Granada outside the Alhambra

Ach. It's been an arduous day, and disappointing. It began all right, with a two-hour train ride from Córdoba to Granada.

Through the window of the train I saw mile after mile of olive orchards, mountains in the distance.

Once in Granada, I decided to walk to my hotel instead of taking a taxi. On the map, when I glanced at it last night, it looked like a very short walk. Hah! It was not short. And I had to ask directions several times. (Asking directions turns out to be not hard to do. People here are friendly and eager to help.)

By the time I finally reached the hotel around 2:00 pm I was tired and very hungry. I found myself terribly annoyed to find that no one was there to greet me at the door. The hotel office was up a flight of marble stairs. No elevator. And then... my room is up yet another flight of stairs! Helen F would see this as a benefit, an exercise opportunity. I wanted an elevator!

Getting off to a late start, map in hand, still crabby, I started out on a 40-minute walk to the Alhambra. Along the way, a cold beer and a plate of salmon cheered me up and convinced me I could walk all the way up. I crossed through a few crowded, noisy plazas in the city, full of shops and restaurants. One of the shops sold spices in bulk, many baskets right out on the sidewalk.

The moment I entered the grounds of the Alhambra the bustling world fell away. I was surrounded by green, and by the sound of bubbling water. The steep path — I mean STEEP — has water running along both sides through stone channels.

The sound of the rushing water is LOUD as it cascades over  steps and boulders.

Oddly enough, Washington Irving inhabits this steep path. His writing of Tales of the Alhambra in 1829 had something to do with the decision to restore the palace after years of abandonment.

My plan was to purchase a ticket for tomorrow, since it was now about 4:00 and today was just about shot. However, when I got to the ticket window at the very very top of the high hill, I was told that one must buy one's ticket on the day it will be used. All the tickets for today were sold out, of course. I could buy a ticket in advance via the internet, however the first available day will be November 6. OR... I could come back tomorrow, stand in line beginning at 6:30 am, and buy a ticket for tomorrow when the window opens at 8:00. They do reserve a small number of tickets for those who wish to purchase on site. 

Oh.  

Pondering this, I chose not to retrace my steps but to walk behind the Alhambra in the direction of the old Muslim area called Albaicín. Almost immediately, this sign — or rather, its English translation — caught my attention:

I walked downhill behind the Alhambra along a stone path, accompanied by more gurgling streams. 

I took some videos so that you could hear the sound, but belatedly realize that videos don't work on this blog.  Alas.

I was delighted to see olive trees along this path, having only seen them from a distance on the train.

Can you see the tiny little green olives?

Walking downward along this stone path was lovely, but my feet began to hurt. The stones dug in, even through the soles of my heavy boots.

You can see Albaicín off in the distance. It's high on a second hill, separated from the Alhambra by the Río Darro.

I reached the bottom and crossed the little Río Darro. My feet hurt and there I was, facing the high hill of Albaicín. What could I do? I had to climb it! Yet more stone paths, these now going UP.

Good things about this walk: The views are terrific. 

View of the Alhambra from half-way up the hill in Albaicín

The people you run into — from all over Europe, and also one lovely man from Ghana — are fun to talk to. We help each other, as we are all pondering our maps, each one of us as lost as the other in this warren of stone streets running up and down, streets often turning into steps.

By 7:00 I was back down in the city and in a funk. What to do? Do I really want to get up at 6:00 and walk through dark and deserted streets into the city center, hoping to find a taxi at that hour to take me back up the hill to the Alhambra? Would it be safe? What are my alternatives? 

I guess I've decided I do NOT want to do that, safety being my main concern. I'll figure something out. Most likely, I'll move away from this cheap but funky hotel into one which is equipped to call a taxi for me in the morning. Meanwhile, it's after midnight here and I'm hitting the hay!