Postcard from the Road: Granada
Dear You:
It is warm here in the afternoon, when the sun inches above the Moorish city wall and down into our tiled courtyard, where a solitary lemon tree shades the neighbor's cats and a table and chairs. A 1.5L bottle of sangria costs 79 cents. In the arch of the Puerta Nueva a lone busker with guitar bashes artlessly through freedom-rock classics (don't like CCR? That's just, like, your opinion, man) but two blocks away two flamenco players work intricately on the Mirador San Nicolas, where a simple but crowded cafe overlooks the sprawl and towers of the Alhambra, with the snowcapped Sierra Nevada behind. The wide plaza--a stone dome over a font indicating that, like many other places here, the church was built onto a former mosque--is full of hippies selling homemade jewelry and assorted other hippie crap, plus old men leaning on canes and tourists snapping photos.
If I had remembered to bring a USB cable for my camera I could show you. But I didn't.
Today we leave Granada for the coast, a wide spot in the beach road called Puerto Cabopino. Did I mention that it is Christmas Day? Feliz Navidad, y'all, wish you were here...
XOXOXO (3 bisous not 2)
It is warm here in the afternoon, when the sun inches above the Moorish city wall and down into our tiled courtyard, where a solitary lemon tree shades the neighbor's cats and a table and chairs. A 1.5L bottle of sangria costs 79 cents. In the arch of the Puerta Nueva a lone busker with guitar bashes artlessly through freedom-rock classics (don't like CCR? That's just, like, your opinion, man) but two blocks away two flamenco players work intricately on the Mirador San Nicolas, where a simple but crowded cafe overlooks the sprawl and towers of the Alhambra, with the snowcapped Sierra Nevada behind. The wide plaza--a stone dome over a font indicating that, like many other places here, the church was built onto a former mosque--is full of hippies selling homemade jewelry and assorted other hippie crap, plus old men leaning on canes and tourists snapping photos.
If I had remembered to bring a USB cable for my camera I could show you. But I didn't.
Today we leave Granada for the coast, a wide spot in the beach road called Puerto Cabopino. Did I mention that it is Christmas Day? Feliz Navidad, y'all, wish you were here...
XOXOXO (3 bisous not 2)
posted by Frogmarch @ 9:20 AM
2 Comments:
At 5:05 PM,
Anonymous said…
Feliz Navidad, Happy Birthday, and Bonne Annee, my brother!
At 6:33 PM,
Anonymous said…
"The old man had come to the plaza not to be photographed by the turistas as so many others did, but to die here, sitting on a bench in this place where he had witnessed the rising and setting of the hot Spanish sun for nearly ninety years.
As he sat there on the rough wooden bench waiting for his demise, he saw a young family. Two children and their parents experiencing the Alhambra in the unquestioning manner of youth but also somehow taking in the depths of hidden Moorish thought and emotion that lay intertwined with the festive atmosphere of the Christmas season. BUt, his feet hurt. He was tired. Perhaps he'd come back and die tomorrow."
Merry Christmas. E. Hemingway
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