(The Albaicin seen from the Al-Hambra Palace)

At some time or the other, everyone has heard Jerry Vale’s lyrics to a song he wrote entitled Granada:

Granada, I’m falling under your spell
And if you could speak, what a fascinating tale you would tell
A vantage, the world has long forgotten,
A vantage that weaves a silent magic in Granada, today……

I had personally heard them as a child growing up in Bombay where the song was popular at singing contests. Never did I dream that one day I would walk through the streets of this historic town, picking at stones to hear stories of an age when the world still remembered the splendor that was Granada. Though most tourists come to Granada to see the world-renowned Al-Hambra Palace, this ancient city has much more to offer. First occupied by the Moors who arrived in Spain from the shores of Northern Africa in the 8^th century, Granada reached its fullest glory under the rule of the Muslim Nasrids from 1238 to 1492 who set out to build an awesome monument to their greatness.

Our exploration of Granada began in the main square of the Puerta Nueva where we lunched on doner kebabs wrapped in a pita—a meal that gave us our first understanding of the extent of Muslim impact in this part of Spain. The minaret-like spire of the Iglesia Santa Ana (left), a 16th century church, looked down upon the square as we decided not to waste any time in drinking in the scene spread out before us.We used the Eyewitness Travel Guide one more time to take a walking tour of the Albaicin (pronounced Al-bye-seen), the ancient Moorish district which hugs the sides of the hills opposite the Al-Hambra to create a labyrinth of cobbled streets lined by high-walled, white-washed houses with red-tiled roofs and patio-ed gardens within. Thank heavens for sturdy walking shoes which eliminated the risk of twisting an ankle on those challenging cobbles. Walking alongside the banks of the River Darro on Carrera Del Darro, we paused to take pictures of the picturesque red brick bridges and the old homes that seemed to tumble down to the river’s edge. Once inside the maze that comprises the Albaicin, one had better remain glued to a map and one’s wits—you could easily get lost and never find your way out. The eerie silence that accompanied this stroll was also rather unusual, for tucked as far away from civilization as it is, the Albaicin’s spirit is uninterrupted by blaring horns, traffic noises or street vendors.

A chance encounter with fellow-tourist Julian from Germany led us on the route back to the Mirador San Nicolas, a church square dominated by the Church of St. Nicolas, where weary strollers had congregated to take a break from their uphill climb through those stunningly evocative alleyways. The Al-Hambra lay spread out before us on the opposite bank of the Darro river, its high walls, square towers, and fairy-tale windows looming dauntingly on the mountainside. This mirador (or view point) provided stunning views of the Andalucian countryside as it lay bathed in the warming sun. Street entertainers provided interesting diversion at every turn.

Before long, we were on our way again, passing by Plaza Largo with its busy farmer’s market, noting the street signs at the corner of each tiny intersection in ceramic tile and blue calligraphy recalling the Moorish occupation of this city so many centuries ago. Every mosque in the picturesque district was converted long years ago into a church but the distinctive mujedar (Muslim) architecture as exemplified by the minaret-shaped spires, was ample evidence of the glory of the Nasrids. Then it was time for us to take the bus back up to the Al-Hambra to begin our exploration of one of the world’s most splendid monuments. We purchased audio guides for 3 Euros each and made our hurried way to the main archway of the Nasrid’s Palace for our 3.30 pm entrance into it as specified on the ticket we had purchased online before our departure for Spain (10 Euros).

The Al-Hambra was built gradually under the glorious reigns of Nasrid caliphs Ismail I, Yusuf I and Muhammed V whose love of beauty, symmetry, architectural design and embellishment were easily evident at every turn. The buildings create poetry of grace, style and imagination as seen in the uniform arches, the magical domes, the spacious patios, the slim pillars. There is beauty at every turn—in the wealth of ceramic tile used as a kind of wainscoting on every wall, laid out in complicated geometrical designs that the Spanish call azulejos (below left).

Though the materials used to build the Al-Hambra are far from gorgeous—just timber, stucco, ceramic, plaster and occasionally marble—the manner in which the decoration was visualized and implemented is nothing short of magnificent. In many ways, this style of Islamic architecture is similar to what one sees of Moghul greatness on the Indian sub-continent. For instance, the channels of water that run through the rooms, the lattice work on the windows (in timbered frames as opposed to marble ‘jallis’ in India and Pakistan), the natural air cooling devices that were built into these palaces, and the incorporation of gardens that were symbols of Paradise to these Muslim kings, are universal in most Islamic construction. But the Al-Hambra had certain other elements of interior design and decoration that I have never seen anywhere else. The appearance of what is called “macarabe” design was breathtaking.

It consists of stucco work that hangs down like stalactites from ceilings and arches (left) and in domes to form an intricate honeycomb pattern that is simply mind boggling. I took scores of pictures to try and capture this artistry. All over the walls, scripture from the Koran was sculpted in abundance. Geometric forms, flowers and fruits, especially the motif of the pomegranate (Granada in Arabic means “Land of the Pomegranate”) appeared in varied guises through cupolas and arches, in towering minarets and in pillars. Everywhere the sensuousness of the Islamic aesthetic overwhelmed the eye. The Patio de los Leones (The Patio of the Lions) was distinctive for the central marble fountain encircled by carved lions (below).

Paintings on leather panels hugged the walls of the rooms, many being refurbished for preservation. The use of reflecting pools added more excitement to the design as was the frequent presence of water. For Islam, a religion that originated in the deserts of Saudi Arabia, Paradise is always associated with the abundant availability of water—hence the fountains, gardens, etc. that are the epitome of Moorish landscape design.

As we left the main buildings of the Al-Hambra (already very tired indeed) to saunter at will through the leafy arbors and canopied avenues of the Generalife (pronounced Henera-lee-fay), the private estate gardens of the Nasrid rulers, I could not help but feel a pang for the passing away of so grand an epoch. The facile surrender of his kingdom by Boabdil, last of the Nasrid rulers, to the fanatic Catholic monarchs Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabel of Castille in 1492 not only put paid to Muslim presence and power in Andalucia but led to the systematic destruction of so many of the Moors’ most highly prized monuments. Fortunately, better sense prevailed in regards to the Al-Hambra, for instead of destroying this splendid place, the Catholic rulers decided to make it their own base, adding a chapel in order to consecrate the space as holy ground. Indeed, the Al-Hambra Palace is soaked in history. It was here that Ferdinand and Isabel received a young Genoan named Cristobal Colon who sold them the idea of reaching the Indies by sailing westwards. Thus, it was here that the idea of a Spanish Empire was conceived.

A walk down a footpath that connects the Al-Hambra to its surrounding gardens leads one to the Generalife, that are some of the best-known gardens in the world. Though we were too early in season to enjoy the magnificence of its flowers and the soft scents of jasmine that perfume the night air in the spring and summer, we still had enough of an opportunity to appreciate the genius that created these arcades and bowers for the sensual enjoyment of nature. Though the word ‘Generalife’ has many meanings, the most commonly accepted is said to derive from the Arabic Yannat al Arif or the “Garden of Lofty Paradise”.

Begun in the 13^th century, they have been continually modified over the centuries. An army of gardeners and landscape artists work on the space even today to keep it in the glorious array of its ancient roots. One meanders peacefully and sensitively through the flower-beds and rectangular pools, pausing frequently to appreciate the blend of architectural and natural elements in these special environs. There is a profusion of roses, myrtle, rosemary, jasmine, lavender and camellia plantings everywhere and, no doubt, every passing season brings its own natural contribution. The Patio de la Acequia is the most beloved of the various patios in the garden for the graceful jets of spouting water that flow into a reflecting pool make gentle arches around visitors as they pause in the scented air. As you climb the marble steps along the Escalera del Aqua, you are surrounded by dwarf bay trees that lend a soft herbal perfume to the space as the flowing of water lilts quietly around. I plucked a bay leaf to stick in my scrapbook, a tiny souvenir from the annals of history and time that seemed to stand still as my fingers caressed the cool marble landings.

Though very pleasing to the senses, touring these environs is wildly exhausting, and we were forced to stop for a rest before exploring the Alcazabar or the Castle Keep through which the townspeople of Granada found access to their rulers. Here was where the artisans and local merchants made their homes and carried out their trade. Here are the barracks of the army and the public baths of the soldiers. Here is a stairway that leads up to the roofline from which once can gaze upon the natural ice-encrusted towering peaks of the Sierra Nevadas that cast a frowning glance upon the man-made heights of the Al-Hambra’s steeples. Here is where the royal pendant flew on that fateful day in 1492 when determined to seize power back from the Moors and stop Muslim expansion in Spain, Ferdinand and Isabel made Boabdil give up his rights to rule in exchange for the promise that his Muslim people would be allowed to practice their faith without hindrance—a pact that was rapidly broken. Here is where he cast a last poignantly sorrowful glance upon the power that once was his—a thought that brought the tears flowing from his eyes and caused his mother to comment icily, “You are crying like a child for a kingdom that you could not defend like a man”.

Before we left, we peaked into the Palace of Charles V, an ambitious Renaissance square-shaped building (to symbolize earthly power and stability) with a completely round, spherical interior design (to symbolize the greatness of the heavens and the powers of the cosmos). Never completed, this building today houses Spanish-Islamic archives and art objects, the most famous of which is the Al-Hambra Vase.

I cannot even begin to express how fortunate I felt to be walking through these pathways and patios, through these arcades and arbors. For years I have read about the beauty and significance of the Al-Hambra Palace in Granada never believing that I would, one day, have the privilege of touring these unreal spaces in person. It was unfathomable to me that such marvels were produced so many centuries ago and that it was not just aesthetic pleasure that was sought here but intellectual pursuit as well for the gardens and the domes are often laid out in accordance with the principles of Pythagoras’ Theorem. Learning and intellectual endeavors were never very far away from the Islamic mindset in the medieval ages and the enduring importance of such cities as Cordoba and Granada attest to the extent to which human determination can produce splendor while attempting to assuage one’s God.

Leaving the fairytale magic and enchantment of Granada behind us, we set out in search of our lodgings for the night—Villa Ithaca Bed and Breakfast located in the tiny village of Padul that is run by a British couple, Jeremy and Sophie Colwell with the assistance of Jeremy’s parents Dudley and Ann. When we did find it at nightfall, tired and hungry after our day’s sojourn, they suggested we find sustenance at a nearby restaurant, Valle del Punta. A short walk took us to this charming establishment in which a gigantic fireplace warmed the very casual seating. We opted for Spanish tapas—Serrano ham and olives in brine as a first course then ordered Shrimp sauted in olive oil, garlic and parsley and served with crusty bread. Washed down by Spanish beer, it made a lovely end to our very enlightening day and it was with great fatigue that we flopped into our beds for the night.

Jeremy served us a humongous breakfast, the next morning, in a dining room that overlooked the patchwork fields of the Andalucian countryside. Over the first fresh melon of the season, fruit and nut studded muesli, scrambled eggs on toast, hot buttered croissants, freshly squeezed orange juice and freshly ground coffee, we talked about our plans for the day with another English couple, Mike and Susan, who were also resident at our B&B. Then, it was time to leave but not before Ann gave me a tour of her lovely gardens and discussed with me her plans to develop the B&B into a far more upscale space for long-term lodgers. Bidding goodbye to our very friendly hosts, we drove off to discover the enticements of the ritzy Costa del Sol.

To follow us on the next leg of our journey in Spain, please click on Costa del Sol.

Bueno Viajes!