Hola familia y amigos!
Our adventure herein covers another of Spain’s 17 regions, Andalucia, the southernmost. We arrived in Granada (2,800 feet elevation) at the bus station, providing a taxi driver with the address of Casa del Aljarife, a 400 year old structure located deep in the hilly Albaycin district of Granada, a historic Moorish community. The poor cab driver became lost in the myriad of narrow, winding and dead end cobblestoned streets, finally calling our hotel, leaving us standing on a corner to await our host, Damian. Our “welcome to Albaycin” came while walking uphill, backpack slung over my right shoulder, listening to Damian’s commentary in English while he carried our suitcases. I felt my backpack become heavier and turned around to find two nefarious-looking women fading quickly backwards. After finding zippers half-opened, I checked everything while Damian held the women spellbound, not knowing that he spoke fluent Spanish. The gypsies (Gitanos, or as Damian called them, Romani) were shrieking at us, shaking their heads, putting on quite the show of being victimized. The thief on a Mexico City subway in 2010 was much better at this, niftily lifting our passports! We came out better this time.
Over the next several days, we spent many hours losing ourselves among these challenging streets which barely accommodate pedestrians and one-way-at-a-time automotive traffic, stepping up on the foot-wide curbing and flattening our backs to the stoned buildings to allow the latter’s passage! On our way down to Plaza Nueva and Via Colon, we passed small (8 foot wide) shops inviting you in to purchase brightly colored and shiny items appearing to be from Morocco or India, every other shop carrying the same inventory, as well as hookah lounges, small eateries, and bins with open bags of herbs, dried fruits and teas, beckoning with their respective aromas. We were now near all the jumping off spots for many sites, e.g., Santa Iglesia Catedral Metropolitana de la Encarnacion de Granada. We chose instead to enter the chapel attached to the cathedral, Capilla Real, which holds the remains of 5 Catholic Monarchs, including Joanna of Castile (aka “the Mad”) and her husband, Phillip I of Castile (aka “the Handsome”). We walked down several stairs to view the five sarcophaguses, sped through several rooms of 15th century religious paintings before they closed at 1:30 for siesta. All I came away with was the negative fallouts from religious-based pursuits. Our first dinner meal was at Antigua Bodega Castaneda, ordering wine, receiving free tapas of lomo (pork loin), which we watched being shaved from the leg We retired to our room to view La Alhambra, a UNESCO site, which was directly across from us and lit up at night, a contrast to its daytime presentation.
After a lovely breakfast at our lodging the first morning, we walked down to the square and got on the C2 bus (1.2 Euros pp.) to go up the hill to explore the Abadia del Sacromonte, a 17th century religious structure from where we could view La Alhambra and greater Granada. Then, looking for the Sacromonte “caves” where flamenco is performed, we walked a half mile up a steep paved road, taking pictures of what looked like the “caves”, expecting to come upon massive caves later, giving up after 30 minutes, walking back down the road we were transported on. We came upon a sign, Cueva El Paseillo, 100 meters off our winding road. When we came upon the small neighborhood, and saw the main accommodation with a sign that said “Association Cultural Flamenco”, we realized “caves”, in fact, referred to white-washed structures built deep into the sides of hills and we were to see many more on the continuation of our walk back into town. So much for the advantage of not being part of a tour group!!!
Our first Flamenco experience would be a short walk to Jardines de Zoraya for our 7 p.m. dinner preceding an 8 o’clock show, performed on a 100 square foot wooden stage, raised a foot off the restaurant floor and 10 feet from our table. Five performers: 3 males (singer, guitarist, percussionist) and 2 female dancers, whose sensuous performances included artistic hand and hip movements, raised skirts showing their athletic legs, and rotation of the head turning their entire body. The singer’s high pitched and nasal delivery was hypnotic, like a call to prayer in a Mosque. Sated after a masterful meal and entertainment, we walked back in light rain, thunder and lightning in the distance, muddying the cobblestones, and soiling our outer clothing, a result of a once-every-five-years “blood rain”, where winds from the Sahara bring sand northwards, and with rain, create this dirty end result.
This continued until the next day, but did not “dampen” our visit to the La Alhambra (Arabic word for ‘red’). It was extraordinary, having been constructed between 1238 and 1358 (upon an abandoned fortress built in 889), doubling as a palace for the Moorish Monarchs. It covers 1.5 million square feet, sporting the Palacios Nazaries and the Palacio de Generalife (summer palace across from Nazaries). Tiles appointed almost every part of the labyrinth of rooms and passageways, along with striking pillars and ceilings. The scope of the architecture and artistry left us breathless. Material boards were provided where we could touch the key elements making up this beautiful structure: ceramic, stone, wood and plaster, as a deterrent to touching exhibit pieces. Moving into the courtyards, we were presented with marble squares sequestered among neatly trimmed hedges and iron benches upon which the weary could rest, amphitheaters, patios, fountains, pools with neatly trimmed myrtle hedges, groomed grounds with sculptured offerings and gardeners at work, without whose efforts the beauty would be diminished. Lastly, traditionally, there has to be a Seahawk presence with Maggie presenting her towel.
The next morning we said our good-byes to Damian and his wife, Rothio, presenting him with the CD we had purchased at the Flamenco show, highlighting the amazing singer we had seen. Upon arrival by bus in Seville, we had a taxi experience much like Granada, where our driver had a hard time finding the El Rey Moro Boutique Hotel (Maggie always finds obscure, but cozy and loving small places in the old town sections of cities we visit). He too left us standing on the sidewalk (no Gitanos this time) with no other comment than to point down a narrow street he could not pass through, with the correct street name (Lope de Rueda), so we were pretty sure it was not a ‘dump and run’ situation. I left Maggie with the suit cases and strode up the narrow street, finding #14 which was on our email confirmation, but it was a dark, dank small alcove, with a doorbell that did not seem to work, nor did anyone appear. Finally a local signaled to me that I should go down and around the corner to the right. Sure enough, there it was, looking real, modern and clean! We paid this forward a day later when we came upon a traveler at the same spot, looking forlorn and told her where the actual entrance was.
We explored the general area around the Catedral de Sevilla (largest Gothic Cathedral and 3rd largest church in the world), using our free ‘drinks’ card from the hotel at Las Escobas, a taberna established in 1386, then finding our way to the bus station, crossing through the Jardines Murillo, with oranges falling near our heads and coming across a massive Strangler Fig (Ficus) tree where Maggie nestled into the root system. After purchasing tickets for our future bus ride from Jerez de la Frontera to Ronda, which we had been unable to do using the internet, we celebrated our success walking back to where we had seen a 4 story, high end rooftop bar (EME) and spent an hour marveling at the cathedral which had now been lit up for our nighttime viewing pleasure.
The deambulando (I love this word for wandering) began anew the next day, after consuming a breakfast of a potato/egg frittata and a mixture of artichoke hearts/asparagus/jamon and coffee con leche. We once again experienced the vagaries of another street system, which turned out to be even more confusing than Granada’s, calles that would shrink to 3’ wide, opening into squares with hard-to-find street signs, or, dead-ending. Our map was really not helpful, especially with the teeny tiny print and then we discovered that it was oriented with the top being East (not North), which we didn’t realize for 2 days. That did not help at all, but we probably saw more of the Jewish Quarter than we might have otherwise! We had certain targets to find (think scavenger hunt), which we, inefficiently, did…the Museo del Baile Flamenco; the Metropol Parasol in the Encarnacion Plaza, a canopy-like architectural art structure 26 meters tall, 150 meters long and 70 meters wide, standing in contrast to the centuries old neighborhood it resides in; the Guadalquivir river (2nd longest river in Spain and most navigable, with several modern bridges spanning it which separates the upscale part of Seville from the bohemian neighborhood of Triana). Walking along the river, we were accompanied by tour boats, scullers in training, colorful graffiti on the sea wall next to the promenade, geese floating and honking and soon espying the Plaza de los Toros, which holds 12,000 for bullfights (April-September) and the statue honoring a great toreador, Churro Romero, whose lower torso, appeared to manifest a certain enhanced bulge, finding our way (errantly) back to El Rey Moro, dining on pizza in the neighborhood and starting a nightly routine of procuring ice cream from the local heladeria.
We stooped to taking advantage of a free guided tour from our hotel, which turned out to be great, for several reasons: not getting lost and hearing the history of the diverse cultures that built Seville along with witnessing key aspects of that history. We were part of a group of 200, downsized to 40 who wanted English, versus Spanish and French. Raul was our fearless leader, recounting the Roman architectural influence, the barbaric Visigoths who added no value, then Arabs building Islamic mosques, followed by the Catholics who drove out the Jews, the shopkeepers and money lenders. He pointed out a structure that represented the cultures building on top of each other, reflecting a multicultural representation of the succession of victors, Arabic/Gothic/Catholic, the green and white dome representing the colors of the Andalucian flag. Along with these references to cultural & religious influences, we were made aware of the “Triangle” of Royalty, Religion & Commerce represented by our gathering between the Real Alcazar, the Catedral de Sevilla & the Archivo General de Indias building.
The 1929 Ibero-American Exposition accounted for a grand architectural build up for the 15 years prior, accounting for 70% of the buildings surrounding us when we were gathered in Plaza de San Francisco. The crown jewel of all this is the amazing Plaza de Espana and its exquisite Spanish Pavilion, whose architect, Anibal Gonzales, used Art Deco and Neo-Mudejar styling, highlighted by its beautiful tiling (vivid blues, greens, yellows and browns) on lampposts, railings and the 50 alcoves representing all 50 Spanish Provinces ordered alphabetically on the wall of the Pavilion’s semi-circle. Then there’s the 20’ wide moat of water surrounding a plaza which can be accessed by four bridges, where row boats are available, and horse-drawn carriages transport their passengers across the plaza and out into the streets.
Leaving Seville without gaining entry to the Real Alcazar, also a UNESCO site as is La Alhambra, was not an option. Maggie gained her entry as a jubilado (retiree) for only 2 Euros, whereas, without my ID, I was charged 9.5 Euros. I guess they were not convinced I was older than she. The key attractions for us at Alcazar were the exhibits of fans (abanicos); 18th century tiles; in the Palacio del Rey Don Pedro, a room whose walls were covered with sequential paintings on tiles, one comprised of roughly 70 (5”x5”) tiles, all done in the year 1577; and in the Palacio Gotico, the piece de resistance (for me) was a room containing 30’ wide x 20’ tall canvas tapestry paintings, all recreated from those lost in the 1755 Lisbon earthquake/tsunami/fire devastation. The jardines were quite different from Alhambra’s: Less manicured and structured; a series of mazes; a fountain topped by Neptune; and a the unique 17th century Fuente de Fama (1 of only 4 left in the world) hydraulic organ, which hourly is activated by water pressure, sounding like a pipe organ.
We top off this dispatch with climbing the 34 17% graded and 3.5’ wide ramps of the Giralda Tower (embedded in the Catedral de Sevilla), arriving 47 meters (17 stories) later with alcoves along the way for viewing out over Seville. Once on top, myriad views are available, with some very pushy people squeezing in to get their photos ahead of everyone else. In the cathedral itself, we did stand in awe of the massive pipe organ. Leaving the grounds, we witnessed workers and their ladders set up against a small orchard of Pedro I orange trees in the square before exiting the premises. They were shaking loose these potential hazards we had come across earlier in Jardines Murillo, and packing them up, hauling them away. We closed the afternoon with the sun shining on us, 70 degrees, rowing romantically around the moat at the Spanish Pavilion and saying our good byes to Sevilla.
Cheers, until our next dispatch, Stan & Maggie