Alhambra Now, Sleep Later: The Granada Chronicles Part III

As ridiculous as it may seem, Dana, Katie, and I were at the Alhambra's doors promptly at 5am on Sunday, with blankets and snacks.

That's us with two other girls from the program who were also in Granada that weekend. Thank you, German boy who we met in line but whose name we never got, for taking this picture! Despite the three chilly hours we spent sitting on the cold cement and nibbling on Lay's potato chips and Príncipe cookies, the wait was rather enjoyable. The situation itself was sort of ridiculous and we met some other students who kept us entertained, including German boy from Bonn. At 8am, when the ticket office opened, we began suspiciously eyeing the credit card line, praying that the people selling tickets would not move so slowly that the credit card line could claim victory over us cash-bearers. Finally, a little after 8am, we got our hands on the coveted pieces of paper otherwise known as tickets. Mission accomplished. Granada trip not in vain.

It is difficult to describe, however good one may be with words, the beauty of the Alhambra (with the exception of Washington Irving). Instead, I offer you a series of pictures of the best--and most beautiful--example of Muslim architecture in the world. Enjoy!

Nasrid Palace:

stucco etching and tiles

arched windows with a view of Granada

etched wall in courtyard with tiled doorframes

the fountain in the middle was being restored

ceiling

arches

Generalife Gardens:

Generalife Palace

P.S.-I apologize for the amount of time it took to post all the Granada posts. After my return from Granada, I had a lot of work to do and a nasty cold to deal with. Fortunately, I am finished just in time for my trip to Córdoba, so expect new material soon!

Alhambra Now, Sleep Later: The Granada Chronicles Part II

I awoke very early on Saturday morning, convinced that I would see the Alhambra that day. By 7am, Dana, Katie, and I were standing in line on the hill, shivering, but excited to see the glorious fortress. At 8am, the box office opened. A voice announced that there were 80 tickets left for the morning tour and 103 tickets left for the afternoon tour. Surely, we were part of the first 80 people (don't call me Shirley), and if not, definitely part of the next 103 people. The line had barely moved when the voice announced that the morning tickets were sold out. How? Confusion swept through the queue. To whom had these mysterious tickets been issued? Rumors surfaced about another line somewhere. Ten minutes later, all the afternoon tickets were sold out as well. All around us, there was great displeasure. After some eavesdropping and some inquiries, we were elucidated to the fact that there had, indeed, been another line. A line for people paying with credit cards. A line that moved much faster than the taquilla* because the people working there moved at a glacial pace. Joder.** Getting out of line, we decided to be proactive and arrive at 5am the following morning. We were not leaving Granada without seeing the Alhambra.

Hungry, we decided to head to the Albaicín to desayunar*** and explore. The Albaicín is the old, Moorish neighborhood--situated on a hill facing the Alhambra. The streets are narrow, cobblestone, and uneven, going this way and that. The houses are whitewashed with terracotta roofs and ceramic flower pots are cheerfully lined up on windowsills. The quaint neighborhood bears the feeling of a seaside town, even though there is no body of water nearby. The cars parked on the streets almost seem like anachronisms.

It was still relatively early when the bus dropped us off at the Albaicín's doorstep, so we wandered aimlessly, our stomachs growling and our eyes searching for an open cafetería.**** A man walked by us carrying loaves of bread. Immediately, we trotted in the direction from which the man had come and stumbled upon a bakery. Greedy from hunger, we stocked up on various pastries as well as a big loaf of bread to share. Happy, like Dickensian orphans with their daily bread, we continued walking and stopped at a café to have some coffee. The café was just like any other café in Spain: small, bustling, and warm. However, its location in a neighborhood that felt more like an old town made it all the more cozy. People seemed to know each other and the atmosphere was very homely. Women were having their morning coffee together while elderly gentlemen in cardigans sat discussing the latest news. I felt as though I had been transported into another time. Sometimes, it is difficult to believe that places such as this café still exist when you spend most of your time in a modern, bustling, metropolitan center.

Considering the Albaicín's opportune location on a hill, it hosts some seriously splendid views of Granada below:

Furthermore, while we were in the café infiltrating our bodily systems with caffeine--at least I was--the neighborhood around us woke up. Upon exiting the café, we encountered a market selling produce.

People were going on about their daily lives or simply strolling, enjoying the October sun. Take that, Alhambra.

*box office

**fuck

***to have breakfast

****café

Alhambra Now, Sleep Later: The Granada Chronicles Part I

Considering the visual dent I made on Facebook with my 200+ pictures of Granada, it is no secret that this past weekend, I traveled to Granada. For the geographically challenged (don't be ashamed, I once thought Ireland was somewhere near Italy myself), Granada is located in southern Spain in the autonomous community of Andalucía. Andalucía is the biggest autonomous community in Spain and was once ruled by Muslims. Muslim influence is very visible throughout the city, particularly in the architecture of the older buildings, and, of course, the Alhambra itself.

It would be unfair to say that the trip began once my feet touched the Granada soil--or cement. The trip commenced approximately at 12:50am the night before, when I got on the metro headed towards the airport. Was my flight at 3am or another crazy hour that, crazy as it was, could merit my arrival at Barajas at 1:30am? Absolutely not. My flight was at 6:30am, but a taxi ride to the airport is about 35E, so my logic should be rather evident here. Upon our arrival at the airport, my friends and I discovered that we were not, in fact, the only ones who had had the idea of spending the night at the airport for the sake of saving money. Terminal 1 was lined with people curled up under fleece blankets, jackets, sweaters, and each other. Finding a small piece of wall conveniently by the Ryan Air check-in desk, we settled down and tried to get some rest, although that soon proved to be impossible considering the floor was freezing. By the time we were herded onto the plane at 6:15am, we were gasping for some shuteye.

Two and a half hours later, I got off the bus in el centro*. I looked around, the city strange to me. Following the directions to the hostel that I had written down, I walked through small, café-laden, cobblestone streets. It was still relatively early and the city was just waking up. Shopkeepers were slowly opening doors and waiters were lazily setting up terrace seating under the kindling sun. On my left was a massive, Gothic cathedral: the Granada Cathedral, home to the tombs of the Catholic Monarchs. Palm trees sparsely surrounded the cathedral, creating an unusual view.

Passing banks and little cafeterías,** I found my street, a charming passage with old, European buildings and a cozy feel.

After a rejuvenating nap--not factoring in the disturbingly close cooing of pigeons that I expected to see fly through the open window--I set out to explore Granada. During the hours I had been napping, life had sprung up around the cathedral. The perimeter was surrounded by a bustling market selling everything from weight loss herbs to earrings. One side of the cathedral was lined with baskets of teas, herbs, spices, and sugared donuts. I lingered to smell the sweet aroma of rooibos and to marvel at the vibrant color of the azafrán molido.*** Just around the corner, I discovered paradise: endless tables piled high with every variety of candy imaginable and mounds of pastries and freshly baked breads. Chocolate-covered palmeras**** and citrus-glazed shortcake smiled at me as I wrestled the crowd's arms out of my way and fought for a narrow path to go forward. The narrow streets opened up to a square filled with artisan booths selling scarves, bags, and hand-crafted jewelry. Burning incense and drums filled the air. Vendors were roasting chestnuts and grilling corn; the savory smoke danced into the blue skies.

As I approached the entrance to the cathedral, a woman stuffed a rosemary stem into my hand. Knowing better than to accept random objects from random people on the street, I murmured muchas gracias***** and tried to give the rosemary back to her, but the lady insisted that it was free, so I shrugged and tried to keep walking. Tried. She stopped me, grabbed my hand, and started reading my palm. Eh, what the hell, it's free, I thought. I waited patiently for her to finish because I don't need lines on my hands to tell me that I'm intelligent or that I will have one great love in life. Bitch, please. Ahora paga.******I snapped out of my stupor. Crafty, conniving, crooked-toothed gypsy. Me dijo que es gratis. Sí, solo el romero. No. Paga, todos pagan. No. Venga, una moneda. Dije que no.******* I won, but as I walked away unscathed, I heard the woman mutter, que rompas tu cabeza. No entiendes nada de la belleza.********Yep, I'll get right on that.

The cathedral itself was interesting, mainly because of the tombs of the Catholic Monarchs and the small exhibition of their relics, such as scepters and robes. I have been to so many cathedrals in my life that only dead royalty could lure me into another one. There was also a collection of Renaissance art, but let's be real here, why would I want to see more Jesus paintings? I think I have seen enough Madonnas, crucifixions, St. Whatevers (and their lambs), and tryptichs of whatever assumption. But the tombs were cool.

*the center

**cafés

***ground saffron

****elephant ear pastries

*****thank you very much

******now pay

*******You told me it was free. Yes, only the rosemary. No. Pay, everyone pays. No. Come on, a coin. I said no.

********I hope you break your head. You know nothing of beauty.