Granada…

I don´t have much time left in this Internet café, so I´ll try and type this as fast as I can. Granada. The name of this city is actually the Spanish word for pomegranate, and it´s evident everywhere … from the little posts lining the street, to some of the designs on the plates being sold in the small shops along the street.

I can´t believe how fast it´s gone.

I can you hear you say, get to the point, what did you do while you were here?

Truthfully, again, not as much as I´d hoped – and it was partially heat-related – but I got the highlights. I walked up into the Albaicín district, which was the old Arab area. Very winding, and it´s a bit of a hike upwards. I took a bus tour to see some of the other parts, both old and new. (This was only because after missing the walking tour two mornings in a row, this was the only other way to see the city.)

Today, I saw the Alhambra, the spectacular Moor palace which pretty much overlooks most of Granada city. I know I didn´t do it justice by just giving it – and the splendid Generalife gardens – only about three hours or so. But what I did see was insane. The architecture. The design. The pools of water. The landscaping. The views from just about every angle. Even if it doesn´t change your life, as some people say, it will leave some sort of impression.

After that, I hiked up the other side to the Mirador de San Nicolàs, where you can get the best view of the Alhambra, and the town below. This took me three consecutive tries on the three days I was here to find it. But find it I did. Thank God. I was getting tired of making the hike upwards. But it was worth it.

I also met two people, but not of my own doing. The first one was this guy named Manolo (think like Blahniks, the shoes), whom I met while out alone for tapas last night. He was nice enough. Not much to look at, and smoked like most people seem to do here in Spain, but he was all right. He was passing through Granada on his way to Almerià to see his dad. He is a musician, I think. Loves jazz. He gave me a CD of his and asked me to let him know what I thought of it. I lied and said I had to meet someone elsewhere, so I made my escape.

Today, while looking in shops for something to buy, I met this other man, Eugene. Older, originally from Switzerland, but lives here now. He took me to a local tavern for a drink and a small plate of something to eat, and some conversation. He´s a bit of a traveller himself, and said he had Canada on his list of places to visit. I kind of had my guard up as well at this time. But to his credit, he did point out the best way up to the Alhambra. He said I should call him later afterwards if I was free. I´ll just e-mail him back in Canada to thank him for his kindness instead.

So, here I am, my last night in the Pomegranate City, in an Internet café. Yes, I´m sad. But it´s been the first time since Barcelona that I have been completely by myself. No bumping into fellow travellers (´less you count Manolo). But it´s been not too bad. When I´m not walking around, I´m in my room sleeping off the heat. When I´m not doing that, I´m out at a restaurant by myself reading a book. It can be lonely (hence why I´m e-mailing or Facebooking daily), but that´s part of the journey, right?

Tomorrow, it´s up to Seville, where the heat will be even more intense, and there will be more people to meet. (Man, I hope I meet some attractive people my age when I get to Seville…)

And the best part? There will be a washer and dryer calling my name. My clothes stiiiink.

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