<p>The haunting silence dwindled my courage as I penetrated into the pine forest. I was on the slopes of Sierra de Guaddaramma, 124 kilometres from Madrid, in the Segovia province of Spain, to visit the ruins of the Cistercian Monastery of Santa María De la Sierra, declared a National Monument in 1951.</p>.<p>Constructed in the 13th century, it was confiscated by the state and subsequently abandoned in the 19th century before being taken over by Elena Goded Rambaud as a private property. Elena restored the monastery and being a specialist in dyes and fabrics, developed a novel idea of running a hand-made textile brand from this medieval plot itself while simultaneously admitting visitors at least twice a month.</p>.<p class="CrossHead Rag"><strong>A faithful weave</strong></p>.<p>Among the oak groves, on a concrete-sealed clearing, a series of pointy arches soaked the scanty sunlight. The walls revealed patterns — stars and the Holy Cross. The missing ceiling of this Gothic church allowed in ample daylight. Along a crippled wall of the adjacent abbey, a modern renovation had taken place to house the workshop of Abbatte — the brand developed by Elena.</p>.<p>Indigo gurgled in metal containers set on fire ovens. In labelled jars, plant extracts, seeds and dried insects sourced from Egypt, India and South America were stored. Dyed threads of alpaca wool tumbled down its walls. Four local weavers worked on handlooms to weave shawls, carpets, cushions and blankets of silk, wool and hemp.<br />From Abbatte, my car skirted along the hills for 19 kilometres. On both sides, ripples of yellow foliage swayed in the wind, shedding leaves on the road like golden teardrops. Segovia’s connection with the textile industry dates back to the 16th century when Merino sheep were aplenty here. Settlements around the region got prosperous. One such medieval village, Pedraza, was my next stop.</p>.<p class="CrossHead Rag"><strong>Where time stands still</strong></p>.<p>Declared a Monumental Complex in 1951, Pedraza is perched on a rocky outcrop at an altitude of 1073 metres by the river Cega. The first text naming Pedraza dates from the 10th century when the Moors from North Africa ruled the village. In the 11th century, the town passed to the Christians and by the 14th century, the nobility governed Pedraza. The reigns of the town passed to the House of Velasco in the 15th century, paving the path for Pedraza’s golden period during the 16th and 17th century.</p>.<p>I alighted from the vehicle to explore the town on foot. Adjacent to the narrow gates, the only entry and exit point of the town, a medieval prison building loomed. Two storied houses with stone benches by the doors lined the cobble-stoned streets. The outer walls were embellished with geometric motifs made by the sgraffito technique. Potted plants peeked at us from quaint balconies. The wooden doors were crowned with Coats of Arms, signifying the noble legacy of their respective house owners.</p>.<p>I trudged uphill along Calle Real, one of the five main streets gazing at the oddly positioned balcony at the corner of a 16th century house. Occasionally, thin alleys hemmed with the residential quarters of the medieval monks that lanced the cluster of noble houses.</p>.<p>By the door of a shop, a man stood with a wooden pitchfork in hand. “Judion beans €7.90/kg” read the board beside him. Scents of roasted lamb wafted in the air from the neighbouring building. There are many such souvenir shops in Pedraza, operating from the ground floor of the noble houses that sell wooden craft furniture and local delicacies. The others function as restaurants, milky lamb (lamb which has been fed only on milk) being their primary dish.</p>.<p>In 18th-19th century, a livestock crisis led to Pedraza’s abandonment. However, in the late 20th century, rich Spanish, French and English people bought the noble houses and restored them as holiday homes.</p>.<p>Overtime, the town saw an influx of weekend tourism, so much that now restaurants and hotels form the mainstay of the 300-odd residents of Pedraza.</p>.<p class="CrossHead Rag"><strong>Destination weddings too</strong></p>.<p>Slate roofed beige noble houses with nondescript chimneys surround the Plaza Mayor — the main square. Clang clang—the sound rolled through the square from the arches of the tower. The Romanesque church of St John the Baptist, where the nobles gathered for Sunday mass in the medieval times, was seeking attention.</p>.<p>Every September, during the annual bullfight, the holed stones at the corners of the square facilitate the construction of the wooden fencing.</p>.<p>The ‘golden mile’ walk terminated at Pedraza Castle. Built in the 13th century and renovated in the 16th century by the Velasco House, this castle was sold off to painter Ignacio Zuloaga at a price of 12,999 pesetas when the village was abandoned. He restored the ruins and established his art studio here. His heirs now run a museum to exhibit his work. Nowadays, the castle also throws open its doors for lavish destination weddings.</p>.<p>I stood by the cliff, wondering about the weddings, festivals and feasts that the village must have witnessed across the centuries.</p>
<p>The haunting silence dwindled my courage as I penetrated into the pine forest. I was on the slopes of Sierra de Guaddaramma, 124 kilometres from Madrid, in the Segovia province of Spain, to visit the ruins of the Cistercian Monastery of Santa María De la Sierra, declared a National Monument in 1951.</p>.<p>Constructed in the 13th century, it was confiscated by the state and subsequently abandoned in the 19th century before being taken over by Elena Goded Rambaud as a private property. Elena restored the monastery and being a specialist in dyes and fabrics, developed a novel idea of running a hand-made textile brand from this medieval plot itself while simultaneously admitting visitors at least twice a month.</p>.<p class="CrossHead Rag"><strong>A faithful weave</strong></p>.<p>Among the oak groves, on a concrete-sealed clearing, a series of pointy arches soaked the scanty sunlight. The walls revealed patterns — stars and the Holy Cross. The missing ceiling of this Gothic church allowed in ample daylight. Along a crippled wall of the adjacent abbey, a modern renovation had taken place to house the workshop of Abbatte — the brand developed by Elena.</p>.<p>Indigo gurgled in metal containers set on fire ovens. In labelled jars, plant extracts, seeds and dried insects sourced from Egypt, India and South America were stored. Dyed threads of alpaca wool tumbled down its walls. Four local weavers worked on handlooms to weave shawls, carpets, cushions and blankets of silk, wool and hemp.<br />From Abbatte, my car skirted along the hills for 19 kilometres. On both sides, ripples of yellow foliage swayed in the wind, shedding leaves on the road like golden teardrops. Segovia’s connection with the textile industry dates back to the 16th century when Merino sheep were aplenty here. Settlements around the region got prosperous. One such medieval village, Pedraza, was my next stop.</p>.<p class="CrossHead Rag"><strong>Where time stands still</strong></p>.<p>Declared a Monumental Complex in 1951, Pedraza is perched on a rocky outcrop at an altitude of 1073 metres by the river Cega. The first text naming Pedraza dates from the 10th century when the Moors from North Africa ruled the village. In the 11th century, the town passed to the Christians and by the 14th century, the nobility governed Pedraza. The reigns of the town passed to the House of Velasco in the 15th century, paving the path for Pedraza’s golden period during the 16th and 17th century.</p>.<p>I alighted from the vehicle to explore the town on foot. Adjacent to the narrow gates, the only entry and exit point of the town, a medieval prison building loomed. Two storied houses with stone benches by the doors lined the cobble-stoned streets. The outer walls were embellished with geometric motifs made by the sgraffito technique. Potted plants peeked at us from quaint balconies. The wooden doors were crowned with Coats of Arms, signifying the noble legacy of their respective house owners.</p>.<p>I trudged uphill along Calle Real, one of the five main streets gazing at the oddly positioned balcony at the corner of a 16th century house. Occasionally, thin alleys hemmed with the residential quarters of the medieval monks that lanced the cluster of noble houses.</p>.<p>By the door of a shop, a man stood with a wooden pitchfork in hand. “Judion beans €7.90/kg” read the board beside him. Scents of roasted lamb wafted in the air from the neighbouring building. There are many such souvenir shops in Pedraza, operating from the ground floor of the noble houses that sell wooden craft furniture and local delicacies. The others function as restaurants, milky lamb (lamb which has been fed only on milk) being their primary dish.</p>.<p>In 18th-19th century, a livestock crisis led to Pedraza’s abandonment. However, in the late 20th century, rich Spanish, French and English people bought the noble houses and restored them as holiday homes.</p>.<p>Overtime, the town saw an influx of weekend tourism, so much that now restaurants and hotels form the mainstay of the 300-odd residents of Pedraza.</p>.<p class="CrossHead Rag"><strong>Destination weddings too</strong></p>.<p>Slate roofed beige noble houses with nondescript chimneys surround the Plaza Mayor — the main square. Clang clang—the sound rolled through the square from the arches of the tower. The Romanesque church of St John the Baptist, where the nobles gathered for Sunday mass in the medieval times, was seeking attention.</p>.<p>Every September, during the annual bullfight, the holed stones at the corners of the square facilitate the construction of the wooden fencing.</p>.<p>The ‘golden mile’ walk terminated at Pedraza Castle. Built in the 13th century and renovated in the 16th century by the Velasco House, this castle was sold off to painter Ignacio Zuloaga at a price of 12,999 pesetas when the village was abandoned. He restored the ruins and established his art studio here. His heirs now run a museum to exhibit his work. Nowadays, the castle also throws open its doors for lavish destination weddings.</p>.<p>I stood by the cliff, wondering about the weddings, festivals and feasts that the village must have witnessed across the centuries.</p>