What do Washington Irving, Moors, and Hippies have in common?

On such heavenly nights I would sit for hours at my window inhaling the sweetness of the garden, and musing on the checkered fortunes of those whose history was dimly shadowed out in the elegant memorials around. - Washington Irving, "The Alhambra by Moonlight."

One of the most magical places I've ever been: Granada.  Even saying the name in my head makes it sound like a red-ripe fruit, waiting to burst open like a grenade (or granadilla (grenadine), my favorite fruit).  Ever since I started watching Pedro Almodovar's films in college, I've wanted to go to the Spain of gitanos (gypsies), flamenco, poetry, guitars, castles, and orange trees.  Imagine my surprise when I got to Barcelona and there was none of that.  Naively, I thought that throughout all of Spain, there would be impromptu flamenco dancing in public squares and gypsies hanging out in corners singing and playing the guitar.  I finally understood how so many people all over the world view Americans as belonging to one stereotypical culture (for the majority of Europeans we have met, it is that of the silly, fat, white, dumb, too-nice tourist).  I lumped all Spaniards into one stereotypical category based on a few films.

This is what I thought would be going on in Spain.  from www.revistalaflamenca.com

Anyhow, Billy and I had planned that at the end of our stay in Barcelona, we would go to Andalucia (the southern province of Spain) and spend a month there, relaxing and soaking up the completely different culture.  We looked through several AirBnb listings in several cities and found one in Granada that we absolutely loved and could afford.  Plus, it was right in the middle of the Albaicin, the old town, and it had views of the Alhambra.  So we made the reservation and eagerly awaited May 2.

Leaving Barcelona was pretty difficult.  Having had a rough start to our stay (I was completely disillusioned with what it would be like, how the people would be), I ended up falling in love with the capitol city of Catalunya and its people.

Our great friend Maribel.  She was the one who rented us the apartment for the 4 months we were in Barcelona.

Desmond was completely comfortable walking up and down the streets and, from certain points, could even navigate back to the apartment.  As far as his little mind is concerned, when we ask him where he's from, he says Barcelona.  Although he remembers living in St. Louis and remembers our neighbors and friends, he never says that he lived there.  It's as if we visited there briefly, one time, but that he had always lived in Barcelona.

At one of his favorite parks in Barcelona.  He calls it the Nina park because  he played, just once, with this little girl.  All they did was chase pigeons the whole time.  

We tried to make the transition to Granada a smooth one for Des by explaining to him that for our family, home is not an apartment or a city or a house.  Home is wherever Mami, Daddy, and Des are together.  We understand  and take into account a child's need for stability and consistency and recognize that our lifestyle, as nomadic as it is, doesn't necessarily provide a consistent bed or house or playground.  But, we are his constant: we are both lucky enough to be able to work from home and we both only work a few hours a day so that we can spend all of our time with him.  Some people have wondered and have even asked us if we feel that he is missing out on a "normal" childhood because we are moving around so much (saying things like, "don't you feel bad that Des doesn't go to preschool/doesn't have friends/doesn't have his very own bed/doesn't have this-or-that toy?")  And yes, a little part of me feels bad that he won't get to experience that anytime soon and that's something that Billy and I need to keep in mind when discussing our future (especially when the need for friends and stability becomes more pronounced in the pre-teen/teen years), BUT I want to throw the same question back at the people who ask me these things because they assume that having a home and living full-time in a neighborhood with neighborhood kids and friendships and routine, etc, is better....what I want to say is, don't you feel bad that your son/daughter doesn't get to eat real goulash/learn new Thai words/sleep in a treehouse in Colombia/communicate with all sorts of children, of different ages and backgrounds and cultures, in a playground using only sign and body language?  But I wouldn't, because I don't think our experience is anymore valid than those who choose to have more traditional experiences.  Hopefully, as Des grows up in this lifestyle, he will be able to understand why we chose to live like this and why other people choose instead to stay put somewhere.  Our hope is that by the time we decide to stop moving and traveling, he will view it as a normal part of his life because he will not have known any other way.

Ok..anyway, Granada.  There are no direct flights to Granada from Barcelona, so we flew into Sevilla first and decided to stay a few days to check out the city.

The Catedral de Sevilla, right next to the Alcazar, which we didn't go into because 1) it was so hot outside and we didn't want to wait in line and 2) because the tickets were like 12 bucks for Billy and me and we're on a tight budget, yo.  We can't afford fancy tickets like that. 

As far as toddler/preschooler age transportation goes, Des will do a lot of walking...for a toddler/preschooler.  Which means that he will tire out after 5 or 10 minutes of walking and want to be picked up and held.  For the last 5 months, he has freaked out whenever we tried to put him in the Ergo, hence the reason why I would bring our UppaBaby G-Lite stroller (GREAT for traveling.  It's so lightweight and folds up so easily and when it does fold up, it stands by itself and has a carrying strap).  

It is HOT in Southern Spain.

So many parks in Southern Spain (well, in Sevilla and Granada) have water fountains where it's OK that kids play in it and get wet.  Best part of Desmond's day...

We stayed on the other side of the Guadalquivir River, in a part of Sevilla called Triana.  It is such a cute little neighborhood that used to populated mostly by gypsies.  

Triana by night.

I used to be fascinated by the Inquisition in HS.  Must have been the guilt I felt as a Catholic.  

 Sevilla is the capitol of Andalucia.  It's beautiful and very European.  It was where I fell in love with a dish called Salmorejo: a creamier version of Gazpacho that they serve with chopped boiled egg on top and sometimes with serrano ham.  It was a nice visit but I wasn't overly impressed.

Granada was a different story altogether.  There was so much mystery, so much history (jeez...that's the cheesiest sentence I've ever written.)  I loved how I felt as if I were in a movie every single time I stepped out of the apartment.  And every single day, without fail, I would step out into our balcony and look at the Alhambra up on the hill and think, holy shit.  We really live here.  For a month!  We really are just living here.

Typical Andalusian/Granadan houses: whitewashed and tiled-roofed.

This view took my breath away.  Every single time.

View of the Albaicin.  

View of the Alhambra, the Albaicin, and the rest of Granada from one of our hikes.

The Albaicin was built as near as possible to the Alhambra (which used to be the Sultan's castle and fortress until 1492, when King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella drove Muhammad XII and the rest of the Moors from Granada). The Albaicin was where the non-royalty Moors lived, the commoners.  The streets are very narrow and some are paved with intricate designs of pebbles.  Most of the buildings are white with red-tiled roofs.  A few decades ago, before the area became a UNESCO world heritage site, it was dirty and populated mostly by Roma and homeless.  Now, it's a top tourist destination and the homeless and Roma have been pushed outward towards Sacromonte (the birthplace of Flamenco).

As you can imagine, pushing a kid in a stroller on these streets and sidewalks was a nightmare.  Des walked a LOT and rode on Bill's shoulders a LOT in Granada.

This is the beginning of a part of Granada called El Sacromonte.  This area is populated with cave houses (some of which are fully functioning BnBs and others which are more like this...

Can you imagine living in a cave?  No running water, no heat, no electricity?  This particular area of Sacromonte is populated mostly by hippies.  There are SO many hippies in Granada.  Each one of them has a dog, too, as if part of their dress code.  

This is an old cave that has been converted into a bar/restaurant.

At night, the caves light up with impromptu flamenco performances and music.  They all start way  too late for us, between 10 and midnight usually, so I didn't see as many flamenco performances as I would've liked.

And of course, we couldn't leave Granada without having seen the Alhambra.  It's right at our doorstep.  Even though the tickets were expensive (we had to buy them online weeks ahead of time), it was worth it for us.  The Alhambra combines my love of Spain and my love of Moorish culture, so we had to do it.  And it is so worth it.  Even thought Desmond probably won't remember the big castle across from our apartment, we hope that by showing him these pictures over and over again, he will remember those "scenes" as if he really does remember them and not just the pictures.  Know what I mean?  (FWIW, each Sunday we upload all of the pictures we took that week and we sit down after dinner and look through them and talk about what happened, what we did, who we met, and what we ate so that Desmond can understand a bit better his surroundings and our life).

Waiting for entrance to the Nasrid Palace.

These windows...If only I had a real house...

Acting like royalty.

Acting like goofs.

There are so many gardens around the Alhambra.  Sadly, we didn't have time to see them all.

Since water is so scarce in Southern Spain (very dry climate), the Moors considered water to be  the purest symbol of life.  The Moorish Caliph wanted to make sure that water was displayed as much as possible in the palace.

In Islam, the decoration of most holy places and homes don't include pictures (unlike Catholics, who have pictures of every saint, Jesus, and Mary EVERYWHERE).  So, the Muslims decorate with geometric shapes.

Des jumping over the "rivers."

The view of our street from the Alhambra.

My favorite view of all in Granada: the dusk view of the Generalife building from our kitchen window.   Every night, I would start cooking dinner and look out the window and be reminded that my life is so beautiful, no matter how much I complained or worried or lost my temper with des (and Bill!).  This view always helped me be able to take a deep breath, stop, and be so grateful that we are leading our lives the way we want to lead them.

The view of our street from our balcony on one of our last days there.

We were lucky to have spent almost half a year in such a beautiful country.  We are lucky to take with us memories of the food, the language, and the people.  And we're off to the next leg of our journey...Szia, Budapest!