For some odd reason each time a song reminiscent of home comes into contact with my ears while traveling there sits an internal sensation that I was meant to be there, that it was good decision to visit that particular destination. As rows of olive trees lined in synconized fashion along the rolling soft green hills to both sides of the Bla Bla car the overall look of our surroundings gradually started taking a different form. We no longer were in the region of Murcia, this was now Andalucia. As we dissected through this part of southern Spain the colors of the trees shifted from light greens to yellows and oranges.
Within minutes of bidding farewell to Thomas, our Bla Bla driver, Lucia and I quickly connected with our friend Paco. Paco is the son of Lola, our other roommate, and visiting him was an excuse for us to visit Granada. From the moment we transitioned from car passengers to street explorers the weekend entered a time warp and it's hard to believe that this post is being written on Monday because the previous three days have passed like flickers of an expiring light bulb.
After beers and a menu del día at a corner plaza eatery named Basil we proceeded to wander the streets of Granada in search of nothing in particular yet at the same time everything we could think of. The city itself sits at the base of a very expansive set of mountains also known as the Spanish Sierra Nevadas and a great point of reference is to simply head for a hill or go down one when having difficulty locating a major street. Transitioning from Greek colony to Roman metropolis to Visigoth stronghold to Islamic powerhouse then ultimately a climactic Christian Spanish reconquest symbol, Granada is visibly a mixture of many historically rich cultures. The final reconquest of the city by the Spanish took place on the same year that Christopher Columbus "discovered" America.
A majority of the weekend was spent along the Darro River which intersects a major portion of the cities' white painted historical center. Between getting lost along the bohemian Calle Elvira in search of Hookah bars, taking in the wonders of Mirador's San Nicolas & San Cristobal, seeing tombs of Spanish royalty near Granada's Cathedral, dancing to Reggaeton at some unknown bar that served sugary Mojitos, relaxing on the lawn of Parque Federico Garcia Lorca, then a majestic tour of the infamous Alhambra, we managed to take in many flavors of the city. I would recommend Granada as an immediate place to visit for anyone traveling to Spain and feel very fortunate to have witnessed a handful of it's endless deck of experience cards.
After beers and a menu del día at a corner plaza eatery named Basil we proceeded to wander the streets of Granada in search of nothing in particular yet at the same time everything we could think of. The city itself sits at the base of a very expansive set of mountains also known as the Spanish Sierra Nevadas and a great point of reference is to simply head for a hill or go down one when having difficulty locating a major street. Transitioning from Greek colony to Roman metropolis to Visigoth stronghold to Islamic powerhouse then ultimately a climactic Christian Spanish reconquest symbol, Granada is visibly a mixture of many historically rich cultures. The final reconquest of the city by the Spanish took place on the same year that Christopher Columbus "discovered" America.
A majority of the weekend was spent along the Darro River which intersects a major portion of the cities' white painted historical center. Between getting lost along the bohemian Calle Elvira in search of Hookah bars, taking in the wonders of Mirador's San Nicolas & San Cristobal, seeing tombs of Spanish royalty near Granada's Cathedral, dancing to Reggaeton at some unknown bar that served sugary Mojitos, relaxing on the lawn of Parque Federico Garcia Lorca, then a majestic tour of the infamous Alhambra, we managed to take in many flavors of the city. I would recommend Granada as an immediate place to visit for anyone traveling to Spain and feel very fortunate to have witnessed a handful of it's endless deck of experience cards.
As I sit here within the quiet confines of Cafe De Ficciones back in Murcia I feel like I accidently left something behind in Granada. The bag I packed was pretty light and besides a couple pairs of socks, one pair of shoes, and my camera the idea of something forgotten seems a little unrealistic.
Thinking back maybe I dropped the unknown item in one of the cities' artist inspiring plazas. Then again it might have fallen out of my pocket while wandering through Alcaiceria, a winding corridor of Moroccan markets where "these" and "those" are sold in bushels. Maybe it could be frozen in wonder at the finest of textures along any given wall of Alhambra. Maybe it's sharing a moment of peace behind the protection of a round-shaped stone fountain along El Paseo de los Tristes. Then again it could have been left behind one of the soft crimson pillows of a teteria deep within the incline of an Arabic inspired neighborhood.
After thinking for a moment I realize that something was definitely left behind. It's the reason for my moving to Spain, for working as an English assistant, for continuing this prolonged life-quest to get lost then find the way all over again.
Its my curiosity.
Thinking one more time maybe it's not in Granada. I think it's in Madrid or possibly Valencia. I haven't been to either of those places yet.
The fast picking guitar riffs of "On the Road Again" by Willie Nelson just introduced themselves to the atmosphere of Cafe de Ficciones.
As I pack up my belongings and head for home there is definitely one thing I left behind in Granada.
My heart.
Until next time...
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