The drive in was breathtaking. The Sierra Nevada mountain range rippled from the earth like sets of large, muscular shoulders supporting weight – while the lesser hills curved sensuously below, dotted and draped as they were with orchards like thighs wrapped in fishnet stockings. And between the hills and mountains lay vast and sweeping plains – stretching for miles around – and from an elevation you might think the valley was paved, cobbled with the clay tile rooftops of the houses below.
And Granada itself – what a place of poetry and prose. It’s no wonder that Washington Irving found inspiration here – it’s no wonder that Lorca found within its gardens the ink for his pen. There are the more industrial, residential areas, but – having walked most of the city; having seen the stark difference between the Muslim, Christian, and Jewish quarters divided now by rivers of tire and metal – I was struck by how well these areas blended, and if they were less beautiful, how little I cared.
It may be the artistic contrast between the lush and vibrant foliage and the whitewashed walls and the earthen tile roofs. Or it may be the charming, narrow alleys and the winding roads that so appeal to me. Or it may just be the architecture – the mixture of Moorish and Muslim design – something that is, in my mind, so singular and unique.
And if Granada is where Beauty makes her annual pilgrimage, then the Alhambra is the temple in which she prays. The endlessly intricate wall carvings, the poetry inscribed in stunning layer upon layer, the amazing arches and beautifully designed and populated gardens and courtyards. And the views onto Granada from above – nothing quite compares.
These pictures hardly do any of it justice – but hopefully they are enough to inspire a trip, at some point, to Granada.
2 comments:
I don't think I've seen a picture yet from your travels that don't inspire a trip. Where do I sign up?
nice pictures.
mom
Post a Comment