You can’t escape the sense that El Escorial was built as Philip was encountering meet-his-maker gloom. The architecture of the exterior and of the church is looming, imposing and grey. Muscular statues of saints peer down at you, giants three times your size. You first encounter colour in the church: a towering altar of gold (no doubt stolen from South American indians) glimmering out of the dark interior. It’s bright, but not festive. The paintings set in the altarpiece are masterpieces of a woeful Christianity: Christ’s blood and pain is graphically displayed, the Virgin weeps, martyrs meet horrific deaths. On either side of the altar are rather spookily lifelike, life-sized statues … Philip on one side, his son on the other, with wives … kneeling in obvious piety. Impressive, but definitely not cheerful!

The mood of serious contemplation continues below the church in the royal tombs. The 19th century redecorators got here, so it’s a different style of opulence … but it still makes you sombre as you walk though room after room of monuments to the dead. Don’t miss it though; it’s one of the most impressive parts of the place.

Fortunately the mood picks up in the palace sections. Philip didn’t intend El Escorial for frivolity, but his descendants recognised a good spot and re-fitted it for their needs. There’s a long procession of rooms with light and airy interiors, impressive art treasures and wonderful views over gardens into the valley of Madrid below.

My favourite part of the place, however, is the library. This must have been a battle between Philip’s younger self and the man waiting for death. Because with religious obsession we get a glorious celebration of life and the knowledge that makes it worth living. The ceilings are painted in glorious, still-fresh colours with an exuberance that reminds you of Michaelangelo’s Sistine ceiling. We enjoyed spending time "reading" the paintings. Each section of the ceiling illustrates a certain branch of knowledge with scenes from human history. The giant globes … both terrestrial and celestial … remind you that Spain was master of the earth at that time. And the books! Row after row of beautifully bound masterpieces in exquisitely carved bookshelves. All from a time when owning just ONE book was a sign of great wealth.

Call me a heathen, but had I been Philip I would have wanted to meet my maker here, in the library!

To reach it is simple from the capital. The subway station Moncloa houses a bus station for northwest Castile. At its lower level is the Herranz bus 644 which departs every half hour to the village of San Lorenso de Escorial. The town itself is very pretty and perches on the edge of the Guadarrama mountains and the journey itself takes you past the infamous Valle de los Caidos - Valley of the Fallen - a giant cross that houses Franco's tomb.

To get a feel for El Escorial then you must remember it was the creation of the most powerful man in the world - Phillip II. The monarch of worlds first global superpower - Catholic Spain in an empire that stretched from Manila to Cuzco. This devout monarch seeked a refuge from his congested capital and built a palace where he lived a penitent hermetic existence. With treasure ships bringing gold and silver from South America - he could afford to indulge his whims. But his religious fervour is what always is remembered about him and his use of the inquistion.

From the outside, it looks like an austere rectangular prison topped by a baroque dome and towers. But inside it is built with cool Colemar stone and leads from green courtyards up to royal rooms decorated with pictures by El Greco and Titian. Each room is simple in its austerity and decorated with blue azulejas (tiles). The place is so large and winding that it is easy to escape the crowds and have pictures of Rivera and Degas all to yourself.

The royal apartments were the most decorated and overlooked the valley of Escorial on one side and directly onto the chapel on the other side. It was said that King Phillip liked to listen to mass from his bed. His gout chair stood nearby. More interesting was the Salle de Batalla. Great picture of Spanish battles adorned the walls usually taking place in the Netherlands. Then you follow the hordes down to the Pantheon Real - the final resting place of the Habsburg and Bourbon monarchs. Saicophagi of the Spanish monarchs lined the walls in little niches in a room decorated in gilt, red and black marble and jasper. And the tomb of the infantas was designed to hold the remains of sixty royal babies - it was already half full.