Mi Andalusia
Trip Start
Jun 03, 2008
1
22
23
Trip End
Oct 14, 2008
Córdoba,
Andalusia,
Spain and Canary Islands
Friday, August 8, 2008
Seville has the quietest Moor palace of all three, the Alcazar. All the signature architectual elements that made Granada famous can be found here, minus the crowd. There are lively water fountains that extend from indoor to outdoor, sparkingly ceramic mosaics, elaborately carved plant and arabic phrase motifs, tiny courtyards to acommodate the king's harem, and peacocks taking advantage of the expansive outer garden. In beauty and livelyness it is a clear winner over the gigiantic city cathedral next door, one of the largest in Spain and the second biggest draw of town.
Outside,the streets around town center offer undiluted Audalusian fun. White flowered orange trees line the street. Horse carriges with big bright yellow wheels do a brisk business with tourists. The horses wore funny eye masks that blocks side vision, presumably help them focus on work. Official drink is sangria, with little bits orange peels bobbing up and down the pretty pink glass. Explore beyond the ubiquitous Pealla, and you will awarded with delicously grilled seafood, sausages, ham with potato, and the flavorful Spanish omlette- really an omlette of patato. At night, you may be lucky enough to get a ticket to the concert in Alcazar garden, or content with eating at an open patio under orange trees, occasionally serenaded by consumed local band passing by. My favorite hole-in-the-wall place has 2 big wine barrels serving as tables, and 4 walls plastered with vintage posters announcing Flamenco shows and bullfights, the most current one being the 2008 bullfighting season. Every design lovely spanish in their vibrant color, art inspired by tradition. Even managed to bump into a hotel that is converted from an old mansion. The building has a beautiful inner courtyard with a fern draped fountain as center piece. Second floor balconies are supplied with beautiful iron work, vintage sofa overlooking the courtyard, old dressing mirrors and religeous figurines. So Spanish.
The Alhambra palace at Granada, of course, is synonymous with the architectural wonders left by the Moor, Northern African monarchs who once controled much of what is now Southern Spain. These Islamic flavored palaces are richly decorated with carvings, reflection pools and fountains, simply wonders to behold. But Granada has really become too famous for its own good. Ticket line for the main palaces start forming before 6 in the morning. So at 5:30, I braved into the darkness, passing night revelers playing their last songs, then some tree lined, scarily dark walks in the park, to reach the palace perched on a hill away from town. After 2 hours alternative nap and chat with an ever growing line of other travellers, the ticket office finally opened. With such popularity, it was no surprise to find more lines to wait in in front of palace, and huge crowds inside. So there I was taking another nap at the exit of place, sitting on the floor of the lovely El Portal Palace, and blinking weary eyes at its beautiful reflection in the emrald green pool. Yes it is beautiful. but at a hefty price.
The Albayzín, old Jewish quarter, is the other highlight at Granada. I have long learned about its fame for windy, narrow streets that provokes sense of adventure and also facilitates mugging, and cautiously made my way in. Aside from one guy relieving himself on a particularly narrow and windy street (which I immediately turned away from), there was no offensive behavior met. And it was indeed fun to wander through its ever expanding layers of white walled houses, churches, plazas. Every other street leads to a bend, then a dead end at a small yard. Sometimes it is an unexpected Arabic themed souvenir store, grocery or hostel that surprise you. But mostly nobody is around but a few children, and the sleepy neiborhood feels rather like an ancient village. That is till twilight time, when the village suddenly spring to life. Streams of people show up from no where to gaze at Alhambra bathing in the afterglow, then disperse into discreetly hidden restaurants and flameco show locales.
Then there is Cordoba, where entire city center is declared World Heritage Site, people live among their history, and my fellow bus passengers kiss their fingers upon mentioning the name of its grand Mosque. This is the place to watch and touch time. Time frozen in elegant pensions decorated with elegant ceremics, their lush inner courtyard covered with sunshade during day time. Time dissolved in the arabic bath, where bathers stare at star shaped windows from the huge communal pool in between rounds at the fragrant steam room. Time trickling by gently in the forgoten plaza lined by old buildings,orange trees, and a casual bar serving delicously grilled cuttlefish on skewers. Diners take time to work on their beer, as kids peeking out from behind flower covered walls.
Audalusia is in the blood of the city. At day time, the burning sun drive pedestrians into the smallest patches of shades along the street. Wherever you raise head, the bright blue sky and skyline of white houses looks coming right out of Lonely Planet cover. The night I visited, Spaniards and tourists flocked to the annual gypsy festval. Busy tables were spread on a raised square. Beer and seafood sold on one side. At the center stage local lady champions put on a show of singing in Mantilla and flamboyant Flamenco dresses. Much of emphasis was on volume, with each bigger award granted to a louder voice from a more robust chest. Expression of emotion was further enhanced by dramatic steping in the tight dresses, stabbing of fingers, throwing of scarf over shoulders, and all kinds of mauneuvers with the fan. Flamenco champions performed too. Moves are more rigid than professionals seen at shows staged for tourists, but emotions more sincere. You know this is community celebrating life when 12 year old girls took the stage showing their slightly awkward best. As the singing grand champion, a lady wearing black dress, lace mantilla and a red flower for headress bent her knees and reached the end of her breath to sing 'mi Andalucia' lovingly to her best volume, audience clapped madly, and you know you've witnessed, tasted and breathed Andalucia.
