Sacromonte, holy indeed

Sacromonte, the Sacred Mountain, looms over Granada and is home to an ancient abbey (and even more ancient caves). From the center of Granada one can walk up to the abbey, but for our first visit and very educational tour, we took a city bus. Naturally, as we ascended the mountain, the roads became narrow switchbacks, to the great joy of my fellow American bus riders. Sure, the bus was crammed a little past full capacity and we slid often on the gravel roads, but hey, we made it up.

We made this trek on Sunday, one of the first non-rainy days in Granada. Immediately after disembarking from our dear bus, we all stopped short, which caused problems all around. 1. At least ten more people needed to free themselves from the bus, including Spaniard (non-tourists, poor souls) passengers. 2. We also managed to block the rest of the road, and cars were trying to book it back down the mountain. Oops. Unfortunately, a typical American moment, to the world’s frustration. Anyways, why the sudden stop? The view, quite naturally! From Sacromonte, one could easily see the idyllic snow-capped mountains of the Sierra Nevada. In the valleys leading up to Sacromonte, small houses and neatly kept plots of land closely followed a few rivers. To the right, on the other hand (pun moderately intended), was the Alhambra palace, a massive fortress situated atop one of the mountains by Granada. This palace is the most frequently visited site in Spain. I cannot seem to remember the exact number of people who visit it each day, but it is certainly an exhausting number. Past the Alhambra, was Granada, and further right, the Arab neighborhood of the Albayzin, which originates in Granada and crawls up the mountain of Sacromonte. In any event, the view was overwhelming and spectacular and basically a painting.

Finally, our guides successfully corralled us all up into the grounds of the abbey. Orange walls with dirty bases comprised the abbey along with roofs of typical Mediterranean-style tile. Windows with decorative wrought iron balconies completed the almost sanitarium-esque look that the entrance took on. The abbey, which had turrets topped with stone crosses, too, could not have been more beautiful and eerie. Dilapidated but sacred.

Upon entering, though, the abbey became a well-kept, bright courtyard, complete with intricate pebble mosaic floors and a grand fountain. Orange trees, which can be found most anywhere, encircled (ensquared, if it were a word, would be so much more fitting) the courtyard, along with the occasional kumquat plant (they looked almost ready for harvesting!). Also, in the covered portion of the courtyard rested a parade float, adorned in dark purple velour and topped with the crucifix. Apparently, Granada has one of the larger Easter celebrations; during Holy Week leading up to Easter, processions carry the cross up Sacromonte, during both the day and night. The morning before our tour of the abbey, preparations and rehearsals had begun for the Holy Week festivities.

Inside the abbey, we were educated on the property’s religious and cultural history (all in Spanish). Most interestingly, we visited the caves that lie underneath the abbey. The mountains surrounding Granada are famous for their caves, as people today still inhabit them (and even rent them out for tourists! Hmm…). The caves of Sacromonte, though, hold alters and rooms in which to worship or seek refuge.

Returning to Granada from the abbey was just as lovely as our first views from Sacromonte. Instead of the bus, we walked back down; the sun was in the process of setting behind the Alhambra palace. Our journey took us through the Albayzin neighborhood, which is built into Sacromonte (some of the homes are partially caves). Absolutely every building is painted white, and the feel of the Middle East truly pervades the streets. Tea shops, lanterns, and colorful textiles slowly consume the streets as one nears the base of the mountain. I cannot wait to spend more time in this neighborhood, with its rich Arab culture and Moorish architecture. Thus is my favorite aspect of Granada so far, easily. The combination of Middle Eastern and European (both medieval and modern) is perfect – the many eras and cultures flow together seamlessly.

Ronda

Good afternoon/morning/evening, depending on your location! Yesterday, Saturday, we went on a day-long excursion to a most spectacular city, Ronda. Located just two hours west of Granada, Ronda is an ancient city built atop a steep mountain, which is divided up by vegetation-covered gorges; light bluish-green water flows through these massive crevices. Connecting the various sectors of Ronda are towering stone bridges, which Ronda is the known for more than anything else. The bridges are in every sense breathtaking. The light-colored stone is perfect in contrast with the vibrant plants that cascade down the gorges. The variety of plants, too, was equally impressive. Fir trees lined the top of the gorge, intermixed with palm trees and small shrubbery. Moss, vines, and cacti consumed the gorge itself. My descriptions certainly cannot come close to explaining this magnificent place, so take a look at a few pictures (which also fail to do Ronda the justice it deserves... but this will have to suffice).

Bridge! Big bridge!



The city of Ronda was a mix of modern, classic Europe, and ancient times. In many of the city plazas, frozen yogurt shops could be spotted, while just outside cobblestone roads surrounded large metal fountains. The roads were even narrower than in Granada, and they cut up and down the sides of the mountain. Homes, palaces, and churches were built on the mountain's edges -- cliff-dwelling at it's finest. From these dwellings the view was beautiful (obviously). Surrounding Ronda is countryside, rivers, and mountains in the distance. The land was plowed and covered in short grass or olive trees. Small cottages were scattered about, usually beside the rivers flowing from Ronda. The surrounding mountains were quite similar to Ronda's, as the rocks were lightly colored and small notches of caves could be spotted, after staring for a good bit, of course.



Ronda, like the entire Andalucía region of Spain, was once ruled by Arabs, greatly influencing the architecture and culture. In Granada, many of today's churches are actually ancient mosques with a bell tower installed on top. In Ronda, remnants of the Arab conquest were evident in the small palaces (now museums), as the walls are covered in mosaic tiles, the courtyards have tall arches and columns, and doorways are curved with a point at the top. Also, on the edge of the mountain Ronda houses several Arab baths, which are made of dark stone and have small decorative stars cut out of the ceiling. Each bath had several rooms, one for steaming, one for relaxing at a medium temperature, and one for cooling off.

 

In addition to the bridges, Ronda is extremely well-known for its bull ring. Huge, round, and painted all white, the exterior definitely does not give any indication as to the majesty of its contents. Inside, the ring is massive and covered in orange sand. Several tiers of seats encompass the ring. Each bleacher has seat number painted on in a decorative fashion (each number is within a blue and red square). The bleachers are supported by Moorish columns, too, and painted white. Picture time!

 

After our tour, we had free time to just wander about. It's hard to get lost in Ronda -- if all else fails, just walk up, and eventually you will hit the main square and bull ring. For lunch, my group decided to forego real food and instead splurge on churros con chocolate, which are as delicious as the sound. The churros here are simply thin rings of fried dough which diners then dip in cups of warm, melted chocolate. Yummy indeed.

 

The bus trip across the countryside back to Granada is beautiful, and looks almost like pictures U have seen of Ireland. This trip really took it out of me, so I slept most of the way back. I did manage to wake up in time to see the moon (which looked just about full) rising above a stone-covered mountain. The moon was yellow, and the craters were exceptionally visible. Beautiful.

Arrival... and all preceding events

Buenos tardes from Granada! This report is brought to you via a very sleepy Rachel, so a little patience on the reader's behalf might be required. She currently sits bundled up in sweatshirts, gloves, and thick socks, all the while still under her bed's blankets. Essentially, night has successfully fallen, and Rachel is happily combating the frigid indoor temperatures with a good 'ole fashioned cocoon.

After some fairly lengthy layovers, airport explorations (Chicago O'Hare has a lovely indoor, vertical botanical garden), new acquaintances, and micro-naps during flights, Granada was finally reached. A beautiful moment indeed, and not just from the relief of the long-anticipated arrival. As we drove out from the airport, one was immediately presented with a full and oh so complete rainbow. Easily, we could see the points where the colors touched down among the sparse countryside vegetation. Of course, we eventually drove directly underneath said rainbow to reach our new homes. I'll gladly take that as a good sign.

Though the majority of my exposure to Granada thus far is sights seen from car windows, I can say without hesitation that this city is beautiful. Granted, rain and mistiness greeted us, but such conditions only made for even more loveliness. Our residencia, or dorm, is located in the city's center, a busy downtown locale complete with incredibly narrow, stone-laden streets. The wet conditions made for glistening streets and an extra bit of bustle -- people darted from one storefront to the next, hurrying about. The stores, particularly the clothing boutiques, are quite modern, which definitely fits with the population's clear concern for fine apparel. I have yet to see someone not dressed in their finest; chic and clean-cut is the clear trend, but it seems that if the ensemble is fashion-forward, it's acceptable. Granada is on the smaller end, size-wise, but it truly still maintains the larger city feel in the way its people dress and maneuver about.

As for my living arrangements, my roommate and I are up on the fourth floor of the residenica. Our room is comfortable, spacious, and has windows looking out into corridors filled with clotheslines. Our room is off of a decently sized, mirror and stained glass surrounded kitchen, which will no doubt prove to be extra Spanish practice, as the students love hanging out there (smoking, laughing, and singing), and all can be easily heard in our room. Not a problem, though! So far I am enjoying hearing the manner in which they interact. Life in the residencia is looking to be beautiful -- a good mix of Spanish and international students, old wooden doors within the building, and delicious food in the dining room. Lunch was being served when we arrived, to our stomachs' delight. Potato and bean soup, pork kabobs, some sort of pico de gallo, and custard were on today's menu. Lunch is their biggest meal of the day, eaten during the daily siesta (between 2 and 5 pm). Dinner is smaller and commences around 9 pm. The servers in the dining room, just like the Spanish students, are extremely patient and so eager to help out us delirious Americans. The language is far easier to understand than I anticipated, too, as the pace is slower. The notorious Spanish accent, though, will certainly take some getting used to.

In any event, day one of Espana has been nothing short of lovely. Tomorrow will be filled with venturing about the city. Tourist time. My apologies once more for the scattered nature of this report. Those to come will hopefully be slightly less disjointed (though this I cannot completely guarantee...).

Take care, amigos!

[Lastly, fact of the day: while waiting for my flight from Chicago to Madrid, I met a British gentleman who has lived in Spain for upwards twelve years. During our very entertaining conversation, he advised me never to accept an offer to go "olive picking." Apparently, one does not actually "pick" olives, but instead violently beats the olive tree until all olives are on the ground. An exhausting process, said this man, Stefan, and one tree will likely do in an average individual. "Picking" olives does not and will not exist. Noted.]