became a Christian stronghold in 1252.

SIDE VIEW. THE BELLS ARE RINGING...

The gothic Cathedral dates back to the 13th century and the interior was recently restored. It's very impressive with items from as early as the 8th century. There is so much more to see in this beautiful town and Jerry and I look forward to heading back for more exploration.

CATHEDRAL FRONT.

DETAIL OF THE TOWER.

MAKING BEAUTIFUL MUSIC.

LYING LIKE THIS FOR MORE THAN 1,200 YEARS.
HE'S GOING TO HAVE ONE HELLUVA CRICK IN HIS NECK.

On the way out of town, I noticed a couple of very strange buildings rising up from the street and losing themselves into the cliffside.

THE UPSTAIRS APARTMENTS ARE A STEAL.

GREAT CROSS-VENTILATION... AND EVEN A/C.

As for the statue of San Miguel, I would have preferred to discover a more studly likeness of "myself" (wielding a much larger sword), but one of the measures of true sainthood, I believe, is the ability to rise above little disappointments.

SAN MIGUEL (ER... MITCHELL)