Ambrose Bierce, a great writer and at the same time, an insurmountable Master in the fine Art of cynicism - with the permission of our grumpy and international don Francisco de Quevedo y Villegas, who was a bit of a saint and still was knight of the Order of Santiago, although blasphemous as a Templar-opined that History is a story, almost always false, of the exploits, almost always lacking in the slightest importance, made by rulers, almost always dishonest, and soldiers, almost always foolish (1).

It is a great truth. A truth, that the world has been suffering, like a ballast hung in the neck of the people, throughout the centuries; as it is true, also, that these flamenco artists, who spun dreams and brushed the perfection by order of those same rulers -generally dishonest- and of those same soldiers -almost always foolish, because where the mustache reigns with little or nothing the cloak - communicated by order, accepting these defects, mundane and motivating, but safeguarding, nevertheless, their dignity, with anonymity and Beauty.

Beauty - understanding it or looking for it each in its own way - is an abundant good; a good transvestite, with a polka-dot handkerchief similar to that which hid the face of the old romantic bandits and who, like these, assails you without the slightest pity, at any crossroads of the road, snatching a piece of your heart as a pledge.

On this road, called Vía or Ruta de la Plata, many travelers have been, over the centuries, who have been surprised by the bandit beauty of Zamora and its province, although not all, unfortunately, could enjoy such an insurmountable visual poem, which gives life - as the legend tells about that rabbi capable of creating life from clay - to dark passages of history, with adornments of heroic virtue, extolling the abominable biblical custom of solving garrotte-based differences, Bloody blots, ruthless killings and new accounts.

Perhaps, in the background, extolling wars like Trojan war or Carthaginian war Aníbal against the Roman oppressors, respond to an urgent need, latent in the human being, to reach old age having a lot of that It has been called batallitas to tell the grandchildren and, based also on a meritoriously human antiquity, gives continuity to an oral tradition, so distorted by today's Saints Thomas, whose authority responds to a question far from that force able to move mountains, which is nothing other than seeing to believe.

Therefore, see to believe it, is my recommendation for all those who one day, no matter where they come from or where they are going, much less how and why they do it, drop by the Cathedral of Zamora and dedicate a good time to relax their eyes, letting them slip by a Beauty that, in any case, is full of subtle subterfuges.

Safeguarding the question that, after a short time of contemplating the tapestries, there is the uncertain feeling that the figures come to life as perfect as they are, it is possible that the tourist, the traveler or the pilgrim head to Compostela full of emotions and memories, let yourself be carried away by suspicion, and ask yourself - it's just an example - why, among the dozens of figures, whose realism is beyond doubt, they all represent the white race, exception of one that, for a change, is black; which, paradoxically, fights side by side, with a string of bearded and solar warriors who, after all, despise him, considering him inferior.

Or why, in other scenes, which in reality, have nothing to do with the Camino de Santiago, some of the characters are adorned as pilgrims, faced with situations alien to their nature. Or what does the dove, symbol of the Holy Spirit, paint in scenes that supposedly belong to historical or protohistoric episodes prior to their adoption by the symbolics of Christianity, or why the poor lamb has always been the animal best prepared for sacrifice , watering with their innocent blood, many of the crazy ceremonies of the human race.

Suspicions or stupidities, who knows; but it is good to be free, even if it is using the language of the birds - as some would say - of those dark swallows that - with the permission of Master Bécquer - revolve around that inner Seville, which is the mind of each one, transforming into thoughts that maybe a day depart, never to return.
Now, what is certain is that it would be a complete sacrilege to visit Zamora and leave without having the opportunity to visit this room that, after all, does not stop offering with its Beauty - I repeat it again - a magical experience.

Notes and bibliography:

(1) Ambrose Bierce: 'The Devil's Dictionary', Ramdon House Mondadori, S.A., 1st edition, October 2007, page 244.

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NOTICE: unpublished in steemit, but originally published in my blog MEMORIES OF A PILGRIM. Both the text, photographs, and videos (with the exception of music, reproduced under a YouTube license) are my exclusive intellectual property. The original entry, where you can check the authorship of juancar347, can be found at the following address: https://jc347.blogspot.com/2013/03/una-joya-al-alcance-del-peregrino-los.html

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