The early part of Benjamin of Tudela’s journey on the modern map follows precisely along the northern coastline of the Mediterranean Sea. On the Cotton map from the eleventh century, the route jumps around quite erratically. The text is the most precise about distance and place names of any we have read for this class which makes the struggle to place the locations on a map stand out in even greater relief. The Cotton map seems at first glance to present a close approximation of the Mediterranean coastline, but when one tries to place specific locations, they realize that the proportions are entirely nonsensical and the locations of cities such as Constantinople do not relate accurately to other features even using the logic of the map. The Cotton map has enough labels that I was not guessing for where to mark the locations which made the resulting route even stranger than the coastline alone would imply.

The modern map prioritizes geographic accuracy. The proportions and coastlines are all designed to be as close to real life as possible. Every city and town is included regardless of their importance or size. This precision allowed me to map Benjamin of Tudela’s route exactly town by town with the distances and time between locations matching those listed in the text. Modern maps claim to represent objective factual depictions of the world. They strive to depict the world as it is not through symbols. My map of Benjamin’s route is still symbolic, however, because I cannot accurately match every stop he took to a modern city. The walking paths shown are in no way parallels to the medieval roads, and there is no way to know which he may have taken if they were because he offers no details as to the specifics of his journey.

The Cotton map, like other pre-modern maps, makes no attempt at accuracy. The map itself is oriented by religious principles with east at the top because of its proximity to paradise. Unlike similar Christian maps, Jerusalem is not in the middle as the perceived center of the world. The middle of the map is instead dominated by jarringly rectangular divisions of the land between the twelve tribes of Isreal. Christian theology still dominates the map. The exact locations and shapes of landmasses and cities are secondary to their theological importance. Some of the most detailed cites are Rome, Jerusalem, Alexandria, and Babylon because they are all places of importance within biblical sources. Banjamin of Tudela’s route looks bizarre when transposed onto the Cotton map because the relative location of these cities was seen as unimportant. The map was not intended to guide travel so much as it was mean to provide a snapshot of the Christian world.

The medieval travel writer’s journey was viewed in similarly symbolic terms. While the practicalities of travel were a matter of great concern, they are never the focus of the narrative. They focus on the sites and people they encountered. None of the travel narratives we have read for class were intended to be guides that people followed to recreate their journeys. The books are representations of the places that are passed through the lens of the author’s perspective. The stress of traveling only rarely appears and even then, it is glossed over on the way to the next place of note. Medieval travel writers recorded their stories to show the people they returned to an image of the world, but, like the medieval maps, they only discussed the parts they considered important, not the complete picture. Travel was something monumental that deserved acknowledgment, but it was justified by the value of the things the traveler saw rather than the act itself. Travel for its own sake was a frivolous waste of time and money, so the traveler, and especially the travel writer, had to make sure they emphasized the glory of their journey and hid they unglamorous realities that made it possible.

Neither medieval maps nor medieval travel narratives are concerned with realistic portrayals of geography. The meaning places were imbued with was far more important than their relative locations. These depictions were never intended for practical use. They were meant instead for reflection and consideration by an audience that had very little regard for the exact location of the Mediterranean islands or how much water one should carry across the Sahara Desert. Medieval travelers did not expect others to emulate them because few people actually traveled; there was simply no need for precision when the audience would never find out.