"It's a momentous occasion...did you pack your water?"
From the Granada airport, we got on an aerobus to our hostel. Oh man, before I continue I must mention something I just remembered because I saw a baby on our bus to Madrid (from which I am writing this entry). On the Barcelona subway, there was a lady sitting with her bosom exposed and her baby feeding from it. A free-for-all...but not really, because the baby was the only one with the access. Little did we know that our metro ticket included a free show, not optional. It was disturbing. Anyway, on the bus ride to our Granada hostel, we saw mountains in the sunset. I already really liked Granada. We got off the bus at Gran Via and started walking to Albayzin, where our hostel was. The cobblestone road (I live for cobblestone) was so narrow that either people could walk on it or cars/bikes/minibuses could go by, but not both. Well it was possible for both but there was a chance of colliding with a sideview mirror or having your foot rolled over by wheels. Regardless, it was a really pretty scene because there weren't a lot of vehicles. On one of the side walkways, there was a guy with a guitar bellowing out the lyrics to 'Don't look back in anger' by Oasis. It was just awesome.
At the hostel, we met up with Alina and Natasha, who had already been in Granada for a day. The four of us headed to a small flamenco bar, Le chien andalou, where we ate the smallest but, in my opinion, most enjoyable tapas I had eaten in Spain, and saw a show. I thought it was going to be a show with those señoritas wearing red feathery outfits, but there were only male performers. First, there was just a man with a guitar and an old man in a suit (so adorable yet badass). The guitarist started playing and about a minute into the song, the old man started singing/yelling. We had no clue how that voice was coming from that little man. Since he was singing in Spanish, we didn't understand the context of the song, but it sounded powerful nonetheless. We definitely thought there were points during which he was yelling at us though. For the next few songs, the two on stage were joined by three more men. All they were doing were clapping and stomping their feet along with the guitar and it sounded amazing. They had such good rhythm and coordination. One of the clapping men also sang and he had a strong voice as well. During the last song, one of the men, dressed in red as presumed, did a dance. Man, could he move. And his expression and movement was so passionate. I'm so glad we saw them perform because it was an authentic and small show and we got a good feel of some beautiful Spanish culture in that small bar. P.s. One of the clapping men fell in love with Alina.
Tuesday, August 9th 2011
GRAcias deNADA
Fact: Granada means pomegranate. Fact (I think): Apparently, the reason behind the people of Spain speaking Spanish with a lisp is that back in the day there was a king of Spain with a lisp. The people respected him so much that they altered their way of speaking, and it got passed down through the generations, like a dialect does.
The next morning we had to wake up early for our Alhambra tour. The first breath of air I took when we exited the hostel to walk to the bus was lovely! The streets smelt like shisha, no joke. The tour was great and, as expected, the palaces are incredible. It was pretty interesting to see the designs and symbols comprised of both Muslim and Christian influence and the differences in architecture. From the outside, the palaces were pretty simple, but on the inside, everything was so grand and majestic. Lots of arches and fountains. The gardens were very impressive, to say the least. As the tour guide gave an explanation for the different rooms of the palaces, it was cool to imagine the lifestyle of the sultans that lived there many centuries ago. I just kept picturing the sultan from Aladdin and the parrot too. Iago.
We were pretty tired after the tour, so we just wandered around looking for souvenirs and ate lunch. While we were going through different shops, I realized something about Granada. Whenever I was talking to a shopkeeper or a waiter and I mentioned I was from Canada, instead of them asking if I speak English, they would ask me if I speak French. And it seemed that a lot of people in Granada had French as a second language as opposed to English. This must have to do with the Moroccan influence in the region. Either way, it was nice to be able to practice my French in Spain.
"If this is a bath, do I need to take a shower after?"
That evening, we had plans to visit a Hammam, traditional Arab baths. Oh my gosh, it was heavenly. The dimly lit bath was made up of a few rooms connected by arches. There was tile work along the orange/peach-colored walls. There was Arabic music playing in the background. It was such a relaxing atmosphere. There was a cold room with a cold water pool, a hot room with a hot water pool, another room with warm water, and small relaxation areas with benches and cinnamon candles. Basically, all one does is go from one room to another as you please, and hang out in the pools. They are technically baths and not pools so you don't really do laps or anything...although at one point, Sana and I did exactly that, just because one of the pools was empty and we had it to ourselves. There was also an area where you could Marrakech tea. It was amazing. Perfect after a long day of walking in the heat.
I learned two sentences in Spanish that day. The first was "Una tirita por favor", which means "A bandaid, please". I will explain the second one now. So, after turning down a few of Sana's dares (we are so juvenile), I finally agreed to one at the Hammam. There was a guy walking around calling people from the pools to go for their massages, and I had to go to him and say "venga al baño caliente con mi". Awkward.
After the Hammam, we went on a tapas tour with the hostel, and got a bit of a feel of the Granada nightlife. While we were out, we met some very cool people. Special mentions go to the American (Hilary) and the Italian with the same name (Ilaria).
Wednesday, August 10th 2011 (Happy birthday mom!)
As I mentioned earlier, I'm writing this on a bus to Madrid. Sadly, after running and busing around town to the train station with our stupid fatass backpacks, the train didn't work out. Instead of waiting for the evening train, we decided to take a bus to save a few hours of our time. It has been kind of a frustrating day, but finding a McDonald's near the bus station made it all better. I'm lovin' it.
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