With no rail service linking Toledo with southern Spain, we ended up renting a spiffy red manual transmission Nissan hatchback to convey us to Granada. As the only member of the household able to operate stick shift, Kaberi warily assumed the driving responsibilities. Having learned to drive manual on the interior flatlands of the American Midwest, Kaberi was concerned with managing the rigors of the Spanish topography. Although one early modest incline exiting Toledo’s train station nearly proved to be her undoing (she stalled on the first attempt up the ramp), the remainder of the journey went smoothly and without further incident. Upon dropping off the car at the Granada train station, we both breathed large sighs of relief before taking a cab the last few kilometers to our midtown hotel, the quietly charming Hotel Palacio de Las Navas.We quickly settled into our white-on-white hotel room per our usual routine: Vik setting up a wireless Internet connection and Kaberi devising an agenda by reading through the relevant sections of our Rough Guide. During this process, Kaberi learned that tickets to Granada’s flagship attraction, the Alhambra, were rationed daily, prone to sellouts in peak tourist season and best purchased twenty-four hours in advance on the web. When Vik logged on to buy two tickets for the following day, a Saturday, he sheepishly discovered that there were no tickets available. After the completion of Kaberi’s tirade about the entire trip being ruined by poor advance planning, we decided to try our luck with buying tickets at the attraction’s front gate.
After a 10-minute afternoon bus ride up Granada’s hillside, we found ourselves at the Alhambra’s front entrance. To our considerable surprise and to Vik’s considerable relief, it took all of five seconds to stand in line and buy two admission tickets. Furthermore, the Friday afternoon queue was quite modest, and we were able to enter the complex unabated and in short order. After strolling through the gardens, we followed the recommended itinerary of the audio tour through the older alcazaba complex. Per the guidelines of our tickets (which prespecified a 15-minute admission window), we entered the Palacio Árabe (Moorish Palace) grounds at exactly 5:00 pm, and happened to be the last two patrons allowed in the grouping. Taking advantage of the position, we lingered behind the rest of the group our time in order to take in the surroundings in relative privacy.
Without a doubt, the Palacio Árabe was the crowning highlight of our visit to southern Spain. It boasted exquisitely-beautiful carvings and adornment on a scale that we could scarcely imagine and, in so doing, dwarfed that of the Taj Mahal. One of the most astonishing features of the Palace was the stark contrast between the seemingly-bland exterior walls (a trademark of Islamic construction designed to ward off undue attention or “the evil eye”) in comparison to the stunningly intricate detail in the interior courtyards and private living spaces.
Exhausted by our four hour tour of the Alhambra in the afternoon sun, we made our way out of the complex in search of refreshment. After a kindly local tour guide personally led us to a charming plaza at the base of the hill, we enjoyed a quick snack of tapas and cool drinks while taking in the local charm. After returning to the hotel on foot, we relaxed and freshened up before heading out again to dinner a few hours later. The panoply of Spanish language signs at every turn made Vik crave Mexican food, and he led us to a dark, unforgettable Mexican joint in the center of town where our meal compared unfavorably with Taco Bell (nevertheless, Vik boasted a big grin for the next several hours).
With the Alhambra crossed off of Kaberi’s Granada To Do list, we approached the next day at a more leisurely pace. After an unremarkable hotel breakfast of jambon e queso (an apparent trademark of the region), we ventured to Mirarse de San Nicolas in the Albaycin, the Muslim part of town, to enjoy sweeping views the Alhambra from below the fortress’s embankment. After sitting down at El Huerto de Juan Ranas for a drink, we got a sampling of some extraordinarily-surly service apparently reserved for those of us dumb enough to spend 5 Euros on a miniature can of diet Coke. After catching a local bus back to the town center, we took our own time milling about, peeking in at the town cathedral before returning to the hotel.
In the evening, we walked to Granada’s main plaza and enjoyed an impromptu flamenco performance. Afterward, we had dinner nearby at a streetside café where we feasted on fresh local specialties as we watched the passing pedestrians (a number of whom were rather tightly-clad young Spanish women, much to Vik’s chagrin). With an early wake-up call awaiting us the following morning in order to catch the 8:00 am train to Sevilla, we skipped dessert and turned in early after a satisfying capstone day.
