Granada, Spain

It's scary to think how travelling is like dating. You try not to have expectations, but you do. So you set them a bit lower than usual because then you'll be pleasantly surprised by everything. You went with the flow but ended up in circles. You tried the opposite, some structure, but it left you feeling equally neurotic. In short, it's all a crapshoot. What to do? Lately, I'm learning that action and less thought paves direction: the more you date the easier it is to navigate through uncertainty. And the same goes for travelling. Eventually, you'll feel like a traveller and not a tourist.

I don't know when I'll feel like a traveller. By the time I landed in Granada however, I definitely didn't feel like a tourist. In two days I had dealt with two airline strikes, a missed connection, an echoing terminal (my flight was the last to arrive), and language barriers at a major international airport. I guess some things from high school, spanish, history, how to fall asleep at a cramped desk which has similar proportions to a coach seat, aren't a complete waste.

All of this could have nulled my expectations of Granada or romanticized it even more. Instead, something else happened during my bus ride from the airport to the city. I sighed. Then, I looked at my jacket and was grateful I had brought it because it was cooler than forecasted. That insignificant thought began a chain of thanks and my ride sappily turned into a trip down memory lane. When we arrived, I was simply grateful for being there. And maybe that's why it's exactly how I had imagined it to be at 15 when my high school Spanish teacher would retell her days in Granada.

Besides her stories, I'll never forget her lavish use of roja. So in my mind, Granada was, well, red. I knew it wasn't, yet I couldn't envision it any other way and still can't. I thought about describing all the numerous ways Granada is red, but hopefully, you can sense it from the pictures below. One shade, in particular, was difficult to capture. At a certain hour on a clear day, the city is awash in this gorgeous mix of terracotta and crimson. I assume it's due to sunlight being refracted (<-- high school math geek alert) from the Sierra Nevada mountains. You have to visit to see it. At the very least, to realize Granada wouldn't be roja without her varied experiences. Just like us.

Length of Stay

One week

Docking Index 

       

8 anchors. Originally lowered nine thanks to the resounding words of an American expatriate, "I miss the States. But I love it here." Then hoisted one to eight when I learned of Andalucia's unemployment rate -- 37%. At least I won't starve. Granada is one of the last few cities that offers free tapas.