I came. I saw. I fell in love.
I have never been to Greece but the first image that comes to mind is white-washed houses infused with blue set atops hills alongside bright colourful flowers. Granada looked like that. But with orange trees ofcourse.
We reached on Christmas morning after a tiring overnight bus journey. The hostel was the first positive sign. Quaint and home-like with wonderful staff around. Then started the walk to nowhere. Through narrow alleys, trudging uphill, running downhill, encountering a few souvenir shops, seeing families in their festive best coming out of churches laughing. And inhaling the cold air fragranced with the smell of citrus. I should have seen it coming.
Amidst this, a chance encounter ensued. Being Christmas, I sincerely hoped someone would invite us to eat, perpetually hungry and food getting the better of me as always. So here’s what happens: the road forks into two, we pause, ponder a bit and then decide to take left for no particular reason and walk along. 5 minutes after, we pass a house, with an old man drinking beer at the porch. He acknowledges with a “Namaste” and I smile, impressed. Then follows a question in Hindi. And then “Ungaluku Tamizh theiryama?” (do you know Tamil?). Okay Ol’ man, so you now have my full attention. And before I knew, we were invited to his “Cave”. A cave in the real sense of the word. Turns out our 70-year old Mexican friend got the ‘calling’ in his heydays and went to India, co-founded Auroville, lived a spiritual life for a few decades serving people and now settled cosily in the caves of Granada with a beautiful Porsche for company. Oh, and did I tell you he happens to be the cousin brother of Carlos Santana. How ‘Smooth‘ is that?!
Funny how fate takes its own course. Here we were, almost skipping Granada from our itinerary as it was stretching our budget. The BEST hostel stay was here, albeit a night. A bartender who served a super Polish dinner for us. Interesting people I met – a physicist couple from Slovenia. A gay couple. An american who dint know why he was doing an MBA (and thats not something I intend delving into, mind you). The Alhambra ofcourse. Along with perfect weather in a region that is otherwise known to have rainy season this time of the year. And finally, a great 24-but-acts-like-34 travel buddy.
Hasta la vista, Granada mi amor.
Seville helped with the transition and pain of separating from Granada. Another city with culture & traditions that it fiercely protects. The flamenco dance was definitely the stand-out event of the stay. Another chance conversation with Mr Antonio Banderas from Israel while cooking at the hostel, and the next thing is we are invited for a free show. I went along, being a tad suspicious, but returned that evening totally overwhelmed. The dance moves, the passion and the way the band and audience were deeply involved for those 45-odd minutes is something that will forever be etched in my memory.
Muchas gracias España. I was waiting to see you for many years and you dint disappoint me at all.
My 2 cents:
Barcelona: Well, you cant go to Spain and not go to Barcelona. So go!
Valencia: For a way-too-beautiful drive along the coast from Barca. For Paella. And for all the good looking men (and women!), to put it mildly.
Granada & Sevilla (Andalusia): Beyond Recommendation. Bliss.