Driving into Guadalupe, in Extremadura, Spain, along winding roads lined with cork oaks and olive trees, our first view of the photogenic town comes from a viewpoint called the Mirador de Guadalupe. From this place, the view of the town with its terracotta roofs, white chimneys, and the Gothic monastery rising above them, framed against the Villuercas mountain range, makes me feel like I have stumbled upon a hidden world guarded for centuries.
My home away from home is a Parador, a chain of state-run hotels across Spain, set inside historic heritage buildings like monasteries, convents, and palaces. This particular parador is housed in an ancient stone building that has merged two old buildings, including the 15th-century Hospital of St. John the Baptist.
My room is simple and comfortable, with a four-poster bed, a wooden study and wardrobe, and a calm that feels almost monastic. In the middle of the property is a courtyard with lemon trees, figs, and herbs perfuming the air. The cozy lounge and bar are decorated with ancient maps, engravings, and tiles, and in lighted niches there are images of monks, each reminding you that this quiet mountain village once stood at the crossroads of empires. Opposite our hotel is the 18th-century Baroque church of Trinidad, which is now an exhibition centre and concert hall.
The village was once a departure point from where conquistadors left the rugged land centuries ago to make their fortunes in the New World. We explore the main church of the town with a bronze and jasper fountain and a beautiful 17th-century Renaissance-style altar. Inside is the famous image of the Virgin of Guadalupe, carved in dark wood, patron saint of Latin America, enriched over time by donations from kings and wealthy people. Legend has it that a shepherd found a statue of the Virgin which had been buried to save it from Moorish invaders, and a chapel was built on this site by King Alfonso XI after he won a battle.
In front of the church is the Plaza Mayor, lined with a fountain and restaurants and cafes. Young students kick a football as tourists sip on coffee at the outdoor tables. It is said the fountain was used by Christopher Columbus to baptize the first Native Americans that he brought from America.
Most people visit the town to visit the UNESCO-heritage-listed Royal Monastery of Santa María de Guadalupe, a place that feels alive in the way only very old places do. As I step inside, a tranquillity settles around me immediately. Soft light drifts across the Mudéjar-style (Islamic and Christian traditions intertwined) cloister with horseshoe-shaped arches, and with every echoing footstep, one can sense the weight of its layered history.
A guided tour of the monastery museums, in rooms situated around the cloister, is a sensory feast. On display in illuminated cabinets are ancient manuscripts, embroidered robes, silver ornaments used in worship, and other objects that have outlived their makers by hundreds of years. My guide, David Polo, explains that the monastery is connected to defining moments in Spain’s story: the reconquest of the Iberian Peninsula from the Moors, and the iconic voyage of Christopher Columbus. Queen Isabella made several visits here, including a thanksgiving after the conquest of Granada in 1492, and brought precious gifts like tapestries and jewellery.
The scent of old wood and incense lingers in the air, reminding you that these rooms have witnessed everything from triumphs to turning points in history. In the 18th-century Baroque sacristy, with a beautifully decorated ceiling, are paintings by famous Spanish artist Francisco de Zurbarán, from 1638. Another room holds paintings by masters like El Greco and Goya, as well as an ivory statue of Christ, attributed to Michelangelo. A personal favourite is the museum of gargantuan choir books that were handwritten on vellum, with exquisite illustrations, and were so large that the entire choir could see it.
The monastery was looted by the French during the Peninsular War and later abandoned in the 19th century. But in the 20th century, the Franciscans took it over, and thanks to them, the monastery still stands in full splendour today.
We wander through the village with its steep roads lined with typical houses with porticoes and wooden balconies, bead curtains on their front doors, and a statue of the Virgin above the entrance. We walk along the Plaza de los Chorros, where a 15th-century stone fountain acts like a roundabout. Traditional two-story arcaded houses, with the first floor supported by wooden beams decorated with potted plants, line the street.
Three ancient arches once functioned like gates to protect the trading activities and also to manage the crowds of pilgrims in the past. There is the Arch of Seville, built to safeguard the pilgrims in the past, and the Arco del Tinte, which is a nod to the dye factories that existed here in the past. My favourite building is the 15th-century Mudéjar Gallery with arcaded rooms along Calle Neuva de los Capellanes, with stocky striped columns and arches.
Another stunning building in town is the Hospedería del Real Monasterio, set in a former wing of the monastery where a Gothic cloister and an old school of medicine once existed. Opened to the public in 1972 as a luxury hotel, it offers comfortable rooms with high vaulted ceilings and canopied beds. There’s a bar tucked into the cloisters, and meals are served nearby. Throughout the town, stone fountains still run with water from the Arca del Agua, a 14th-century water distribution system.
The food served in the small restaurants of the town and in the Parador is rustic peasant food rooted in tradition, like bean soups, rustic cheeses with quince paste, migas: a dish made of bread crumbs combining fried stale bread, red peppers, pork or bacon, garlic, and smoked paprika.
On our last day in the town, we walk one more time to the Mirador viewpoint to get one final panoramic view of the red roofs and the monastery and church. In Guadalupe, history is not something you read—it’s something that you feel around you.