Granada

Granada

August 8th and 9th

Our last stop in our 9 day journey through Spain before we hit Sorbas for our volunteer program. This was an added stop and cut our time in Madrid short but turned out to be a good detour. The bus ride took us through the olive area of Spain. When I say olive area I don’t mean just a few farms - this is an olive region of the country where there was literally an olive tree 20 feet on center in every direction for probably a hundred miles or more. It did not matter whether it was a hillside, a valley, a rock or crevice, if an olive tree could grow there they planted one. In fact this region of Spain is where the olive oil industry began. I did my best to snap pictures but when you are traveling at 65 mph and using a point and shoot camera you can only go so far. The rolling terrain became more arid and desert-like as we headed south. It was as if we were in Arizona up near Cottonwood. It was also becoming hotter. Granada was a great little town and we had probably the best hotel we have had along the trip and it was actually the cheapest. This was a real hotel with a lobby and restaurant and our bathroom was not a shoe box. We even had enough room to do our laundry in the tub and string it across the room to dry. (Brilliant).

We had a day and a half in town and our main goal was to see the El Alhambra palace. We tried to get tickets on the internet but it said it was sold out! We had made the trip to Granada specifically to see this place so we booked a guided tour thinking that was the only way we were going to get in but did so reluctantly because it was going to cost a fortune. We were set so we thought. During dinner Patti kept checking her emails on her blackberry to see if we had received our final confirmation for the tour but it never arrived, so she was forced to call the booking company and they still could not help confirm our spot with the tour company. They told her to call back the next morning at 10:00 to check in. She explained to them as diplomatically and as quickly as she could because the call was costing $1.00 a minute, that this was not feasible since our tour was supposed to be at 10:00. She finally hung up on them and we took our chances based on a tip from the information both attendant at the bus station that we could probably get into the Palace if we got up early and arrived as soon as it opened to get tickets.

The early morning in Granada was perfect for our stroll through old town and all the way up the steep hillside to El Alhambra that presides over the town. Taking in the cool breeze and outstanding landscape along the tree-lined pathway we reached the top along with the hundreds of other early bird tourists already in line. After waiting in line for about an hour without knowing if it was even possible to get a ticket and not having heard back from the tour company, Patti exited the line to see if she could find out some more information. Unbeknownst to most of the people there was a an area where you could buy a ticket on an automated machine with your credit card for a later time, and that is what we did. We were getting into El Alhambra!!! We immediately sent an email to the tour company and cancelled our reservation and we were on our way. It was a blessing we got there so early because it took about 5 hours to go through the whole compound and gardens and when the sun came out in full force it was a little hot. Immediately upon entering my picture taking began. I believe I set a one day record for probably 75 pictures of every nook and cranny you could find. It was an amazing collection of fascinating buildings, rooms, chambers, courtyards and gardens perfectly fitted to the hill top and built over several centuries by different occupants with different evolving styles. The elaborated detail of the tile mosaics and sculpted columns and 3D patterned ceilings baffled us. I was astonished. How did they do this? Who did this? The design concepts were amazing enough but how did they actually get it built to this level of refinement. I mean literally did they prepare detailed 3D rendered drawings or dimensioned plans or possibly make physical models for presentation to the King in order to convey their ideas in a way that he could completely understand exactly every roof line, wall finish, plant, fountain, paving pattern, color or architectural detail. Surely there was some sort of review approval process right? What about schedule, budget and permits? There had to be some limit on resources or the amount of time the King would be expected to wait for his Palace. Or was there a simple order to build me a palace similar to such and such and you better exceed my expectations. And what if he didn’t like it - then just rip it all out and start over or was it off with their heads? Even if you could get buy in from the king - how do you find the materials and craftsmen to accomplish it. I’ve had unbelievable frustration just getting a simple finish on concrete done correctly by a supposedly highly experience contractor. How they did this work back in the 9th century is truly amazing.

On our way back down the hill along the tree shaded path we discussed some of our favorite parts of the palace and pondered over some of these perplexing questions. Suddenly we were approached by a very forward young gypsy woman talking fast in some foreign tongue and at the same time forcing a piece of rosemary in my hand and uncurling my fingers to start reading my palm. As she scrolled funny little diagrams on my palm I’m sure she was explaining what a kind and generous person I was and that I would live a long and prosperous life. I still wasn’t even sure what was happening but was just shaking my head no and saying no thank you all at about the same time she stopped and held out her hand for some money. Patti just said no and started to walk off. I reached into my pocket and only found 3 dimes and gave it to her. She started saying no senor 1 euro, 1 euro. I said no sorry that’s all I have and began to back off. She grabbed the rosemary branch back from me and exhibited the universally understood middle finger and stormed off. Oh well, can’t please em all. We continued on our merry way and stopped at the first sidewalk café that we saw in the plaza at the bottom of the hill for some of the best food and definitely the best sangria that we’ve had so far in Spain.

After a little siesta back at the hotel and a frustrating guitar practice session we decided to head back out on the town to find the guitar store that we had seen while walking up toward the Alhambra. I’ve been disappointed with this new little travel guitar that I bought in Madrid. For some reason I’ve just had a lot more trouble playing it than mine and it won’t stay tuned for more than a half a day. I’m thinking that it is because of the cheap nylon Spanish style strings and have decided to see if I can have metal string put on it like my guitar back home. The shop is open this time and the owner speaks a little English. I try to explain the problem as I pull it out of the case and he just looks at me and says senor this is not an instrument - this is a toy for a child. He reaches over and picks up a similar sized but real guitar and shows me the difference in the width of the fret board and I immediately realized why I’ve had so much trouble playing it. He doesn’t have any steel strings, tunes the guitar and explains that the nylon strings will probably hold a better tune after a few more tunings.

We walked around some of the bizarre streets and alleyways of old town, got a small bite to eat, talked about our excitement and expectations for out trip the next day to the remote village of Los Molinos for our two week volunteer work and called it a night.