Granada

Mention Granada and everyone will ask about the Alhambra and the Generalife. The Alhambra is a collection of elegant palaces, squares and gardens contained in one large complex that sits on a prominent hill, overlooking today’s modern city. The Generalife is a series of landscaped gardens sitting opposite the Alhambra on a neighbouring hillside. Alhambra has three prominent venues; Alcazaba, the remains of Moor’s fort; Palacios Nazaríes, a series of Moor palace buildings constructed in classic Islamic forms; and finally a series of Catholic era sites including a church and the 17th Century Carlos V Palace.


So much of Andalucía’s colourful history is tied up in this attraction. The Moors (Muslium invaders from North Africa) concentrated their power in Granada, before finally making their last stand here in 1491. The Moors most famous emirate, the Nasrid, ruled from the buildings of the Alhambra for 250 years. Many of the site’s most widely reproduced images depict buildings from this era.


The Catholic conquerors who swept the Moors from power then set up court within Alhambra. Today, Isabel and Fernando, are commonly known as the Royal Catholics, or Catholic Monarchs. Within months of retaking Granada for the Christian world, Isabel agreed to fund Christopher Columbus and his search for a new trade route to India. Within a generation, Spain was the centre one of the largest and wealthiest empires the world had ever seen.


Garry and I spent most of Saturday afternoon touring the Alhambra and Generalife. The buildings were genuinely fascinating, with enduring visual moments coming thick and fast each time we rounded another corner. However, given that we’d seen the grand palaces and mosques of the Ottoman’s in Istanbul, some of the ‘wow’ factor was ultimately lost on us. Without this comparison I’m sure the overall impression would have been far more overwhelming. Our tour was also handicapped by intermittent cloud. The buildings really did seem to come alive every time the sun appeared, as did the many impressive gardens.


Beyond the Alhambra, Garry and I also took time to visit Granada’s others popular attractions. We locked in the three main ‘venues’ including a leisurely wander through the city’s old quarters, or Albayzin; the city’s truly astonishing Cathedral and the Capilla Real, which is essentially a mausoleum for Isabel, Fernando and their extended family.


I loved the morning we spent in the Albayzin where our steady hill climbing was eventually rewarded with a stunning view of the Alhambra from Mirador San Nicolas, a bustling cobblestone viewing platform. We also stopped for a beer and tapas, that cost us the grand total of four euros. Real bargains can still be found in Europe! We later finished our tour of the area with a leisurely lunch in a traditional Arabian tea house we discovered in a narrow laneway.


The Capilla Real and neighbouring Cathedral were truly grand buildings. The scale alone is awe-inspiring, while the decoration and architecture are classic Catholic grandeur made large. We were also spoilt by the rare opportunity to see the city’s Semana Santa pasos floats on display in the Cathedral’s cavernous interior. As for the Capilla Real, the main altar is a towering masterpiece of sculpture, gold paint and ornamentation. The wealth of the Spanish empire is clearly on display.


Finally, I cannot talk about our time in Granada without mentioning our hotel. We splashed out and booked ourselves into the Alhambra Palace Hotel. This mock Moor venue is painted in a terracotta shade and sits on the edge of prominent hill. It offers an unobstructed view across the city and on toward the snow-capped Sierra Nevada. We were given a large room with a balcony overlooking all of these highlights. Every morning I woke and marveled at view and our luck in securing this room. Without a doubt the entire stay was pure luxury and made for a truly memorable experience.

Souless Costa del Sol

We finished our Andalucían adventures in Malaga. On our final night in Spain we booked ourselves into a beachside hotel just so we could cross off our list, “a package tour experience on the Costa del Sol.” Our hotel booking included book dinner and breakfast. It was also the cheapest accommodation we’d booked on the entire trip. 24 hours there was more than enough.


Our room was small, but clean. The hotel restaurant was a classic package tour experience; noisy children, overweight chavs and old ladies in sequins queuing for a bland starch-laden buffet. Even the beachside vista was pure package tour. Each hotel has its own sun-baking zone on the beach where row after row of sun-loungers resolutely stand vigil over the Mediterranean. Only the lagoon pool came close to matching its brochure photo. Souless is the only word I can find to describe the entire experience.


Needless to say, aside from a couple of boardwalk strolls, we kept well away from the beach. Instead we spent our last day wandering the streets of old Malaga, exploring its meretriciously restored Moorish castle and its equally majestic Cathedral. Both offered highlights.


The castle has its own water features similar to that of the Alhambra, but on a more modest scale. The Cathedral soars skyward with a dramatic bell tower, which seems perfectly normal, until you notice the foundations for a second tower directly opposite. Malaga’s cathedral has sat unfinished for more than two hundred years, leaving a distinctly lop-sided profile that never quite makes onto postcards displayed nearby.

I’d loved this final quirky surprise - almost as much as our last-minute tour of the airport's industrial zone. As the clock began counting down for our flight's departure we searched vainly for the rental car company's depot. Just as we began to despair, the remote site came into view. We paid our bill and caught a shuttle bus to terminal, reaching the check-in counter minutes before it closed.

Pueblos Blancos

On Monday afternoon we took a leisurely drive through the mountains from Ronda to Malaga. We chose a scenic route that winds its way to the coast through half a dozen Pueblos Blancos. This term literally translates as white villages; which is exactly what they are. Each village consists of white-washed dwellings, generally built on a steep hillside or the edge or a dramatic chasm. The overall effect is pure postcard material.


Each Pueblos Blancos was more scenic than the last. We stopped at one strategic lookout offering a bird's eye view of the deep Guadiaro and Genal valleys. From our vantage point we could see at least six separate, tiny white blobs on the surrounding hillside; each another white-washed village.

Then, just when you think the Pueblos Blancos can’t get any more picturesque, Gaucin comes into view. The village itself has a unique sense of symmetry, crowned by a 13th century ruined castle on local rock outcrop. The effect is truly dramatic. The photo below barely does it justice.


Gaucin has a population of only 2000 and is perched 626 metres above sea level. Like so much of Andalucia, it has had a fascinating, if tumultuous history. Derived from the Arab word, "guazan" (strong rock), the village is perched on the crest of the Sierra del Hacho, and due to its key strategic position was once a major Roman settlement.


Its magnificent castle, Castillo del Aguila (Eagle's Castle) dates from this era and was later expanded by the Arabs into a fortress. Every one of the villages in this area has its own long and colourful history. At times their story is almost as captivating as their white-washed profiles. This is one scenic drive I’d happily take again and again.


Our first Pueblos Blancos encounter actually occured the day we arrived in Spain. Rather than take the main freeway from Malaga to Granada we took a winding route of hairpin turns over the Boquete de Zafarraya. This spectacular cleft in the coastal mountain range looks like a typical mountain pass, but it’s actually the gateway to a plateau that makes up Andalucia’s interior. We stopped for lunch at Alhama de Granada, a white-washed village on the edge of a small ravine, framed by the distant snow-capped Sierra Nevada mountains.


After taking in the spectacular view from the town's cliff-side position, we stooped for a light tapas lunch in the village square. Our dining spot sat in the shadow of two wonderful old brown sandstone churches. One church sits on a rocky prominence, creating a memorable contrast to its white-washed surrounds, the other sits precariously close to the town's gorge.


While there we almost got more local culture than we’d bargained for. A funeral procession pulled up outside the church where our car was parked, attended to by some rather casually dressed locals. The forboding hearse blocked our route back to the highway, forcing us to take a detour through the narrow cobblestone lanes. You can see Garry navigating his way above. On more than one occasion we found ourselves backing up and taking an alternative wing mirror scrapping route. It’s a wonderful way to get literally lost in history.

Ronda

Garry’s reaction was priceless. I knew it would be. The first time you see Ronda’s breath-taking escarpment everyone instinctively gasps. His reaction was identical to my own 19 years ago. In fact, every memory I have of Ronda has stood the test of time. This is still one of the most surprisingly places I’ve ever visited. At first, as you enter the town, it feels like another dull, and not particularly attractive, old town. You soon learn that nothing could be further from the truth.


Not only is Ronda the largest of Andalucia’s pableo blancos, it’s also home for some of the region’s most surprising highlights. The town sits on the edge of stunning cliff face that plunges more than 100 metres without warning. One moment you’re walking towards just another scenic outlook, the next moment you’re staring straight down toward a distant valley floor. This is just the first highlight.


Follow the cliff’s sheer edge towards the old town and it suddenly splits into a narrow, worn and rocky El Tajo gorge. This is Ronda’s second highlight. Here the Guadalevin river flows through the town separating its old medieval heart from a more modern urban centre. Modern still means dwellings constructed more than a century ago. We stopped in one such establishment for a leisurely tapas lunch, where customers are invited to draw their own beer from tabletop tap.


Crossing between the two halves of the town is made possible by the third highlight; Puente Nuevo. This is a dramatic, stone arch bridge rising boldly up from the river bed below. This majestic feat of engineering draws instant accolades from every visitor. A narrow, almost death-defying flight of stairs take you down the side of the gorge, inside the bridge’s main arch where a small exhibition tells the history of its construction and the gorge itself


Highlight number four is the Plaza de Toros, or bullring. It sits in the centre of the modern town. The traditions of modern bullfighting were first created here in the 18th Century by a Pedro Romero. This bullfighter broke away from the established art of bullfighting on horseback, choosing to challenge the bull on foot instead. Today you can visit a small museum underneath its tiered seating, as well as stand in the middle of the dirt ring itself


Ronda’s final highlight is the old town itself, La Ciudad. This is the original urban centre. It consists of winding cobbled streets, where handsome town mansions have been lovingly restored. Some are still occupied by Ronda's titled families. Many of the buildings were erected during Ronda's brief reign as a minor Moorish Caliphate under Córdoba in the 12th century.


We spent a soul-restoring morning wandering La Ciudad's quiet lanes, as well as stopping at Plaza del Campillo where steep steps and a zigzagging pathway take you down to a dramatic eye-level through the Puente Nuevo’s span. At the edge of town you can also find the remnants of an old city wall, including a dramatic Moorish gateway.

It’s not often reality matches fading memories. Ronda does. I’ll be back in another 19 years to relive the magic of this wonderful town.

Walking with Christ

The Semana Santa processions are an incredible, solemn spectacle. Granada was full of them last weekend. Over a four-day period more than a dozen processions made their way through the city’s narrow lanes to its majestic Cathedral. Each follows the same protocol; a line of hooded parishioners and women in traditional black lace accompanying two heavy wooden gilded platforms, called pasos, along a pre-defined parade route.


The first pasos carries a statue of Christ called the Crucificado; the second, the Virgin Mary or Dolorosa. Each pasos is a spectacle in itself, bedecked with scores of jewels and semi-precious stones. The Virgin is usually covered by a tasseled canopy, supported by twelve bars. The front of her pasos is layered with row after row of lit candles, while the rear supports her cascading, ornately embroidered veil.


Christ is depicted in a number of forms. Christ on the cross was the most common, others reproduced alternative scenes from the Easter story such as Christ’s triumphant Palm Sunday entry into Jerusalem. In an unexpected surprise we got to see every Crucificado close up. They were on display in the Cathedral when we visited on Easter Saturday. Later the same day we watched a live broadcast of each pasos returning to their home churches in a grand procession. We’re told this was an event that happens once every 100 years.


A pasos can weigh several tones. Yet each is carried on head or shoulders of white-clad statue bearers called Costalero. They’re easy to spot with their white cushion, or costal, secured to their head by a thick, folded cloth. The Costalero slowly make their way by synchronizing their steps in time to the drum beat of a trailing band. Up to 50 Costalero carry the pasos for a distance of 200-300 metres before rotating their position with a second team. Each rotation is accompanied by an appreciative applause from the surrounding crowd.


As you’d expect the pace is slow. Each procession starts outside its home church and continues for five or six hours. Some began at midnight and continued until dawn. Our first evening in Granada saw us venture into town to watch our first Semana Santa procession pass. The crowd was festive, lining the streets five or six people deep. Street vendors sold balloons (can anyone tell me what Mickey Mouse has to do with Easter?), popcorn and ice cream, while bars and pastry shops nearby remained open.


Our first sighting of the procession was a memorable moment. Three hooded figures appeared from a side street, one holding a large, jewel encrusted guide-cross, the others carrying candle-lit lanterns. The entire ensemble has an eerie resemblance to that of the Ku Klux Klan. Of course, the Spanish attire is the original and doesn't carry the same connotations as its American counterpart.


Each hoods and gowns was made from white satin, with narrow black eye holes. I later learnt that this garb symbolically makes its wearer identical to everyone around them; only the Lord knows who they truly are inside. Each brotherhood’s costume is a different colour. Over the course of three days in Granada we saw gowns in white, blue and black, and heard of others that were crimson or yellow.


The entire procession is filled with tradition. I’m sure Garry and I missed much of the detail. However, one caught my imagination. Most of the brotherhood and women carry long candles. Children venture from the crowd to capture their dripping wax in balls that slowly grow in size. We saw a few who’d gathered wax the size of soccer balls.


We saw at least five separate processions, including one from the comfort of our hotel balcony. It was a surreal experience watching the crowd swell around each pesos, hearing the band and watching each moment unfold before us as it was broadcast live on local television. Later the same evening I ran down the hill to watch the same procession return home in triumph.


On our last night in town we even found ourselves caught up a procession returning home. As we walked back to our hotel we encountered a Pieta-themed pasos passing its front entrance. You see the procession outside our hotel in the photo above. As the crowd slowly made its way up the hill we kept pace with the band, while onlookers clapped and cheered. It was a magic moment.

So much to do, so little time

We celebrate the fourth anniversary of our departure from Sydney less than six months from now. It's hard to believe how swiftly time has passed. There's now a hard stop looming for our time in London. Our work permit expires in December 2010, barely 18-month away. Once we leave, we'll probably never come back for an extended period. Long-term decision making starts to get a little complex. For example, do I renew a magazine subscription for more than a year? Do we book a quick weekend in Milan on the off chance we're never in Italy again?

To help me plan, I've started drafting a list of things I'd like to do and places I'd like to see before we're done with London. The aim is to squeeze as much of this in as possible, particularly those Northern Hemisphere activities that become too costly to justify once you factor in hotels and airfares from Australia. This was the rationale behind my weekend detour to the Space & Rocket Centre Museum in February.

What else is on my list? A space shuttle launch (Florida is much closer and cheaper from London than Australia will ever be). A cruise along the Dalmatian coast, including a stop in Dubrovnik. A tour of Auschwitz. Chocolate sampling in Bruges. The Iron Bridge in Telford and the Llangollen canal aqueduct. A football match at Wembley Stadium. A trip to Athens and the Greek Islands. My list goes on for pages.

At least two items are planned and ready to go. The first is our forthcoming Easter weekend in Southern Spain, followed second, by a road tour of Devon and Cornwall in early-May. We've locked in an itinerary for both vacations and booked hotels. Our Cornwall timeline is packed with activities. I've booked us on a tour of the original Concorde factory, complete with a wander through the aircraft itself. We're also staying a night at the Land's End Hotel, right on the southernmost tip of England.

With so much in the works, I had to stop for a moment and reflect on all we've already seen and done. This blog is particularly handy. I'm reminded of the Great Flood of 2006, the Easter weekend in Venice(2007) or Easter in Iceland (2008). It's easy to forget how incredible our time in the UK has been thus far. We've now got another 18 months left to load the blog with as many new photos and adventures as we can. Keep reading!

Today's local trivia

This morning I looked for Obama's helicopter as it departed for the G20 Summit. Sadly, I missed it. However, I saw him coming home this evening at 8.14pm, followed by several other aircraft. For the last few hours we've had helicopter's continually circling the neighbourhood. They're clearly on patrol and its becoming rather annoying.

Tomorrow the President departs for Stanstead Airport where Air Force One has been parked since Tuesday. He's off to France for NATO's 6oth anniversary summit. I had to laugh on Monday when Ryanair, a budget airline based at Stansted, proudly boasted that the President of the United States prefers uses the same airport as itself.


On to more mundane matters. Last September I reported that escalators at our local tube station were being refurbished. At the time we were told the first escalator would be back in service by December. However it's still out of action. Posters have recently appeared in the ticket hall advising that the work won't end until May, five months behind schedule. A second escalator will then be out of service until September.

I've also noticed that the refurbishment is now considered part of London's preparation for the 2012 Olympic Games. I guess we'll see more of this as the opening day draws closer. The Jubilee Line terminates at Stratford where the Olympic Stadium is rapidly rising (you can see it above). If all goes according to plan, the upgrade will finish at the end of this year, increasing the line's capacity by a third and reducing journey times by almost a quarter.

However, if our escalator is any indication we could be waiting a while longer. Public works never seem to finish on schedule in the UK. You have to wonder if London really will be ready on time for the Olympics.

Obama my neighbour

The G20 Summit kicked off tonight in London. The G20 is a group of 19 countries, plus the European Union, who collectively represent 85% of the world's GNP. The Group's leaders are in town for the next two days debating a global plan for economic recovery and reform. Their presence has resulted in a massive £10 million security net across the city.

More than 5,000 police are curently on duty, including 2,500 in the central financial district alone. Many have been drafted in from outside London, escorting 40 armed conveys or containing seven officially registered demonstrations. The first of these protests began today outside the Bank of England where twenty-two people were arrested. Another two demonstrations are in full force this evening, with early reports of one death.

Police fear these protests will become increasingly violent, with much of the anger directed at banks and their staff. As a result, workers in the financial district are being urged to dress casually so as not to draw the attention and ire of protesters. In Garry's office everyone has been told to dress down, while staff in my office are advised to do the same if venturing into town for meetings.


President Obama is staying at Winfield House, located on the edge of Regent's Park, less than ten minutes walk from our house. With the president in the neighbourhood, security is understandably tight. This morning I walked to work through the park and stumbled across an overwhelming police presence.

The entire northwest corner of the park was fenced off, with large crash barriers spaced at regular intervals and bolted firmly to the ground. Police patrolled in pairs every 20 metres along both sides of the fence, while scores more sat armed and waiting in a dozen minivans. The police clearly mean business!

This evening as I was coming home, Baker Street tube station was also swarming with police officers. They were out in force to prevent trouble as fans made their way to an England v Ukraine World Cup football qualifier at Wembley Stadium. I think I've seen more policemen today than I've seen in three years.

Tomorrow morning at 7am we'll be woken by the President's helicopter departing for the Summit's East London venue. Apparently more than one identical helicopter typically flies in convey, to confuse potential threats and provide a back-up at all times. I'm guessing we won't run in Obama at the local Tesco any time soon.

Trivial pursuits

Every so often I read the funniest trivia on my commute to work. Here's one example I've yet to share.

The Corkscrew was the oldest rollercoaster ride at Alton Towers, the UK’s largest theme park. After 28 years of service it was finally decommissioned in 2008. While dismantling it workers discovered all manner of centrifugally discarded items. Aside from the expected pile of mobile phones and shoes, ten pair of underwear was also located, along with a prosthetic leg. The mind boggles.

On a more serious trivia note, today’s paper says we could be in for stunning sunsets over the next few weeks. On March 22, Mount Redoubt, an Alaskan volcano erupted, sending plumes of ash 15kms into the atmosphere. This plume is progressively being swept across North America and the Atlantic by jetstream winds. The dust and ash reflects sunlight long after sunset, scattering its rays into a brilliant display of yellow, orange and red. Watch for my photos, assuming we have clear skies in the days ahead.