Few people mention the wonderful views of Granada which you get from the hilltop fortress of Alhambra. The city of Granada is surrounded by mountains, which is the reason for the fanciful name. Someone thought it looks like the crown on top of a pomegranate, called granada in Spanish. The picturesque town nestles in a large and fertile valley between them.
The medieval part of the town is called the Albaycin. We climbed through the twisty maze of little streets in this area. Behind high walls you can see gardens. We found that this kind of single house surrounded by a walled garden is called a carmen. It was hard to get a good view of these from the narrow streets. Closer to the river the houses ran into each other.
This ancient Moorish quarter is visible better from the Alhambra. The river Darro separates the Albaycin from the Alhambra. Since there was a medieval city, a Medina, within the fortress, I wonder whether there was an easily understandable difference between those who lived in the Medina and those in the Albaycin. In any case, the white walls, red-tiled patios and the fired clay tiles on the roofs of the houses in the Albaycin look immensely picturesque when viewed from the Alhambra.
Federico Garcia Lorca is one of the most famous poets of Spain. The title of this post is the opening line of one of his most famous poems. The poem was written in 1928, eight years before he was murdered by the right-wing rebel forces of General Franco.
A visit to Garcia Lorca’s house in Valderrubio, a little outside of Granada, is worth doing, if you are interested in this charismatic poet. The featured photo is of the living room in this museum house. Romance Sonambulo, the collection of poems from which the title is taken was written while he lived in this house. It is recorded that he often wrote at this table. So it is possible that some of the lines of this remarkable poem were written here.
The house originally belonged to his father, who moved here from the neighbouring village of Fuentes Vacqueras when Federico was six. It is an old style house, with thick walls that keep the inside cool even during a hot summer like this year’s. It is still painted a traditional white, with green doors and windows.
Today it is a quiet and peaceful place. I wonder whether it was as peaceful in those days when the radio was putting out news of a country in turmoil.
In Spain we tried to stray off the beaten path whenever we could. This meant that we would often get lost and tired. The hot sun would force us into a small and forgotten bar now and then. These places are either wonderful or terribly dispiriting. The featured photo shows two barflies nursing their drinks in the middle of a hot afternoon. It would seem we had wandered into a bar of lost souls.
Not exactly. Outside the bar were a couple of retirees engrossed in books of puzzles. On the metro we had seen a couple of other people equally deeply into puzzles, and wondered what they could be. They did not look like Sudoku or crosswords. At the cafe we discovered what they could be. The sachets of sugar we got with our coffee had these two puzzles on them. Presumably the old people we saw were trying to solve bigger versions of these puzzles.
I shoulder-surfed one of them as we left. He was solving an intricate word puzzle which was not a crossword. Maybe we could try to buy one of these books and try our hands at them.
The 17th century Spanish painter, Murillo, caught the texture of his country’s bread perfectly. While looking at a large canvas, I saw this detail in one corner and took the featured photo. It seems that Spanish bread has not changed in three or four centuries.
If one is used to baguettes from France or the crusty broetchen of Germany, then this seems very different. But the main difference seems to be that the crust is very soft. It is possible that this bread is baked in an oven whose temperature is much smaller. The bread is a little more doughy, which could also be due to the same low temperature baking. As a result, this bread is perfect for soaking up olive oil.
This lovely plate of fresh food was part of our dinner. Olive oil is drizzled over the toast. Then it is covered with avocado and topped with salmon in one case, and a base layer of tomatoes topped with Iberian black ham in the other. Some more olive oil is poured over everything. The taste of the food preserves the freshness of the ingredients. That is what I think of as Mediterranean food, and Spain has it in spades.
As for the olives, Spain has extended the variety of olives beyond what I’ve eaten before. The ones in the plate here are spicy (you can see a bit of bay leaf in the photo).
While we shared this plate The Family said, "They deal so effectively with the hot weather in their food. Why can’t we do the same?" I held my tongue. After all she insists on scalding hot tea irrespective of the weather. She thought for a while and said "Our tomatoes are not so tasty." That was something I could agree with.
Spain is a large country, as countries in Europe go. Several hundred kilometers between cities is not unusual. We decided to take trains during our trip. There are the high-speed trains (AVE) which travel at about 300 Kms/hour and the slower regional trains which do one-third the speed. You need reservations to enter an AVE. Since we took trains, we saw a lot of the Spanish countryside.
Today, as we travelled on a regional train from Seville to Granada, we looked out at the usual flat landscape. In this season the temperature outside at 5 PM was around 44 degrees Celsius. Fields were dry and yellow. In the rest of Europe you see a mild powder blue sky. Here the sky was like India’s, a blinding blue-white. It looks colourful in the featured photo because I took it through a polarized filter. If I hadn’t, then all the colours would have been bleached out.
The Family looked out and said "The countryside is so flat." That it is, as you see in the featured photo. We’d seen this flat countryside between Madrid and Barcelona, and then again on our way to Seville. Now it looked like it was going to be flat all the way.
We had a little surprise about an hour out of Seville. An announcement on the train told us that there was work on the tracks, so our train would stop at the next station. We were to get out and follow railway staff who would take us to a bus. We’d noted earlier that changes are conducted very efficiently by the friendly staff who take special care of foreigners, even though they usually speak very little English. We came to some buses parked near the exit from the station. Someone told us which was the bus to Granada.
On the highway we finally saw some hills. You can see one of them in the photo above. Tomorrow we plan to climb one which stands at the centre of Granada to see the Alhambra.
We arrived at night in Seville and thought it looked charming. It still looked wonderful in the morning when we walked through the centre and joined a long queue of people waiting to buy tickets for a visit to the Alcazar. This is an old palace which was built about eleven centuries ago, and remodelled many times later.
I will write about it in more detail later. The part which you see above was built by the Moors, and remodelled later by Moorish craftsmen who had not converted to Christianity. These craftsmen remodelled the palace, and gave their name, Mujedar, to the style of architecture which you see here.
Such an ornate palace has to be a location where movies or serials are shot. Sure enough, the room you see in the photo above is supposed to have featured in The Game of Thrones. I don’t follow the serial, but if you do, then maybe you can recognize it.
You may know this feeling: that our deepest insights into the world come from talking to a taxi driver. A colleague uses this method to predict election results, and is not wrong more often than right. I use this method to find out a little about any new country I visit.
This is hard in Spain, because most Spaniards do not speak English. In Madrid we had the luck to get into a taxi driven by a Nigerian emigre. He said he loved Spain because of the weather and the attitude of people even though it was not a rich country. The Family raised a questioning eyebrow at me. I shrugged a silent "No idea" in reply.
Later I looked at the web. Spain, like most of the rest of the world has been in financial shock in the last few years. It is certainly not in the world’s top ten economies. But is it rich or poor? I guess one way to judge is by the purchasing power of people. The taxi driver we talked to visited Nigeria every year, and had taken a vacation in Japan and India. So he was better off than any taxi driver we had met in China or India.
I decided to look at another measure: the per capita gross domestic product. This is the average economic output of each person in the country. Of course this is a very indirect way to measure the wealth of people, but it is indicative in some ways. By this count the USA tops the world with about 55,120 USD per head in 2017. The triad of UK, Canada and Germany follow closely, with 43815, 41098 and 40133 USD per head. France, Japan and Italy are also rich by this measure with 35,566, 34,715 and 29,605 USD per head. Of the world’s top ten economies, Brazil and China are distinctly middle-income, with per capita GDP of 8,508 and 7,944 USD respectively. India, with 1,490 USD per head is the poorest of the top ten economies of the world.
I could not find this year’s data for Spain. I had to go back to data from two years ago. Then Spain had a per capita GDP of 25,752 USD. This could make it poor by European standards, but definitely one of the richest in the world. Score one more insight due to chatting with a taxi driver.
Our first evening in Barcelona was spent in a lovely bar in the Eixample district. I understand that the notion of tapas started with bars serving little eats to customers so that they would stay on for a second drink. Unfortunately, these little eats are no longer free, or even cheap.
We sat outside the friendly neighbourhood bar. After the heat of the day, The Family wanted a Sangria. I decided to have a glass of Rioja. The little dishes kept coming: anchovies, local ham, a couple of tostadas, grilled chilis, a wonderful blue cheese. We stayed on for another glass of wine. People from the neighbourhood dropped into the bar in ones and twos. A small birthday party was in progress in a neighbouring table.
As we munched a fresh and light tostada, The Family said "It’s all so fresh and light." The toast, for example, had tomatoes, greens and smoked salmon with olive oil. Later the waiter got us a simple thing he wanted us to taste. "Totally local", he said. It was bit of toast soaked in fragrant olive oil and some grated tomato on top. Light and simple.
It was a lovely relaxed evening, exactly what tapas is designed to create.
I am told that life is now too hectic in Spain for an old-fashioned siesta. Schools let youngsters have a nap after lunch, shops shut for a few hours in the afternoon, and, as likely as not, keep open till midnight. Still, a real siesta? Unlikely.
Not always, I found while walking around in Madrid.