One bright November morning, during a visit to Madrid, I set off by train and headed for Palencia, 235km to the north-west of the capital. Pretty soon the atmosphere changed and there was a thin mist at first, later developing into a thick fog which lifted only shortly before I arrived at the station.

In the few hours I had at my disposal I wanted to see as much as possible of this old historic city. I was only armed with the knowledge that it has a wonderful Gothic cathedral and that it is in the middle of a region noted for its high concentration of Romanesque ecclesiastical architecture.

Those familiar with the epic of El Cid would know, of course, that – according to tradition – El Cid married his Xiména in Palencia on the church of San Miguel.

Its cathedral is one of the most beautiful in Spain and the main reason why I went there

Not far from the station, and before I could even walk along Palencia’s main street to locate the local tourist office, I found myself almost in the shadow of the church of San Pablo, in front of which there is a square. It is a popular meeting place of young people, many of whom attend the music conservatory which was once part of the Dominican monastery adjacent to the church. The latter was founded by St. Dominic himself early in the 13th century but, after various modifications, it became the present Gothic structure. Yet, its most prominent feature is the chapel of Decano Zapáta and that prelate’s fine Renaissance tomb.

Ruins of Church of Santa Eulalia.

Calle Mayor, as its name indicates, is Palencia’s main street. A good part of it is lined with fine first to 19th century buildings. One of them is the former Augustinian nuns’ church of San Agustin.

The original 17th century façade has survived and, one could still admire Francisco Rincón’s great retable. The nuns moved elsewhere in 1981 since which year the church has been the local diocese’s responsibility. As I veered from Calle Mayor in search of the cathedral, the fog had returned and I felt what seemed like a cold icy finger running down my spine.

Palencia at an altitude of 750m is not all that high, but it is far away from the sea and it was November after all. However, I say better a cool climate and warming yourself up by walking and enjoying the occasional coffee break, rather than being lumped with unsupportable heat.

Now, an autonomous commune in the Castilla-Leon region Palencia may have been overshadowed by cities like Burgos, Salamanca and Leon. However, it is equal to them in that its cathedral, its prized jewel, is one of the most beautiful in Spain and the main reason why I went there.

Medieval castle of Ampudia.

When I approached it, the glorious Gothic edifice seemed like a huge stone vessel afloat in the mist and dominating the Plaza de la Inmaculada. The fog cleared on and off, providing clear patches of visibility and one could see the large number of storks (I counted at least 50) which either stood motionless on tower and pinnacles, roof and ledges or else flew around coming back and forth probably just exercising their wings.

By the time I ended my visit to the cathedral I thought that had I just limited my sight-seeing to this, getting there would have still been worth all the trouble.

The cathedral is dedicated to San Antolín or St Antonin de Pamiers, martyred in Gaul in the 4th century.  A part of his relics were venerated here, when the city was still the Romano-Spanish Pallantia.

The history of the cathedral is that of the city. It suffered a lot in 585 when the Visigoths conquered the kingdom of the Suevi (roughly Leon, Galicia, Asturias and northern Portugal). They brought all Iberia (except the Basque lands and a Byzantine foothold) under one crown.

After wholesale destruction, a small church was built over the shrine of San Antolín. Only the shrine (employing some Roman columns) survived from the 7th century Visigothic church, as does the adjacent crypt (11th century) of the Romanesque church built after the Moors under Al-Mansur, who harried and plundered the region in 1000 were pushed back to the south.

The Gothic splendour with a few Renaissance touches took shape between the 14th and the 16th centuries. The doors at either side of the base of the great tower are called Puerta del Obispo (because it is reserved for the Bishop’s entry) and Puerta de los Novios (where couples who get married in the cathedral make their entrance) respectively.

One could not miss the Renaissance elements in the splendid chancel, and the other details in the interior, such as the very impressive huge retable by Juan de Flandes (John of Flanders). The latter most probably entered Spain in the wake of the future Queen Juana of Spain, when she married the Flemish-reared, half-French and half-Austrian, Philip of Burgundy.

The Castle of Ampudia.

His was a presence which was to have a great influence on Spanish artists like Gregorio Fernández, Felipe Vigany and Juan de Valmaseda. They collaborated with de Flandes on the retable and elsewhere in the cathedral. The décor that meets the eye is beautiful and expands in every direction. The choir stalls are a marvel of carved wood and except for the Bishop’s seat there is no human or animal representation. I could not leave before visiting the modestly-sized cathedral museum, among the treasures of which is a large San Sebastián by El Greco.

Whether El Cid got married there or not, the building is a perfect example of the transition from Romanesque to Gothic

Leaving the cathedral, I noticed the air was crisper, and most of the storks had gone, presumably foraging for food. That reminded me that I should get some nourishment, not always a major priority during day trips of this kind.  Before that kind of stop I had a look at Plaza Cervantes passing by the hospice of San Bernabé, a medieval foundation by a local powerful family, the La Castilla.

I drifted into Plaza Mayor with the Franciscan church (1220s), within which itinerant sovereigns of Castile and Leon often held court and administered justice. The Ayuntamiento dominates its side of the square, built to impress of course.  Many shops and cafes and restaurants nestle under the arcades here.  Quite close to the square is a fine bronze statue of a graceful aguadera (waterseller). This sharply contrasted with another bronze Mujér, obese, Boteroesque and which is supposed to grace the corner of Calle Mayor and Calle Marqués de Albaída.

I found a confectionery close to the food market and asked for something typically local and was advised to try rosquillas rústicas. This is a kind of pretzel, not too sweet and made of crunchy biscuit pastry, which looks something Gothic in design. I ate it as I continued sightseeing. It was a long walk which took me past the church of San Miguel, which was closed and with a massive single, central tower. Whether El Cid got married there or not, the building (11th 13th centuries) is a perfect example of the transition from Romanesque to Gothic.

Dwelling houses built into ground.

Going down the sloping square in front of it, one comes to the banks of the river Carrión, spanned by a modern bridge (1909), and from where I could see the Puente Mayor. In the 16th century, this replaced the ancient Roman one; it was later widened in the 19th century.  The ancient core of the city was located there, until liability to flooding and marshland too close to permit expansion resulted in the centre moving to its present site in the post-Roman period.

Doubling back and, with the sun making a belated glowing appearance, I walked past S. Lazaro’s where in the adjacent monastery the great St Teresa of Ávila had stayed in 1581.

A few metres away is a reminder of another great family, of partly royal descent, the Enriquez, hereditary Admirals of Castile who have left their mark on the 15th century, beautiful Gothic monastery  of the Poor Clares, with its oratory of El Cristo Yacente which attracts devotees and pilgrims from far and wide. Among the last interesting sights I was to see was the gorgeous plateresque façade of San Bernardo, a church founded by St Teresa. The church, unfortunately, was closed at the time and, not long after, I brought to a close this brief visit to this lovely provincial city. It was a rewarding one, an ambition fulfilled I thought as I left Palencia in what had become a glowing late, sunny afternoon.