Whirlwind Tour

After a huge snack supper in the hotel bar, washed down with a bottle of cheap Rioja from a nearby gas station shop, we touched base with home, thanks to the excellent in house wi-fi network, with its rigorous security protocols (one device only per user). Then we turned in, coping with the heat of the night, rather than the noise and chill of the zealous air conditioning system. We were up at dawn and heading out into the rush hour traffic for the last 11km stretch into Granada, by 8.30am, making for the Alhambra's hillside car park. By 9.10am we were walking down the tree shaded path below the Palace walls, enjoying the cool mist from irrigation system sprinklers which bathe the trees with water during the day. A very special way to start and finish a walking tour around Granada, where summer temperatures of 35-40C are considered normal.

We followed the road up the side of the Darro river which flows through the valley below the walls of the Alhambra Palace, then climbed up through the Albayzin barrio for a beer and a tapa in the Plaza Larga, before visiting the Mirador San Nicolas to take a selfie or two to send to the family. Owain is the only one not to have been with us on various previous outings to Granada. I was so glad at last to put this right.

Work on San Nicholas church has progressed somewhat since I was here this time last year. The chancel rood has been removed entirely and reconstructive work on the top of the walls goes on before a new beams and tiling can be added. Before making our way down to the city through the back streets of the barrio, I took Owain to show him the new Granada mosque which is quite near the Mirador. It's not open to the public at the moment, only at the prescribed times for prayer for Eid el Fitr. 

Outside there was a young woman, plainly dressed, wearing a hijab, engaging three girls in English whom I think were American or maybe Spanish tourists, dressed down, as westerners do, for the heat, reliant on the mercy of sun-cream to compensate for their lack clothing. It was, apparently, a dialogue of the deaf, which left the young muslim woman with a look of exasperation on her face.

I wished her 'Eid Mubarak' and we chatted with her for a while. From her speech, she might have been an English speaking Swiss German or Austrian convert, in search of a new authentic way of life, and eager to give an account of her new lifestyle choices to anyone willing to take her on. It's one of those cases of learning by doing. She had a lot to say, overlaid with presumptions about the nature of others' faith, but wasn't too good at listening, yet. 

After a while we parted company, with a mutual blessing. I wondered about her journey of faith and who was helping her on her way. Owain and I spoke about spiritual struggle in Christian spirituality and jihad in Islam, as we wound our way down steep narrow streets to the main street. From there we made a brief excursion into the old town area where the Cathedral and Chapel Royal of Los Reyes Catolicos are situated, but as it was getting really hot we decided this was enough of a taster visit for Owain, and headed back up to the car park.

On the way there, I found an open door in a gateway which gave us access into the area in between the Alhambra Palace and the Alcazaba fortress known as the Patio de Machuca. I recognised where we were, but had forgotten this part was open to the public without the need for booking tickets. This enabled Owain to have a glimpse at the domain from the inside, which was most pleasing to be able to share. By 1.30pm we were on our way out of Granada, heading for the autovia that would take us back to Salobrenia on the coast, and on to Nerja. It's such a spectacular journey to share. We parked in the main surface car park in Nerja, walked about and saw something of the beaches and the Balcon de Europa, before lunching on beer and tapas at Biznaga in the Plaza El Salvador, which is a favourite place for Clare and I.

Suitably refreshed we headed back to Malaga, at a lazy pace alone the coast road all the way. We ended up hunting for petrol in rush hour traffic, having missed an opportunity to refuel on our way into town, and this took us all over the inner city, nearly on empty. It was gone six when we reached the apartment. Owain went for a swim while I did some Monday shopping, then later we ventured out in the cool of the evening to eat at the Cafeteria Flor across the street. The food was excellent. It was a little too noisy for eating out doors for my comfort. Owain was happy however, tucking into a generous portion of pez espada, one of our family favourites - swordfish. A nice memory to take with him back to Bristol. It's been lovely to have quality time together. More of the same would do us both good, I reckon.

  

  

Journey into the Andalusian interior

I arranged to visit Doreen, the Chaplaincy Curate this morning, and take a tour of the area she's lived in for the past thirteen years, just two o them, since she was ordained. We arranged to meet at the village of Salinas. Google maps confidently showed me this was just to the north of the conurbation of Málaga quite close to the autovia in the commuter town of Puerto de la Torre. I was under the impression that my destination was much further away, and set out harbouring an uncertain feeling. I arrived in good time, but could find no signage to Salinas anywhere. Mystified, I phoned Doreen who confirmed my worst fear. She didn't even know where I was!

Salinas is a common enough place name, referring to the salt industry that's part of its history. Our rendezvous has Salinas Granada as an address although it's actually in Málaga province. The village is in an area where Granada Cordoba and Malaga provincial boundaries intersect. It's like Mulhouse outside Basel, where France, Germany and Switzerland have shared borders, and an airport. It's known as the 'Dreieck' - the three corners. This meant I had another three quarters of an hour's drive, once I had Doreen's instructions.

Fortunately, I was only five minutes drive away from the junction for the Granada autovia. The correct Salinas was easy to find and I arrived but an hour late. We had a coffee and a village bar and then went to see the Ermita, where Anglican services are held. It can accommodate fifty people, and there's an adjacent suite of rooms for social use. This one is I believe dedicated to San Isidro Laborador, patron saint of landless peasants.

It's an early 20th century building in traditional style. It has a suite of church rooms attached to the chapel's south side, originally this housed the first village school, but now, social events. It's the same pattern as many mission churches built in South Wales in the early years of the coal mining boom, to meet the pastoral needs of families migrating to the valleys from rural areas. A useful sort of building to have in a newly developing area.

From another village several kilometres away Doreen drove us and talked about people and villages, the locals and the expat settlers she knew. We did a big circuit of half the Embalse de Iznagar a 35km flooded valley providing both water and hydroelectric power. But four years of drought have dropped the water level by 50-60 metres, exposing a barren shore line, drowned farmhouses and even a handsome brick built road bridge down in the valley below the modern one. There's a huge shallow sloping area of exposed land called 'La Playa', and treated as a beach when waters are low. It's great birdwatching terrain, although in the heat of the day there was little to see and snap.

The hill town of Iznagar with its prominent church and castillo is perched impressively on a high promontory overlooking both halves of the lake. Apparently many Brits have settled there. We went to the hamlet of La Parilla where Doreen lives and had a beer and tapas lunch on a table in the narrow street. Doreen comes here often at lunchtime and meets her neighbours and friends as they pass by.

We visited the local Ermita de Nuestra Señora de Socorro, which last week celebrated its 300th anniversary. The local kids are now bussed out to their classes, but the church has an annexe once used as a school and a couple of back rooms kitted out with beds. For travellers? 'Hospedia' over the door suggests a lodging place provided by the faithful for visitors, maybe itinerant labourers. The hamlet is too small to have its own inn. Impressive to see this remnant of another age, in this once poor region, I suspect, not so long ago.

This is solidly an olive growing region. Andalusia is one of the world's major olive oil producers. There was evidence of many new trees being planted. Spain is benefiting from the drop in production due to war in the Middle East and a nasty olive tree plague hitting Italian and Greek crops. Spain is said now to export to other olive oil producers who then re-badge and sell on as their own produce, provided it is stored in the host country for long enough. Thus a measure of unexpected new prosperity comes to a region that has previously lagged behind more industrialised places.

While stopping for refreshments we saw a spotted flycatcher, and a long tailed tit. Also a spotless starling. At one point we get a great view of a honey buzzard patrolling the thermals above us on the mountainside. But that was all. No hoopoes or bee eaters, or kites or other more exotic locals like the blue rock thrush and azure magpie, but never mind, we has a great day of conversation, which was most enjoyable.

The only misfortune was a wasp sting on my ring finger. I took off the ring and sucked out the venom, then transferred ring to the little finger of the other hand. I found this most uncomfortable and eventually transferred it back, as my finger hadn't swollen.

When I returned there were three documents to send out for the BCRP board meeting for reading before Monday. This normally give minute task took five hours or trial and error due to network congestion. A pretty rotten way to end an amazing beautiful day discovering inland Spain.

  

Albayzin revisited

We left just after nine this morning and drove to Granada in perfect conditions, and by half past ten we were parked under a shady tree in the area about the entrance to the Alhambra Palace. Already the public address system was telling people queuing that tickets for the day were sold out, and that only bookings for subsequent days could be taken. It must be one of Spain's most popular tourism venues, and justifiably so.

Instead of descending to the city along the busy main pathway, we took a path which descended around the opposite side of the entire domain. This took us down to a bridge across the Rio Darra directly opposite the main access road to the Albayzin barrio, which was where most wanted to spend time. We stayed there in 2004 for Anto and I to attend a flamenco guitar course, and again in 2005 for my 60th birthday. It's a very special place for family family memories, as Kath and Anto came with Rhiannon when she was only six months old, and then again when she was a toddler.

We found it difficult to recall exactly which houses we'd stayed in on either visit, but not the places where we ate and drank. We had a second breakfast in the Plaza Larga, and a little later, when it opened, to Bar Miguel, where Anto and I had hung out to drink beer and eat sardinas when classes were over. It has been run by Miguel Ferrer since 1967. When I was here last year, it was closed for building renovation. The interior is still in the same style, but looks spruce and smart. A decade ago it seemed to be a bar mainly para los hombres, but Andalucia, like many other european countries has evolved in a more socially egalitarian spirit. The non-smokng ban has made a great difference too, making all food and drink a much more enjoyable experience.

Then we strolled the streets, pausing for a long while at one of the 12th century gateways into the barrio to listen to a young viola player, who was working her way through the first of Bach's 'cello suites. It may not be the right instrument, but playing the smaller instrument makes for a very lively nimble rendering, filling the street either side of the gateway with sweet sounds. The street on the outer side is called 'Callejon de Sta Cecilia' St Cecilia's Steps - the patron saint of music. I know much of the 'cello suites by heart after many years of listening, and was moved to tears of delight by this unexpected moment.

The gateway has lately endured a blitz of unprepossessing graffiti, rescued from utter annoyance by the presence of these words: 'Preguntate sobre tus miedos' - Question your fears. An interesting form of Wayside Pulpit this is. 

Our next stop was the Mirador de St Nicolas, a bread terrace overlooking the city below, with a wonderful view of the Alhambra and the entire valley in which the city of Granada is set. Three flamenco guitarristas and a singer were busking there, with great vigour, that people listening or passing by were jigging along to the catchy rhythm. We visited Granada's main mosque, built with funding from the United Arab Emirates, opened in 2003. In front of the buildings is a beautiful Andalusian style courtyard garden. There's no minaret, but the Mujedar building style is one that's used in common by buildings in Spain, so it fits in naturally and discreetly.

The sixteenth century church is currently undergoing restoration, and over the past century or so has suffered unusually from misfortune - fires and lightening strikes. The south porch opening on to the mirador has been adapted into a visitor centre and gift shop. Only the church tower is open for visitors to climb and get an exceptional 360 degree view of the barrio and the city. Funds from the entrance charge go towards the enormous cost of restoration work. It's a very enterprising venture on the part of the Amigos de San Nicolas, to ensure their landmark site church, closed for the past five years, has a future life.

We had a light lunch at Kiki's restaurant near the mirador before walking slowly in the afternoon heat back down through the barrio, and going uphill the other side to the car park, this time using the main access route to the Alhambra, shaded with trees and blessed with the sound of running water. Half a dozen local police officers were out and about, shooing away gitanas, also out and about offering sprigs of rosemary to tourists as a pretext to beg from them. It's how life is on the fringes of a World Heritage site is, in this part of the world.

Having practised taking photos from the car window on the way up, Clare took lots more on the return journey, of the string of reservoir lakes to the east of the Pass of the Moor's Sigh. She has a good level steady hand, and as result the edited pictures give a good idea of the spectacular scenery and amazing highway engineeering, which perches the road on viaducts and bridges over lakes one can see from high in the air on the final run in to Malaga aiport.

After a delightful day, I cooked a seafood paella, while Clare went swimming, and in the cool of the evening we ate out on the terrace, with much contentment.

Granada revisited

After another humid night's sleep I woke up at first light and resolved to go out for the day. By 8.30, I was on my way to revisit Granada, enjoying the spectacular views which the Autovia gives as it rises through the Alpujarras, skirting huge reservoirs on long tall viaducts. Nowhere to stop and take photos unfortunately. Next time I must make sure to take a passenger or have someone else drive.

The Autovia goes over the 860m pass known as the Puerto del Suspiro del Moro before descending to the plain where most of the modern city lies. It's said to be the last place on the east-west highway from which the Alhambra Palace on the hillside above the plain, can be seen. The Moor's sigh was that of Boabdil, the last muslim ruler of the city as he went into exile after the city was conquered by a Christian army. It was none too easy in the morning haze to identify anything in the distance eight miles away.

I followed the bypass road which took me straight to the Alhambra Palace, aware that I'd find parking there, or at the large public cementario close by, but I missed the turning first time and ended up on a tour of the city centre, before finding my way to a tree shaded space inside the permiter of the Palace tourism area. From there I walked right down into the old quarter and up the other side into the Albayzin, where we stayed ten years ago when Anto and I came out for a flamenco guitar course. Here are the photos from that occasion, back in September 2004.

Despite recently reviewing the photos I took at that time, only as I walked around did my memory seem to re-activate and associate with the environment. The mini market where we used to buy food during our stay seems to have closed. It was too early in the day for many of the restaurants to have even laid out their tables. Miguel's bar was closed too, but I found the Bar de las Quatros Esquinas open near the top entrance to the barrio, serving breakfast and morning coffee to local clientele. It's a district still remarkably free of garish advertising. There are still a number of tumbledown properties being renovated, as ever in a quarter of old buildings, but they are different ones. It all feels well cared for. If there is prosperity behind the walls facing the streets, it's not for display.

Right down the bottom end of the barrio, I discovered an open gateway to the garden and ducal Palacio de los Cordova in it, which I don't recall being open a decade ago. It may have been under renovation at the time. It was handed over to the city for development as a city archive centre back in the late seventies. It was lovely to discover such a fine place. I look back at my old photos and realise how much we did see, but there's still so much more to see, as the city is so rich in historic buildings as well as those of the Alhambra Palace. Photos from my birthday visit in 2005 are here.

From the Albayzin, I made my way down into that part of the city centre containing the Cathedral, which feels so closely wedged into the surrounding streets. It's an immense building, but in a way it fails to be imposing as it might be because there are few places from where you can get a perspective on its grandeur, much like Malaga, Valencia and Tortosa Cathedrals, visited in recent years. Attached to one end of the Cathedral is a grand Capilla Real (Chapel Royal) dating from just after the reconquista, 1505.  It's the last resting place of Fredinand and Isabella and several others, honoured by the Pope with the Catholic Monarchs in tribute to the achievement ending moorish rule in Spain. Later Spanish monarchs were interred at the El Escorial monastery near Madrid.

The Cathedral, in Spanish renaissance style, rather than Gothic, was established soon after, on the site of the city's main mosque, and took a century and a half to build. Unlike others, it wasn't a site that was once a church being reclaimed from Islam. Like others, this site was at the heart of the ancient 'central business district' as we'd call it today. Clearing a much larger site to give the new buildings a decent aspect would have been an imposition not worth risking for the conquering monarchs.

It's interesting to observe, since my last visit, that many of the streets in this now fashionable stylish old trading area have sun canopies suspended from their sixth storey roofs. It's not something I recall from a decade ago. The persistence of higher than average temperatures inland call for some measure of this kind from a public health perspective, with so many visitors all day every day, who are not always as sensible about going out in the heat of the day, and don't take a siesta. Neverthless the light brown canvas awnings providing shade detract from the aesthetics of the built environment. It will be interesting to see in the long term what innovations emerge to provide a pleasing solution. 

Malaga has opted for avenues of well managed trees, over and above the traditional ones in places where people walk or ride their horses. In Granada, the hillside on which the Alhambra Palace sits is covered with trees shading visitors as they walk to and from the town. The hill has a good supply of water and both trees and ground vegetation get a good soaking during the day. This may be too costly a solution in times of water scarcity, however. Learning to live in cities with consequences of global warming is of of the great challenges facing the next generation. Perhaps we'll start building downwards into the cool earth, and cover our public spaces and buildings with huge photo-voltaic translucent powering them - Hobbit cities.

By one o'clock, I'd been walking non stop for three hours and the temperature was rising. Rather than exhaust myself, I headed back to Nerja and a late lunch, already thinking about a further visit with Clare and another sojourn in the Albayzin, fondly remembered. Photos from today's visit are here.