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Adventures in Andalucía

December 12, 2008

Have I mentioned before how much I love traveling by bus? Something on par with filling out government paperwork, getting blood drawn, and having multiple final exams in one day? Forget I said it, because otherwise what follows will seem utter insanity. Determined to see the south of Spain before returning to the US, and equally determined to do it in the best-timed, most cost effective manner possible, I embarked on an epic overnight bus journey from Oviedo to Granada, a trip of some twelve hours. I just looked at how far apart the two cities are on a map, and I still can’t believe that I went there and back—and had time to see anything—in the space of about three and a half days.

The bus rides were as long and tedious as I expected, particularly because I am cursed with an inability to sleep sitting up. But I would willingly suffer such discomfort again to be able to visit Granada. The city was the capital of the last Muslim kingdom in Spain until the end of the Reconquest in 1492, and its most famous landmark is the Alhambra, the palace of the Muslim princes. Seeing the Alhambra was my primary motivation for enduring a sleepless night on a bus; I bought my ticket about a month in advance and presented myself there at about 9:30 in the morning, all sleepiness forgotten. I was not disappointed.

Built on the side of a mountain, the sprawling complex commands an excellent view of the city below, and while from the outside its stone walls seem to indicate pure functionality, within graceful arches lead to spacious patios with quiet fountains and tranquil gardens. The walls carry intricate carvings—flowers, vegetation, stars, calligraphy—in white plaster and geometric patterns of tiles in blue, green, and white. Even the ceilings are lavishly decorated. But the most incredible thing about the Alhambra is the way it unites architecture and nature. None of the buildings are more than about two floors, the narrow columns lend the facades a sense of lightness, and the aesthetics depend as much on light, water, and sound as on architectural details. Instead of trying to dominate nature, the palaces seek harmony. In this regard, I commend the architects for the brilliant achievement of their goal: creating a true paradise on earth.

Having visited the Alhambra, seeing anything else in Granada was icing. I wandered through the Albaicín, the city’s well-preserved Arab quarter, browsing the colorful stands and resting my weary legs in teterías, Arab tea houses which, in addition to their plethora of teas, offer selections of the most incredible pastries. In one of these I met a pair of fellow travelers, with whom I passed the rest of the day. We went to the Cathedral and the Capilla Real, where Spain’s Catholic monarchs, Isabel and Ferdinand, are buried, and when darkness fell two of us walked back through the Albaicín to see the Alhambra by night. When I finally returned to my hostel, I collapsed into bed and slept like a rock.

The insubstantial shadows of the Sierra Nevada watched through the next morning’s clouds as I departed Granada for Córdoba, capital of Muslim Spain at the height of its power. For about two and a half hours I traveled in yet another bus over rolling hills covered in more olive trees than I knew existed in the world, let alone in a single country. I arrived in Córdoba in the early afternoon under an undecided sky which at intervals showered the city in light rain. Undeterred—it was nothing compared to the snows of Belgium—I ventured forth with my camera in one hand and my umbrella in the other. Córdoba boasts numerous points of interest: a Roman bridge, the ruins of a Roman temple, the Reconquest-era alcázar where Ferdinand and Isabel sent Columbus on his way, one of Spain’s three remaining synagogues, the remains of Arab baths . . . During my 24-hour stay I visited all these and more.

But the crown jewel of Córdoba’s attractions is the Mezquita, the city’s Muslim-era mosque, perhaps the most important Islamic construction in the Western world. A patio of orange trees greets visitors before they enter the mosque, while inside a forest of columns supports its iconic red-and-white striped arches. When Córdoba fell to the Christian kings, the Mezquita was converted into a cathedral, and a soaring domed cupola and Catholic alter were constructed in the center. Today it remains a functioning cathedral, and indeed when I visited the choir was holding practice. The unlikely combination of architectural styles is a graphic reminder of Spain’s mixed heritage. Not for nothing is the Mezquita held in such high regard.

Though not as abundant as Granada’s, Córdoba has a fair number of teterías, which I sought out diligently. Yes, I’m a sucker for tea. The city also seems to be brimming with orange trees and tapas bars, and dining in the latter is a great way to get a normal-sized meal at a reasonable price. Normal-sized for me, anyway—I’m sure my teenage brother would have no complaints about the standard three-course Spanish meal. In any case, if you’re not a big eater, tapas are a good way to go.

I’ll leave you to imagine the bus rides back via Granada—I’d rather not think about them. There’s only one more thing I want to mention, because it has bearing on my entire time in Spain. In both Granada and Córdoba I met Spaniards (mostly in hostels, but also in other places), and when I spoke with any of them for any length of time someone invariably told me that I speak Spanish very well. But I have finally come to believe it without having to be told. Traveling solo through the south of Spain convinced me that I can hold my own in Spanish, regardless of the situation. I can’t describe the satisfaction this gives me. When I arrived in Spain I hoped that I would eventually reach this point, but wasn’t sure how I would do it or even if it were possible. Now I can leave Spain content in the knowledge that I’ve done what I came here to do.

This will be my last entry from Spain, my last entry of the semester. If you’ve read my journals over the past few months, you’ll know it’s been an incredible stay. I don’t think I’ll really appreciate just how incredible until I’ve been gone for a while, but I can safely say that before I arrived I never imagined that a person could have so many different experiences in such a short space of time. Every bout of homesickness, every struggle, every frustration, every uncertainty has been more than worth it. And having survived Spain, I feel more confident about spending next semester in Morocco. Doubtless Morocco will come with its own unique challenges, but after my time in Spain I feel better equipped to face whatever awaits me across the Straits of Gibraltar. Check back in February to find out about my first impressions of Morocco. Until then, happy holidays, and thank you for reading!

Photos 1 and 3: The Alhambra
Photo 2: Granada from the Alhambra
Photo 4: The Patio de las Naranjas in the Mezquita in Córdoba
Photos 5 and 6: Inside the Mezquita

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