OK. I'm warming up to Granada. I think I'm going to have to give credit to the hammam bath. Obviously they've rebuilt the entire place since there was an Arabic bath there 1,000 years ago. But holy shit if I didn't feel like I had stepped into a place that was ancient and spiritual. They rebuilt the concept in meticulous detail (um, except for the part where they allow women in - Haha) - it had a series of chambers that consisted of a cool room, a warm room, a hot room, each with accompanying pools of different temperatures, a steam area, masseurs, mild aromas of exotic herbs, and it looked exactly like the palace and bath ruins I've been touring.
I mean, I went from touring the Alhambra this morning to feeling like I was living in it this afternoon. It was very, very dark, lit mostly by candles and a few muted ceiling lights positioned to look like bits of sky - it even had the star cutouts in the ceilings of its domed chambers. They restrict admission by appointment times, so there were miraculously many times when I was by myself or very close as I moved back and forth through the areas. Floating on my back in one hot pool, I could stare up at incredibly intricate plaster work like the palace and listen to trickling streams of water just barely audible above faint Arabic music. You guys, this place was transformative. It will be the best $40 you've ever spent.
It's been a shitty couple of days - really shitty for a list of reasons - and I was grappling with a lot of questions about people and life and myself. People disappoint me, and I have a hard time with that. I disappoint myself sometimes by believing in people when I shouldn't, and I have a hard time with that too. And, even bigger, "Why am I here?" I wondered. Not the bath, but in Europe. Or the universe. Enveloped in the thick steam of one of the hot pools, tears disappeared into the rivulets of steam rolling down my cheeks. I'm tired, I decided - tired of men and peoples' bullshit and feeling like I'm missing something in life in general, and I'm tired of traveling right now - I'm ready to be home with my family and friends. As I floated on my back in the next hotter pool, my forehead came to rest under a thin stream flowing into the bath, and as the water rolled down my temples, I felt an incredible sense of peace. I can't describe the experience, but I know it has to be on every one of your bucket lists. I am a new woman - just in time for starting my journey towards home tomorrow.
Here are a few interesting things about Spain that I've learned along the way:
IF you get off of the main tourist track and into the side streets, taverns and restaurants serve you little bits of food if you order a drink - at least in Granada. It's just a few bites of something or another and it's the chef's choice, but so far I've been served a bagel with prosciutto and sauce, paella, a salad with soy sauce and an egg roll, tuna fish on a bun with extra crappy French fries, and an egg sandwich with chips. It's free, and it's the coolest thing ever. Perfect for me because it's all I can eat anyway.
Gazpacho is amazing. Everyone has their own recipe, kind of like barbecue I suppose. But this is the top of the list of things I'm learning to make once home. Yeah, it's tomato soup, but So. Much. Better.
Spanish people are surprisingly aloof. A few foreigners who live here as expats have confirmed that it isn't just me - it's their culture. I'm used to my Latin American experience where they are so warm and open, even to visitors. That is not Spain. For example, I just got my waiter to crack a smile, and it felt like a victory. And I'm even wearing a great dress.
And speaking of waiters, it is customary here to deliver your food and never come back to the table again for any reason, even if it's on fire, without being summoned. If you wait for them to just bring the check, you will be there until the place closes.
A shocking number of things here are on bread. It's like it's own food group. Like, you can't get eggs for breakfast, but you can get an egg sandwich. In Portugal, by the way, it was mayonnaise and ketchup. Absolutely everything was served with them, even pizza. Bleeech.
People in Southern Spain honestly don't speak English, and pretty much it's because they don't want to, I think. Learn a little Spanish or get a really good translator if you're going to come here. There have been days when I haven't spoken a word of English, and trust me, my Spanish is not that good.
Motorcyclists can do anything they want. So can tour buses. I nearly died today because that goddamn Google Maps lady took me on another street without a sidewalk and it was me and a tour bus. He didn't even hit the breaks and I can't believe I wasn't gutted by his mirror.
Street music takes on new dimensions in Spain. When I have good wi-if, I'll share some video. It's seriously great.
You need to like your own company if you are going to travel alone in Spain. Everyone is traveling with friends and almost no one else speaks your language. I hear so little English. It's kind of cool, unless spending your days like you've taken an oath of silence makes you crazy.
It's a good thing that after a hammam bath day and a little soul searching, I like my own company pretty well right now. Me and myself are about to go find a glass of wine, which is sooooooo cheap here. Like $3 at the best restaurants- as long as you aren't getting fancy about what you want. And you don't need to, the house wine is superb everywhere. It is Spain, after all.
Great affection to you, my friends. Thanks for being so cute and a sane island in my insane life. I'm looking forward to seeing you when I get home.
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