Perdí Mi Piedra

Something about me that you should understand: I have a very strong sense of adventure. I think it started when I was little. I was influenced by the TV shows that I watched where the characters would find secret passageways or stumble across magic doorways - stuff like that. I was always on the lookout for a clue that would lead me to some secret, magical place, so I liked to explore. I still do, and I really like being outside and seeing new things (which can be difficult because I really hate bugs and dirt). So since I arrived in Spain, I have had this urge to climb a mountain. Not a snow capped mountain, but one of those hills that's so big that it isn't quite a hill but doesn't really qualify as a mountain. You'll see what I mean.

I haven't posted in a while because I was waiting until I really had something worthwhile to write about. And now I finally do: Granada was the most amazing, beautiful, wonderful place that I have ever seen. Let's start from the very beginning.

We planned our trip to Granada a couple of weeks ago. Everything was all set. But the night before we were supposed to leave, I got an e-mail from our hostel saying that they had overbooked but would help us look for a new one. This guy named Nick who worked at the front desk helped us out and found us a place that was comparable in price. It was just somewhere to sleep anyways, so what did it matter?

We left Madrid (en autobús) at 1:30 a.m. on Saturday, figuring that we could sleep on the five hour bus ride rather than pay for a room. I was seated next to a young español, maybe 26 years old. He was jittery and smelled like cigarettes. Qué guay. He kept squirming around patting his pockets and kept checking his bag for something. Eventually, he told me that he couldn't find his cell phone and asked nicely if I wouldn't mind calling it for him. Of course I obliged, but to no avail. We couldn't find it. So now this guy was convinced that his phone was really gone, and his anxiety was preventing me from falling asleep. I was about ready to reach over and give him a neck rub if it would have helped him settle down.

Eventually, I was able to get some shut eye for a couple of hours until the bus stopped at a rest area. I got out to stretch my legs and returned to find that jitterbug was missing from his seat. What I also found was his cell phone, ringing, wedged between his chair and the window. Hooray. Is it impolite to answer someone else's cell phone? I wasn't sure, so I grabbed it and went looking for him. What an angel I am. I found him and returned his cell, then went back to the bus to sleep (only to be awoken ten minutes later when he returned, reeking of cigarette smoke). Did you know that one in four Spaniards smoke? Apparently all the cool kids are doing it. Nasty.

We arrived in Granada at 6:30 in the morning and headed straight for our hostel. Let me tell you something - whoever was in charge of city planning back when Granada was being built must have had some serious issues. I mean the city itself isn't that big, but the roads have no logical pattern and are a total pain to navigate. Not important, though. So after about twenty minutes, we arrived at our hostel (with the help of a friendly garbage man). This would have been great, except the place wasn't open: Lights off, doors chained, and not a soul in sight. I didn't even have the phone number because Nick set everything up for us. Oops.

We decided to bring our luggage with us to La Alhambra, and arrived just in time to make our 8:30 entrance. For those of you who don't know, La Alhambra is a really famous monastery (I think) in Spain. I've been learning about it for the past few semesters, but somehow the details about it aren't coming to mind at the moment. In any case, it's an enormous building with beautiful Arabic architecture. Being the main attraction in Granada, we were really excited to see it.

Courtyard

Muy Preciosa, ¿No?

Hay muchas palmeras en España.

Aladdin?

I think I would have enjoyed my visit a lot more if it hadn't been so cold (I use the word loosely, it was probably in the 40s). It's really difficult to deal with the weather here because everywhere we go would be "so much better" if it were summer. But since we went so early (people in Spain don't typically wake up until 10 or so), it wasn't very crowded so I was able to get most of my pictures without mobs of people in the foreground.

I'm astounded that people actually built these places hundreds of years ago. The sheer size of it all, along with the gorgeous architectural detailing, is enough to make your jaw drop. It just boggles my mind that people were able to construct such masterpieces with little more than ropes and pulleys. That being said, the buildings seem to be set up so that you can look outside at everything around them. Of course the Alhambra had its courtyards and gardens, but being on the inside really lent itself to looking outward at the amazing view.

Right next to El Alhambra lies the Generalife (which I have also learned about extensively, but why bore you with the facts?).

View From El Alhambra

Doesn't this look like a painting rather than a window?

Generalife

Afterwards we went back to our hostel to take a siesta. The place was really nice: we were set up in a 6-bed apartment, complete with a kitchenette and a private bathroom. We had intended to go to a flamenco show that evening but instead opted to wander the streets of Granada to look for something more low-key. We met a guy named David, who introduced us to his friends and showed us around. He was really nice and eager to talk with us, which is kind of a rarity. The thing is that Spaniards (like most other Europeans) don't particularly like Americans, especially Americans who don't speak Spanish fluently. When we do meet someone who has the patience to converse with us, it's like Christmas morning (especially if that someone happens to be tall, dark, and handsome).

Stereotype much?

View From Our Hostel

Sunday was much warmer, and we decided to wander aimlessly (más o menos) around the city rather than try to get to every monument or tourist attraction in Granada. I feel a little guilty because there were lots of things that we probably should have seen that we didn't. But wandering around was so much fun, so I don't feel that bad. David had told us that if we really wanted to appreciate our stay, we had to go through a neighborhood called El Albayzín. Its built on the side of the mountain that we wanted to climb, and it was so precious - exactly what you would expect a small town in Spain to look like. There were crowded little houses on winding streets, a little difficult to navigate but absolutely gorgeous. So as we're walking we randomly happened upon the hostel where we were supposed be. It was adorable and had the most amazing view. I'm so bummed we didn't get to stay there, but we ended up going inside and meeting Nick and this man named Jamie from Australia, who were super friendly and nice (they even invited us to come back later in the Spring, which I'm definitely doing to do). I was asking Jamie about why he came to Spain (he has lived here now for ten years) and his thoughtful response was, "Well. I figured I might like Spain. So I came here to live, and I liked it." Spoken like a true español.

♥

Abandonado 

Walking through El Albayzín brought us pretty far up the mountain, but we eventually found ourselves walking on dirt paths leading to the top. It was so perfect. As we were walking, we noticed that there were bits of ceramic mixed in with the rocks along the paths, so some of us started picking up the pretty ones. That's when I found my best souvenier yet- a broken piece of stone with "ESPAÑA 89" engraved into it. You can't buy stuff like that in stores. It was seriously so cool...

(pause for dramatic effect)

...but I lost it. Yeah. Somewhere along the hike I managed to drop it, and no matter how hard I looked I couldn't find it again. I concluded that it must have been an unlucky rock, or had a curse, or some other explanation as to why I'm better off without it. ¿Estáis de acuerdo?

At this point, I was totally satisfied with how the day had been going (aside from the rock thing), but it actually got better because we found some gypsies. Yes - living, breathing gypsy hippies residing in the caves on the mountain. I couldn't believe it! We talked to a couple of them and they seemed happy as clams to be away from civilization. Honestly, it didn't seem like a bad set up. They wake up in the morning, watch the sun rise, relax and play music until the sun goes down. Who needs running water when you're living on a mountain in Spain?

Photo Credit: Lauren Acree

Gypsy House

Gypsy Meditating

Far Away

Up Close

On Top of the World

Two more things I feel I need to mention:
1. Music: While in Granada, we heard Shania Twain's "Man I Feel Like a Woman" played not once but twice. It really took me back to third grade. Happy times.
2. Graffiti: I said in a previous post that the graffiti here doesn't bother me because it seems like it's supposed to be there. Well in Granada, I wouldn't even call it graffiti - it's more like street art. I think I like it so much because it really has meaning, and the anonymity makes it even more intriguing. Mona who? This is real art, if you ask me.

Houses without people. People without homes.  Streets that talk.

Friends for Life

Los españoles me hablan. Estoy segura que que un día, viviré en Granada.