Patio de los Naranjos

Don’t think of the Seville Cathedral as just a cold behemoth made of ornate stones; right next to it hides a green heart that has been beating for over 800 years: the Courtyard of the Oranges (Patio de los Naranjos). This square, filled with orange trees, wasn’t built by later generations for landscaping. It is the only “living survivor” of the original Great Mosque that was otherwise destroyed. When zealous Christians leveled the mosque to build their mega-cathedral, they simply couldn’t bear to destroy this exotic garden. So, miraculously, it survived and became the front yard of a Catholic church.

Stand in the center of the courtyard, and you will see dozens of orange trees planted in perfect grids, with a network of water channels crisscrossing the ground. Back in the 12th century, this wasn’t a park for afternoon tea; it was a massive “outdoor bathhouse.” For the Muslims of that time, before entering the main hall to pray, they absolutely had to wash their hands, faces, and feet here. If you look closely at the ancient fountain pool in the center, you’ll find that its stone basin is actually an even older trophy—a Roman-era relic snatched by the Muslims from the Visigoths before them. In this courtyard, even a stone used for washing feet is carved with the bloody history of multiple regime changes.

For those unfamiliar with Islamic culture, you might not realize what water and trees mean in a religion born in the desert. In the descriptions of the Quran, Paradise is literally a garden with flowing rivers. Therefore, this courtyard was essentially a 1:1 scale “earthly paradise experience center” at the time. Also, don’t be fooled by the golden oranges hanging heavily on the branches; these are the infamous “Seville bitter oranges.” In ancient times, people planted these incredibly sour, virtually inedible oranges mainly to extract essential oils. They used the overwhelming scent of orange blossoms to mask the suffocating stench of the medieval city.

Speaking of which, we have to mention a completely absurd and out-of-place object hanging near the courtyard’s entrance. If you look up at the ceiling of the portico leading into the cathedral, you’ll gasp: there is actually a giant, multi-meter-long mummified crocodile hanging from iron chains! What’s the story here? In 1260, the Sultan of Egypt wanted to marry the daughter of the Spanish King Alfonso X. To woo her, he sent a live, massive Nile crocodile as a hardcore engagement gift. The princess flat-out rejected the proposal, but the innocent crocodile stayed in Seville until it died of old age. To show off this bizarre exotic beast, the Spaniards taxidermied it and hung it right at the entrance of the holy cathedral, turning it into the most bizarre medieval action figure.

Next time you walk into this courtyard in early spring and smell that intoxicatingly strong scent of orange blossoms, will you close your eyes and imagine the devotion of Muslims washing their feet before heading to the mosque, or will you inevitably look up at that unlucky crocodile, dried and hung overhead for 700 years after a failed marriage proposal?