miércoles, 19 de diciembre de 2012
Campanas, Torres y Vistas
I've always had a thing for towers, and especially bell towers. There's just something so cool and kind of creepy about them; romantic ideas about princesses, Quasimodo and haunted castles.
This one I came across in Trinidad, Cuba. Once a church, the lower stories now serving as a museum; bearing trucks, flags, guns and maps detailing the revolution. If you pass upstairs, you can get into the tower, which was all I had really been interested in in going there.
At the bottom of the tower sat a lady, knitting. She let me pass and I climbed up to the first level, which lead out onto the red terrace. Continuing up the creaky, wooden, spiral staircase I came upon these large, circular holes that were cut into the towers walls, giving a snapshot view of two opposing sides. Turning to continue up the stairs, the steps giving slightly underfoot, I saw a chair deliberately lain across the stairs. I knew what that meant, I think there was a sign too, written in red capitals, making it more imposing: No se puede pasar. But to me, the sign, the chair... what they seemed to be saying was something more like: Only the faint of heart shall turn back. It seemed more like an invitation to adventure ; a challenge. I couldn't stop before getting to the bells, even if I couldn't make it to the top. I knew that the chubby lady was still knitting at the bottom, and she couldn't see up there. So I climbed over the chair and continued, thinking that I could always say that I hadn't understood the sign.
Around a couple more corners I came across the bells, what I'd been waiting for. Like the circular holes, there were two bells, facing opposite sides. Apparently once you had been allowed to climb up to the bells and maybe beyond, as there was a retro-looking sign asking you not to sound the bells.
Finishing looking out and taking photos, I looked around the next corner. This time there were two folding chairs laid across the stairs along with a couple of planks, which seemed to be saying something more like: No seriously, dude, you should stop now. I don't really know why you couldn't keep climbing, it didn't seem that rickety. Turning on my heel, I started heading down the stairs, when I heard the lady from the bottom calling up to me: No se puede. Guiltily I hurried back, she was leaning passed the - No se puede pasar - sign, watching me return, embarrassed yet so pleased with myself. She muttered disapprovingly under her breath as I threw her a quick - Lo siento - and rushed down the stairs and then out of the building.