Segovia

From the top of the aqueduct staircase, walk west along Calle Cervantes as it becomes Calle Juan Bravo — Segovia's spine, ten minutes of tiled facades past the 15th-century Casa de los Picos, its wall studded with 617 stone diamonds. The Cathedral is the last great Gothic built in Spain (finished 1577), honey-colored limestone, an 88-meter bell tower, a forest of pinnacles against the meseta sky. Circle the exterior starting from Plaza Mayor, then round the cloister side to see the flying buttresses.

Tip: The clean facade shot is from the northeast corner of Plaza Mayor in front of the Juan Bravo Theater — the south door and the bell tower compose together from there. Wait for 11:00 and the quarter-hour bells; they still carry the old cadence.

Cross Plaza Mayor diagonally to Calle Isabel la Católica — two minutes and you're at the pastry counter Segovianos have been queuing at since 1976. Order a Ponche Segoviano (€4, the city's signature marzipan-and-custard cake with a caramelized lattice on top — invented by this family) and a bocadillo de lomo (€6, pork loin sandwich). Stand at the bar with a café con leche; you're out in half an hour.

Tip: The Ponche Segoviano here is the reference version — every other shop in town is imitating. Do not waste this slot on cochinillo at any restaurant; you need the stomach real estate for Cándido tonight.

From Limón y Menta continue west along Calle Marqués del Arco — ten minutes through the quietest lanes in town, past the Romanesque San Andrés church and the narrow stone alleys of the old Jewish Quarter. The road opens onto Plaza de la Reina Victoria Eugenia and suddenly it is there: a ship of stone on a rock prow, slate-blue cones so sharp Walt Disney sketched them for Cinderella. Cross the drawbridge, circle the base of the Juan II tower, then retreat to the plaza gardens for the frontal view.

Tip: Stand by the plaza fountain slightly left of center where a young cedar frames the right turret — around 15:00 the sun sits over your shoulder and the slate cones go electric blue. Skip the interior as planned; the magic of this building is the silhouette, not the rooms.

Walk back across the drawbridge and take the steep stone path Cuesta de los Hoyos down the north flank — eight minutes of switchbacks through oak and juniper, and the meadow opens below you. Turn around: the Alcazar rises 80 meters above on its triangular rock prow, the Clamores and Eresma rivers meeting at its feet. Late afternoon the western sun hits the castle's west face full-on — the stone turns gold, the turrets go nearly black — and you realize this is the angle every postcard in the country is taken from.

Tip: Walk 50 meters further north along the meadow path to a lone poplar tree; its trunk makes a natural foreground frame for the castle. Arrive 90 minutes before sunset — only the final 40 minutes of light are the ones worth waiting for.

Climb back up Cuesta de los Hoyos (twelve minutes uphill — you'll be hungry enough to power through), then down Calle Real through the now lantern-lit old town; twenty-five minutes total and you arrive at the aqueduct just as the floodlights switch on. The Cándido family has been cooking under these arches since 1905: cochinillo asado (€28) carved tableside with the edge of a china plate, then the plate smashed on the floor to prove the pig is that tender. Start with judiones de La Granja (€18, giant white beans stewed with chorizo) and a glass of Ribera del Duero (€5).

Tip: Reserve ahead at mesondecandido.es (weekends sell out days in advance) and ask for the upstairs dining room with the window onto the aqueduct. Pitfall: the ring of restaurants around Plaza del Azoguejo mostly exists to catch tour groups — laminated five-language menus with photos are the tell. Only Cándido and Mesón de José María are worth the cochinillo price in this city; skip every other sign with a pig on it.