Streets, Smells, and a Sense of Humor

What do I remember the most about Granada?

The smells. The rain. The streets.

The smells.

When we first got off the bus and headed to our hostel (which, oddly enough, we found without getting horribly lost), we walked up a side street lined with vendors and various stores selling foreign goods, like lamps from Morocco and Arabic tea. The air hung with the thick scent of incense floating over leather. I will always associate that musky, deep smell with the streets of Granada. 

       Especially since later that day, we relaxed with an evening of traditional Arabic baths. The atmosphere of an Arabic bath is one of complete immersion and relaxation. You seriously have to be a crazy person not to be relaxed in that environment.

       The air in the bathhouse was heavy with incense and the deep notes of the oil used for massages. We sipped Moorish tea and sucked on sweet candy, the heat from the baths and humidity of the room sinking into our bodies, every sensation alert. It was such a blessing to be able to unwind from the busy days of traveling; for the first time in weeks my mind was clear. I don't even like tea. Or incense, for that matter.

But in Granada, those things made sense. 

The rain and the streets.

The reason we even felt the need for Arabic baths was because our entire first afternoon in Granada was spent wandering in torrential downpours. We spent hours lost in the Albacin neighborhood, desperately asking anyone we could find for help. If they were a local, all they told us was "¡Arriba!" (up) or "¡Abajo!" (down), depending on our current location. 

        The Albacin is a quite hilly area, and our sole reason for being up there in the first place was to get a view of the Alhambra at the Mirador de San Nicolas. We only ran into problems when we tried to get back down by way of the Paseo de los Tristes, or the Walk of the Sad. Esther and I were not communicating well and both asking how to get to different places...it is a miracle we made it out at all. In our desperation, we asked some other tourists (who happened to be from other places in Spain) if we could follow them out. All went well until they stopped to ask for directions too, and then all of us were lost together. That just goes to show you how confusing this neighborhood was. Even the native Spanish speakers were lost, never mind two American girls who have terrible inner GPS's.

But we did, in fact, escape from the maze that was the Albacin and made our way down Paseo de los Tristes. I do not need to explain my joy at having found our destination. 

This photo says it all:

Yup. There I am, beyond thrilled to have found this very pretty street, even in the rain. One thing I have learned from study abroad is the most important thing to take with you when traveling is a sense of humor.

P.S.: That's the Alhambra behind me! A beautiful palace and fortress, the most visited site in all of Spain. 

P.P.S: If you look closely at this picture, you can see that the pockets of my jeans are much lighter than the rest of my pants. That's because my sweatshirt was covering them during the rain. Ha! I was soaked!