Reminds me of this quote from Tonya Riley's _The Staff Engineer's Path_:

> In The Art of Travel (Vintage), Alain de Botton talks about the frustration of learning new information that doesn’t connect to anything you already know—like the sorts of facts you might pick up while visiting a historic building in a foreign land. He writes about visiting Madrid’s Iglesia de San Francisco el Grande and learning that “the sixteenth-century stalls in the sacristy and chapter house come from the Cartuja de El Paular, the Carthusian monastery near Segovia.” Without a connection back to something he was already familiar with, the description couldn’t spark his excitement or curiosity. The new facts, he wrote, were “as useless and fugitive as necklace beads without a connecting chain.”

That's kind of weird, isn't it?

Like, presumably you'd know something of monastaries, materials, manufacturing...

"“the sixteenth-century stalls in the sacristy and chapter house come from the Cartuja de El Paular, the Carthusian monastery near Segovia.” "

tells me that 500 years ago, the church reused either entire stalls or perhaps materials from another presumably older church that's near Segovia. I'd infer that there must have been some importance to both the intitial act and the preservation of the fact. Probably due to religious orders preferring lineage and continuity.

Without knowing anything at all about either facility, the countries involved, or really just anything at all, I can still tell that we're observing the heritage of traditions and know enough to ask after details of how this facility relates to the one near Segovia.