Arco de San Martin, Burgos
I stayed two days in Burgos, partly to rest up, and partly to tour the town. To get a general layout and sense of the town I took short bus tour of the city that led out of the city proper and up onto the hill of San Miguel that overlooks the town. We passed by the remnants of the city castle, whose origins dated back to the Romans but which was destroyed by the French in 1813 – the occupying forces committing suicide as they blew up the castle rather than surrender. Part of what remains are some of the 12th century walls, and in particular the Arco de San Martin, which was used by pilgrims leaving the city on their way to Santiago. This archway was also used for visiting kings as they would enter the city, up until the sixteenth century. And here I stood now,
overlooking the city much as those visiting royals would have. Was this, the city vista, the final view of the those French army men who blew themselves up rather than lay down their arms? I felt connected to history here, however tenuous that link was. But aren’t all our associations to the past so feeble? Once it has happened, does it matter in the grand scheme of time whether it occurred yesterday or 9 centuries ago, to ourselves or to others? It is all out of our reach, but then again, also accessible in our memories and imagination.
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