They say that Cuba's forests were once so dense and lush that one could walk from one end of the island to the other under a continuous canopy of shade. However, with the conquest came plunder. For example, Spain began to be built with the quality and resilience of our cedar.
Finding a trace of that wood was the main reason that led me to the Royal Monastery of San Lorenzo de El Escorial. In tourism guides, it is promoted as the "eighth wonder of the world." I wouldn’t dare to assign it a number; there is too much world to see with my own eyes.
However, I can confirm its grandeur. Although visiting in winter is recommended when the cold air seems to cut through your breath, my chance came in summer. Despite the scorching heat outside, the mystery and beauty of the place envelop and calm you.
We hadn't yet reached the huge square that surrounds it. We were searching for the route when we stopped at the side of the sanctuary of the Virgin of Grace, on Floridablanca Street. The chapel dedicated to the patron saint of El Escorial already existed when King Philip II ordered the construction of the monastery in 1561.
There was a very old man sitting on the bench that offered a view of where Capilla Street meets Floridablanca. Seeing us curiously trying to photograph everything that impressed us, he said: "Those two mountains are called Las Machotas." He told us more: that they were preparing for the patron saint festivities of San Lorenzo starting on August 9th, and that the Virgin’s pilgrimage takes place on the second Sunday of September.
His presence was fleeting; in the blink of an eye, that enigmatic old man disappeared, leaving us with the image of the peaks, perfectly framed by that imposing profile of the Sierra de Guadarrama, which guards a reverent silence before El Escorial. We started with the garden, with its meticulous design and serene atmosphere. We feared the wasps, but none stung us.
The area preserves the condition of a Renaissance landscape masterpiece, with geometric flower beds and the murmur of fountains, although the topiaries no longer reach their original dimensions. A restoration process attempts to reclaim that splendor of foliage shaped by pruning shears. Climate change threatens plants that Spain will never see again.
But the garden of El Escorial has secured a place in memory, with the iconic scene of Sara Montiel in the film *La Violetera* (1958) filmed there. Since people around here love gossip, I found out that Charles Chaplin lost a lawsuit when composer José Padilla sued him for using the melody without permission in his film *City Lights* (1931). That’s why, every time the blind flower seller appears, the song plays without sound.
The Royal Monastery is not only a testament to Spanish Renaissance history and architecture but also a setting for significant cultural and social events. Lola Flores, the legendary Faraona, chose the basilica for her wedding in 1957. The place inspires reverence as a museum of sacred art with the main altar adorned with marble and gold, the vaults painted by Luca Giordano, the altarpiece by Juan de Herrera, and works by Titian in the sacristy.
Centuries ago, life in El Escorial was a blend of solemnity and activity. The monks were expert craftsmen, spending their time producing illuminated manuscripts, making wine in the monastery’s vineyards, and crafting products in the tailoring and bookbinding workshops. As we walked through the corridors, we imagined how that wood, which had traveled across the ocean from the Caribbean, contributed to the grandeur of the building.
My search for Cuban woods reached its peak in the library. I had to resist the urge to touch the shelves, the grain, and the rich texture. With nearly 40,000 volumes, it is comparable to the Sistine Chapel for the frescoes on its vaults.
It houses incunabula by St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas, as well as a valuable collection of engravings, drawings, coins, and medals.
The books are arranged with the spines facing inward, which has sparked speculation, though it is an aesthetic and practical choice. I share images of the exhibits, such as a Bible in Hebrew and Aramaic; a manuscript with the *Relación de ceremonias y ritos de indios de Michoacán*, a golden codex, and the book of chess, dice, and tables. The most solemn and mystical site is the royal pantheon.
Almost all the monarchs of the houses of Austria and Bourbon rest there. Photos are not allowed in that area, although they are permitted in the preceding vaults where the infants are buried. It is said that bodies were covered with lime and in the room called *Pudridero*, they remained for 25 to 30 years until they were ready for burial in the marble coffins.
The king did not attend the inauguration, although he ordered its construction to commemorate the victory of San Quintín in 1557 and as a tomb for his parents. We passed by one of the first imperial staircases in Spain. We peeked into the queen's quarters with a view of the private gardens.
We were moved by the main altar of the old church where Titian's *The Martyrdom of St. Lawrence* is displayed. Other works by Titian are found in the gallery, and we were particularly drawn to *The Last Supper*.
At the popular level, when something lasts a long time, it is said to last longer than "the work of El Escorial." It was completed in 1584, after about 21 years. It is often compared to the time it took to build the Taj Mahal (23 years).
Experts in the field dismiss that phrase because they consider the execution process normal when compared to the 182 years it took to complete Notre Dame Cathedral, or they draw their swords with Gaudí’s Sagrada Familia, still unfinished. A dark episode looms over the place. In the echoes of its corridors and the serenity of its gardens, a more recent and controversial story is felt: the extraction of wood by Franco's regime for the construction of the Valley of the Fallen.
Despite that, and in general, fires, occupations, and wars, the complex remains intact. It was declared a World Heritage Site in 1984. We were exhausted from touring the monastery, climbing, and descending stairs.
As we moved away toward the sun, we longed for that continuous canopy of shade from the ancient forests. Walking through Cuba in the shade seems like a utopia to us. Near San Lorenzo Square, we remembered the old man who pointed out Las Machotas, and we left with a thirst to discover what was not shown.
This is how you savor the enigmas hidden from public view, those that El Escorial has harbored for centuries. Translated by Linet Acuña Quilez.
