Friday afternoon in a cold Cordoba

Maimonides (Moses ben Maimon) born in Cordoba in 1135 and died in Egypt in 1204. He was a great Jewish scholar, philosopher and physician. At the age of twenty three he fled with his family to Fez to escape religious persecution by the fanatical Almohads in al-Andalus.
I kept seeing his tempting figure trying to find the synagogue in Calle Judios. Eventually found it today, opposite the back entrance to the Courtyard of the Artisans, hidden behind a statue, through a small courtyard. It is tiny and empty. Except for a large group of Japanese tourists today. It is the only synagogue left in Cordoba. Tall and square and empty but for the inscriptions and motifs on the walls.
Apart from finding this building, I have half hunted all week for gifts to take home for my daughters. I've looked at so much jewellry, been tempted by beautiful hair combs, but very expensive. And would they wear them? The people in the shops have been very helpful and kind. The only person who I felt was slightly too helpful shall we say, was in the Courtyard of the Artisans just by the synagogue. There is a great deal of filigree around, very pretty, but we have some and it can go green if not worn regularly. Today, the right gift appeared. It was in a leather goods shop and I would definitely recommend leather as a gift. Two little bags, one dark, one light, long handles, pockets. Perfect. And the shop owner, after wrapping them, stuck little labels on them so that I called write their names and so know which was which. There was a massive old cash register on the desk. Very pleasant shopping.
Fourteen euros each.
Lunch in the little cafe in the square by the archeological museum. The tables and chairs were all piled up as it was cold. Inside, empty, but for the barman and one customer watching a bonkers show on the wall mounted television. Obviously hilarious, but lost on me. Had a slice of thick omelette and a fino. So delicious.
And the cold potato omelette, bit heavy. Like cake.

A breezy, chilly day growing colder. I would recommend gloves and a scarf. I had a scarf, but didn't think I'd need gloves. Of course, it's unusually cold this year in Cordoba, but I could have done with a pair.
I feel I belong here, winding streets, children being picked up from school, often by their fathers, grandparents, mothers, different times of day for things to happen than in England, an easy mix of young and old, new and ancient, smooth and crumbling. Crumbling doesn't mean, 'knock it down' here, it means, live in it, it's a home and the streets aren't precious, drive down them, pedestrains, get out of the way. No street too narrow, not a four wheel drive in sight. Now, in a city, doesn't that make your heart sing? Cordoba seems to have got it right. Oh, did I mention it has a communist council? I'm sure I have.