Down and dirty in Espanol


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Europe » Spain
November 17th 2000
Published: June 5th 2008
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Everything is a little dirtier and more lived in, washing on the balconies overhanging the streets, people seem more alive and a little crazier, food I love to eat and really good smells. Spain is quite a reality change after weeks in Scandinavia and the Alps. Southern Europe suits my soul, expressive hand waving and warmer weather. It feels like a great mixture of Southern Italy and Greece. Barcelona got me moving today, I ran around like a woman possesed, the highlight for me being the Gaudi architecture. He was the main attraction for me to visit this city, his style inspired Art Noveau building of the early 1900s so I headed straight for Palau Guell, a palace he designed that was a great example of his crazy mosaic chimneys, then on to the unfinished La Sagrada Familia. Impressive.

The best of his work for me was his first attempt at landscape design with architecture at Parc Guell. It is a quirky and enchanting space that is entered through two houses either side of a big iron gate in a Hansel and Gretelesque style. His work is very fun, colourful and organic, the curves and arches he achieved where really beautiful and inspiring. Every shift of the camera lens creating a whole new perspective.

It' now early evening, the place has started to swarm with people, sweet little alleys bustling with the accompaniment of Spanish guitar music. Planning some good art for arts sake by the bucket load, maybe some Dali, Miro and Picasso. It's great to have such attractions again involving creativity that are so much cheaper than Northern Europe. Let alone the food choice being richer in comparison.

Off to Alhambra....

No description of Alhambra or Granada could have prepared me for what I saw today. Granada is positioned at the base of Spains highest mountain range, the Sierra Nevada amongst the Alpujarras Valley. The old capital of Moorish Spain during the 13th to 15th centuries, it was blessed with the architectural gift of La Alhambra. The name comes from the arabic word Al Hamra meaning the red one, as the walls are made from the surrounding red soil. Imagine a valley of old narrow streets with Moorish houses, open plazas, a river beneath a mountain and higher than that the fortress on view above the old town. Similar topographically to the effect of the Acropolis but surrounding all of that is the snow covered mountain range.

The Alhambra I will attempt to describe. It took me over 5 hours to absorb it all with a brilliant audio guide describing the fortress, the royal palace and the Sultans Summer Palace. You climb the hill above the village through perfectly maintained gardens along cobbled streets to the entrance. The walls tower above you and as you get closer and enter te heavy gates a whole new world opens up with gorgeous gardens of fountains, cyprus trees, apricot orchards, rambling wall roses on ancient walls and hedges groomed into mazes and walkways and secluded spaces. It was the most beautiful, serene and magical garden I have ever see, all with the background of the quaint old village below.

Within the walls of these huge grounds are so many buildings, including later added Christian churches. From the walls of the fortress - red earthy rough brick with worn stairs you can view the entire village and mountain range from a new perspective.

The Casa Real is the highlight though, perfect marble architecture carved in the style of intricate Moorish screens and adorned with beautiful shapes in every room. Delicate floor tiles, ceilings in the shape of domed starry nights and large open porticoes with baths to wash amongst the immaculate gardens. It was in perfect condition, every room affording a different view of the mountains. Numerous mountains and pools for moonlit bathing and aquatic decoration. WOW!.

I honestly felt transported in time imagining the lives of these people. Days like these you realise how travelling alone is sometimes torture. To see all this beauty and not share it directly is heartbreaking.

And then there is Flamenco.....

I woke to the sweet sound of flamenco guitar this morning, a guitar teacher below my window taming his instrument and the hustle of the alley. I decided to soak up Granada for another day. There are gypsy caves just out of town where they have nightly flamenco performances. A sweet old woman gave me a castanet demonstration in a shop alongside all the temptations of Morrocan pottery. There is an area that feels like it could be part of Maroc, the people, the artwork, the food and smells. It was great to enjoy a tea shop, felafel with a Spanish twist of salsa and smell sweet incense again.

Last night I had the pleasure to watch an older couple dancing like only the Spanish can around the bar, holding each other for grim life and living it to the fullest. The soul of these people tangible and bigger than life.

After an afternoon siesta I headed for the hills of Granada's gypsy caves to see the touristy serve of Flamenco. I was relieved to see a small crowd, a small bar, but a big spirited performance. Seeing the woman dance with as much anger and energy as humanly possible was a real pleasure. The emotional guitar music, haunting vocals and enthusiastic clapping was performed by a group of three male musicians and four female dancers. It really is the sexiest dance in the world, so romantic and spirited with a healthy serve of bravado. I did some clapping, drank some Sangria and later went for a good dose of sedating Arabic music at a lamp lit Moorish cafe. One more felafel, why the hell not?

Adios Espanol......

After travelling through Andalucia and on to Madrid I pitt-stopped in Avila. The landscape of central Spain is pure bull territory. Dry, windswept sandy grasses with thirsty treeless hills. Sometimes a refreshing change of grey green olive trees with rather loud and proud bulls gazing on the plains. Overhead pregnant clouds threatening to ease the dryness and solitary low stone houses reminding you of life. Long barren areas between towns and finally a stop at one of the worlds great walled cities on the way to San Sebastian where I write from now. On the North Coast of Spain and very close to France it really feels like a summer destination only. I arrived late, looked at my map and it didn't look too far to the hostel. After 30 minutes of getting considerable lost those big grey clouds decided to bless me with all they had to offer. The massive Jesus statue perched on the hill in a glow in the dark type scenario almost waved me goodbye from the sky.

There is so much diversity in this country as I head now to Paris. I know I'll be back. The land of my favourite music and people that seem to embrace every day with gusto.




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