Memories of Granada, Spain
Guest Post by Georgina Neumann
Magical land by any standards.
I had already been told that Granada was the cradle of flamenco, along with Seville and Jerez de la Frontera before I left Buenos Aires, my hometown, where I projected every step of my dream journey through Andalusia.
At that time I was studying singing and I was passionate about the art of flamenco. That’s why I decided to nourish myself with its roots and discover what that mystery was that enveloped all the exponents of that culture.
Photo Credit: Georgina Neumann
Arriving in Granada, Spain
I left from Malaga, a high class, glamorous and cosmopolitan city, where I spent a week, and from which I made a base to go to several of the white villages of the Costa del Sol.
I took the morning bus so that the whole day would not escape me.
I arrived one hot June morning and the first thing I did was to locate the hostel I had booked, like the rest, 6 months in advance (this is how you organize a journey of almost a month through the first world).
I got off the bus that had transferred me from the bus station to downtown, with my suitcase in hand and a couple of gift bags that I had missed, so hyper-charged I walked as I could to that address I had on a paper that I had printed at work forming a kind of booklet with each of the specifications of the tour, hotels, and places of interest to visit. That’s how I usually prepare myself to know each new place in-depth, beyond allowing myself to improvise and surprise myself while walking.
The initial section was not too big since I hit the Antares Pension exactly one block away, which was located a few steps from the Albaicín, an old Arab quarter declared World Heritage. But I would like to give details of this marvel later on.
I left my things in the room, changed my clothes and went out again to undertake that adventure that I knew would not disappoint me, even though most of the time we are used to expectation being frustrated in the face of reality. Well, in my case it wasn’t like that, but on the contrary. I would go so far as to say that it far exceeded my expectations.
And since I had that feeling beforehand, call it intuition, I didn’t want to waste a minute of my time on trivialities, so I set out, map in my bag, to march towards the Puerta Real de Granada, the first point known as a central and modern area with its squares, bars, and restaurants around it. Here, a short distance away is also the royal chapel with the remains of the Catholic Kings.
I found the story touching and engaging, at every step. I couldn’t help but be amazed at the mixture of styles that coexisted in the same space.
Suddenly, and already on the way to the next destination, I became static. Before me stood the Alcaicería flea market, full of color, little shops with handicrafts to buy as souvenirs and hanging lamps.
All decorated in a very striking way. Arab reminiscences (in fact its name comes from that language and has to do with the fact that it was founded in the 14th century next to the Great Mosque in the time of Muhammad). It was so beautiful that I stayed about half an hour watching each of its businesses.
Then I went to the Plaza Isabel la Catolica, which, it should be noted, has a landmark monument dedicated to the Queen and Christopher Columbus.
From there I continued to the Plaza Nueva- the oldest square in Granada-from where I was told that the Alhambra could