Made it to Granada and checked into our absolutely beautiful hotel, Casa del Capitel Nazari, built in a renovated old house with an attached museum. Wade and I split up to run errands (one of my main errands may have included getting myself some ice cream). I didn't have to look hard for ice cream and found it within minutes. I picked up our Alhambra tickets purchased online and then I visited the cathedral in town and then headed over to find a famous churros and chocolate place called Cafe Futbol. I followed my ice cream snack with some delicious churros and a teacup full of hot pudding-ey chocolate to dip them in. Wade met back up with me and we went for a walk, checking out some art stores and then a small church named Iglesia de San Pedro. The church is full of trinkets and you can climb up lots of uneven stairs to the bell tower. You can see Alhambra on the hill overlooking the town and I can't wait to go inside. Visiting Alhambra has been a dream of mine after seeing so many pictures of it on the internet. We also went to see a Spanish Inquisition museum exhibit with medieval torture devices,history of the town during the Inquisition, and preservation of extremely old Jewish artifacts. We head to bed early, as we didn't sleep much today with our early flight and we have to be up again early in the morning for our much anticipated 8:30 entrance to the Palace portion of Alhambra.
We get an early start heading up the hill. Got a little lost walking and didn't want to miss the narrow window of our entrance ticket time as it was reserved a month in advance, so we caught a cab up the hill. We got there in plenty of time. Once you are in the Nasrid Palaces at your entry time, you can take as long as you want in any of the areas. An 8:30am entry time was perfect, as we got in before the crowds and my guess is, it gets more crowded as the day goes on. Our timing was great for photos and exploring, as sometimes we felt like we were the only ones in the palace. It is truly breathtaking. The architecture and detail are spectacular with carved wall, massive columns, colorful tiles, and stars cut in to the ceilings. We spent quite a while in the palaces exploring before exiting to see the other areas. Next we went out to a courtyard where stray cats roam the grounds looking for any one to feed them bits of snacks. We visited the Alcazaba fortress and climbed up towers and walls with beautiful town views. There are old remnants of the city where you can make out walls and firepits and imagine where and how people lived. Quick snack break and then off to Charles V Palace. More beautiful stone carvings, but totally different style. Renaissance structure and detail with circular open area in the middle like a mini-colosseum. There are also mosque baths to explore and gardens everywhere. We reached the Generalife and gardens and it was staring to get really crowded, as we were dodging in between endless very large tour groups. We spent over six hours there exploring the grounds. As we headed out, we were again glad we had gotten in early as it started to drizzle, with a forecast of thunderstorms later in the afternoon.
We have really lucked out on the weather, as Southern Spain can supposedly be unbearably hot, but we hit it right when a small cool front came through. We stop for a delicious meat platter lunch on the way back from all the walking around Alhambra and then head back for a food coma-induced seista, missing the rain completely. That evening, we return to Cafe Futbol to a warm welcome as the staff remembers us from the day before. We spend hours there playing our travel cribbage on the quiet plaza, drinking cokes and mango tea, and joking with the mainly Spanish-speaking staff. They give us free ham sandwiches and chips and we order more churros and chocolate and an ice cream sundae for dessert. As the close up at midnight, we say our goodnights, promise we will come back if we ever return to Granada, and get complimentary little dessert alcohol shots (we have received several of these at places and they each differ in sweetness, flavor, and strength but are always a sweet gesture).
The next day starts to heat up again. We head to the train station for a bus about an hour and a half (due to some construction of the line) and then on to our train to Ronda. It is slightly worrisome that the people at Cafe Futbol did not seem to have ever heard of Ronda. We pass lots of little farms and what appears to be lots of olive orchards (must be why they have such delicious extra virgin olive oil) and some of the whitewashed small towns. We arrive in Ronda and check in to Hotel Arunda II, our hotel. The room is dark, feels like a utility closet, and the AC leaks water. But it is clean and most of the staff is very nice(except the woman during the afternoon who checked us in). We walk around the little town where it seems everywhere is "10 minutes away." There is a festival in town celebrating a famous bullfighter from the town, Pedro Romero, who is the founder of modern day bullfighting rules. It is why there are no more hotel rooms (I had taken a guess at when the festival would be based on previous years, but the dates hadn't been announced yet when I booked the hotel at less than 40 euros a night before prices went up... which is probably we why got a sub par room). The streets are decorated and some local women and kids are dressed up in traditional Spanish dresses with flowers in their hair. There is a bridge overlooking a large gorge with whitewashed houses on the cliffs. We found a restaurant patio at a plaza near an outlook over the nearby mountains. A man sat in the plaza playing lovely guitar music and we had a pitcher of sangria and played cribbage. We decided to stay for dinner and I had yummy lamb chops and got to catch the tail end of the sunset as it went behind the mountains. We walked around the bullfighting ring, which normally has tours, but was closed for tourist due to the big bullfighting show which is to occur right after we leave. Supposedly lots of people come from all over Spain to see it.
The next morning, we wake up, planning to go hike to the bottom of the gorge and back up. But the guy at the hotel desk speaks better English than anyone at the desk previously and informs us that there will be a bullfight at 5:30pm that evening, instructing us on how to go buy tickets. We hot-foot it over to the bullfighting ring and get tickets. I have been in many countries with bullfighting and have yet to go to an event. I have never been sure I could take witnessing the violence, as an animal lover. But I have always tried to be as open as possible to new experiences while traveling, and I had wrestled with the question when planning my trip to Spain. Ronda has a long history with bullfighting and it appears ingrained in their culture. Their ring is a very small ring, seating about 3,000 people at most. It was supposedly the first ring built in the world specifically for bullfighting. Ernest Hemingway used to come to this ring, when he fell in love with the "sport." I had thought if I were to attend a bullfight, Ronda would be the best (and probably only) way I would be willing to see it. After thinking there was only the fight after we left, I thought there was no chance so I was pretty excited when we got tickets. Afterwards, we wandered around a bit more and found a man painting the spectacular view of the gorge using only oil paints and a small metal spatula. The paintings were great and Wade bought an original piece. Instead of our hike, we had lunch at a place that had yummy options for their menu del dias (menu of the day). Lunch is the big meal in Spain, and the menu del dia is a great value if you can find one that has options you want. I had a beer, a bowl of gazpacho soup starter, a large pork meal, bread, and an ice cream sundae for dessert all for 10 euros. Then it was time for a siesta, as Southern Spain is heating up again after the few cool days after the rain. That evening, we dress up and head to the bullfight. The ring is small and it is like you can feel the history in it. There is no lights, no announcements, nothing other than a small refreshment stand for drinks. The only music is played by a live orchestra band. Our seats are right next to the Presidential box, with Wade sitting next to an older Spanish woman who says she always sits in that seat and me next to an older gentleman who also seems to be a regular (neither speaking any English, but both trying to help us understand). In fact, most in the stadium appear to be regulars, saying there hellos to each other and bringing their little pads for the concrete seats. The band comes in to the ring and takes their seats up in a top few rows. Women in beautiful dresses come in and sit in the presidential box with someone important. And then with little pomp and circumstance, it starts. The outfits worn by the fighters in the ring are so ornate and beautiful. The guy who opens the gate to let the bull out is dressed in dark grey plain clothes, looking like an executioner. There is a dance to the whole thing between the fighters and the bull. There is also a whole lot of fighters strutting about, chest poofed out in their fancy outfits. Some fighters appeared very young. There is a warning before the bull is killed, as the matador asks the main person in the presidential box for permission and the crowd gets very still and quiet. When executed well, people cheer. There was one instance that it appeared the bull suffered more due to mistakes on the fighters part, and people expressed unhappiness with the performance. The last performance had the toughest bull. It put two people on the ground (they didn't appear injured, but it maybe made me a little happy to see the bull scare them good). But eventually it ended. As the final matador took his walk around the ring where people in the stands cheer and throw fans, hats, and flowers down, someone threw a live chicken. He then carried it around the ring. Wade and I laughed at this, trying to imagine the guy in the crowd holding this chicken for the past several hours. Also, they checked our bags on entry and we couldn't have the bottle caps from our cokes, being given the motion no due to fact they could be thrown? How do live chickens fit into all this?!? Both of us were glad we had the experience but agreed neither one of us wanted to go again. I do wish I could speak better Spanish so I could ask all the questions I had (how old are some of the matadors because they look like they are about 18, who that is in the presidential box, etc.) After the fights, we had a 9pm table reservation at Restaurante Pedro Romero, a famous restaurant that we had passed the previous night. The restaurant is right across the street from the stadium and is covered with bullfighting memorabilia from costumes to medals to bull heads, and old newspaper articles, posters, and photographs. I had planned on having oxtail, but their special of the evening was suckling pig, and after not getting to try it in Cuenca, we ordered it. It was seriously the best meal I can remember in a very long time. They cut the pig for you at the table. The skin was perfectly salted and crispy and the meat fell off the bone with a juice we were instructed to spoon around the meat as to not mess up the perfect skin. I am still drooling as I write about it.
The next morning, we get back on a train for a two hour ride to Cordoba. We arrive and find our fabulous hotel, Hotel González, in the maze of cobblestone streets of the old Jewish quarter, a few blocks from La Mezquita. The hotel is perfect... huge difference from our last hotel and about the same price. We walk around and find lunch (I think I was hangry at this point) and then a quick seista as it is pretty hot here in the afternoons. After our quick seista, we walk over to the nearby La Mezquita. The mosque-turned cathedral is full of red and white columns (that remind me of candy canes), religious artwork of which its significance is lost on me, as well as lots of detailing from columns to ceiling. We wandered town and check out the Calleja de las Flores, a small alley lined with blue flower pots. And for dinner, we found a place on the internet called Taberna Gongora that was suppose to have really good, cheap tapas. We walked through a modern shopping district there to get an early table, as it supposedly fills up fast. There decor revolves around hunting and their menu seems full of comfort food. We ordered venison meatballs in gravy, oxtail stew, and wild boar in tomato sauce. All were fabulous and the restaurant was decorated in a Spanish hunting motif. Wandering back to our hotel, we found the restaurant patio our big hotel windows opened to had a live flamenco performance, which we watched from the room.
The next morning, we got up and had our coffees. We took a walk along the Roman bridge across the river, taking in the views and enjoying watching the birds and fish (pretty sure I also saw some sort of river otter). We had lunch and then hopped on the train again, heading to Seville. This will be our last and final stop before flying back to Barcelona and then home on Wednesday.
See you soon!
Love,
Betsy
Traveling is part of me and helps me learn more about myself. As a way to remind myself to travel more and forget less, I set up this Travel Notes blog. While not detailed travel reports, these are email notes recapping my mostly solo adventures (typos and grammatical errors included-- most were typed on my phone). I send them to friends and family along the trip, but archive them here with photos to share, once I return home.
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