Granada, The City of Golden Colors
I saw two great sunsets here
On December 20, we left Córdoba for Granada. The bus ride was long, and I could not really fall asleep. I felt tired by the time we checked in to the hotel. After a quick snack, I took a nap until 3 p.m., while my friend was out walking around. Then I woke up, had lunch (see, fully adjusted to the Spanish eating schedule). We met up at 4:30 p.m. and set out for the Alhambra. As a result, the visit was a bit rushed. At night we saw a flamenco show, which I thought was authentic.
My friend left the next morning. I slept in, had a slow, big brunch at Taberna El Aviso, then explored the Muslim quarter, Albayzín. At dusk, I drank two kinds of local tea and ate a chocolate crepe with fresh cream, while watching the sunset.
Landmark, Alhambra, Whose Paradise Is It?
The Alhambra, from Arabic, means “The Red One”. It’s a palace and fortress built by the last prominent Moorish dynasty in Spain. Interestingly, the name is also a city in California, USA, where I usually got my Chinese food while a student there. (I just realized this fact today, no wonder it sounded familiar.)
Well, I’ve digressed. Now let’s get back on track. Alhambra, the red one, is made up of three parts: the Nasrid Palace (Moorish), Palace of Charles V (Christian), and the Generalife (garden). I will spare the details of its expansions over centuries and the change of its rulers. One should know that the Alhambra is largely intact even after fallen to Christian rule, and the subsequent expansions followed the original building principles, more specifically, a paradise on earth.
I spent most of my time in the Nasrid Palace. It was winter, and it was late. When I arrived in one of the reception halls, no one was around. I sat down at a leather chairs at one corner, and marveled at the woodwork on the ceiling.
I suddenly realized, despite the intricate decorations and carvings on walls and ceilings, how empty this hall was. And by some sort of unknown extension, how isolated I was, at that place, at that moment.
I thought of the Nasrid dynasty, who built this place. The royal family and its guests, who used to occupy this space, and the subsequent Spanish rulers. What were they like? How did they live here? Were there pieces of furniture? How about the servants? Where they would stood?
Now they are all gone. Dynasty after dynasty, ruler after ruler. The hall remains, wide open to visitors, like me. How ephemeral life is.
This realization stuck with me during the rest of my visit, and made the experience a little stranger.
Many of the domes in the Nasrid palace had complex carved stuccos, resembling stars in the night sky. It’s a funny thing how human think: they build grand palaces to house themselves, to separate themselves from nature; and they re-create the stars in the houses they build, to re-connect with nature. Why? Maybe to make a statement: Look, these stars are mine. Oh, how obsessed we are with owning and altering everything.
At the end of the visit, I crossed a bridge, which lended me the view of the village below. Did the residents of the palace see a similar scene 700 years ago? I liked how the setting sun gilded everthing golden-orange. I knew it would soon be dark, and all the colors would be lost. It made me sad. That’s why I liked it.
Encounter, Albayzín, Great Place to Get Lost
The next afternoon was in many ways similar to the day before: it was sunset, and I was alone. In the alleyways of Albayzín, with every turn comes pleasant surprises. I saw enclosed courtyard with beautiful gardens, a church bell tower lit by a beam of sunlight, plants growing on white walls, creative and original street arts, people smoking, singing and playing music, and a magnificent sunset.
Then I descended a series of intertwining narrow streets, and was back in the city center. Albayzín was in fact very close to where I was staying, if I hadn’t trusted Google Maps.
Food, Pulpo Asado, Taberna El Aviso
Pulpo, octopus in Spanish. I love the pronunciation. It’s a popular dish in both Portugal and Spain, most likely marinated or grilled. Both are good. I had grilled octopus in Taberna El Aviso at Granada. The outside was crunchy and the inside was tender, just perfect.
Sketch, Flamenco, I Failed Miserably
Before my friend left, we decided to see a flamenco show. We went to a venue listed on Lonely Planet, Casa Arte de Flamenco. It was on the second floor of a building, no food or drink offered, just the performance.
I was surprised by how small the stage was. There were a singer, a guitarist, a female dancer, a male dancer, and four acts to the show. The small stage complimented the vibrancy of the performance. There were many times I thought the dancer would bump into the singer. Of course it did not happen. And throughout the show the thumping noise of heels hitting on the wooden stage make it even more dramatic. Along with the intense facial expressions of the performers, the night was very immersive and memorable.
I cannot say that I understood flamenco. But I liked it. I tried to capture it with a sketch, but I think I failed.
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