Rock My World

From Nerja we took another painful bus ride to La Linea, the Spanish town right outside of Gibraltar. (The moral of the story is that bus travel is not for me.) All the guidebooks say that Gibraltar is expensive (and not just because they use the Pound) and annoying (and not just because they use British electronic prongs). To get to Gibraltar from Spain, one has to pass through La Linea anyway, so we just booked our hotel there. Our first night, we decided to walk over to Gib (as the locals call it) for dinner. The sunset cast a beautiful soft light on the Rock as we approached. Now, if you have a US passport, you can pass through customs with just a flash of the blue cover, but J (being J) wanted a stamp. The middle-aged British man kindly stamped our passports and gave us a recommendation for dinner. Quote: Me and missus eat foº about tweny-firdy quid. Dinner was surprisingly good. We had tasty, cold beer for the first time in weeks! And J had something called Beef Viagra (which was a curry dish). Yumm. It was a late dinner and I knew we were getting up early to see the Rock, but I had a feeling that something special might happen the next day, so before I went to bed, I made sure to pluck my eyebrows....

Iºm going to skip Rick Steveºs Self-Guided Bus Tour and get straight to the good stuff. We rode the cable car up the rock (which reminded me of Hong Kong), were greeted by the famous Barbary Macaques (teeny tiny baby monkeys and all) and started wandering up. The views at every turn were incredible. We could see all of Gib, half of La Linea and into the Spanish port towns farther down the coast. It was hot and sticky and we hiked slowly towards the southern tip. I canºt even remember what we were walking towards. But we got to a sign which said "Moor View Point" and a long stone staircase. I remember this because I made a bad joke (Look! More moor views). J took off and I slowly made my way up the old, cracking staircase. The rock was smooth, but breaking apart after hundreds of years of use (I imagine) and hundreds of thousands of feet (I imagine). The Moorish View Point was an old stone building (bunker?) built half in the ground. J was on top of the building (and Iºd seen plenty of views at that point), so I wandered down into the building itself. It was an ancient building with small rooms, low ceilings and what looked like a prison cell. There was modern graffiti and trash all over. J hollered down at me, inquiring about what I saw. Nothing much, so I made my way out of the building. As soon as I got to the top, he got down on one knee and pulled me close to him. (Side note: Weºd been talking about getting engaged for months. J would make jokes about "when we have kids" and I would reply before we did that we had to get married and before we did that we had to get engaged and before we did that one party had to purpose to the other party. Iºd purposed at least twice, but J said no. He made it very clear that he wanted to wait until after Caitlinºs wedding and that he had some grand romantic gesture planned for our trip this summer. He actually made a joke about purposing on Gibraltar. When he actually did purpose, I was overcome with joy and love and other emotions, but surprise was not one of them.) He said some stuff about choosing Gibraltar because it was a meeting point, a place where oceans and continents collide (my word, not his). Then some stuff about the Rock standing through tempestuous weather and calm weather. From there he went to a metaphor about intermingling currents. (Which got a HEY-O from the peanut gallery.) At which point, we brandished the place-holder ring and finished off with the traditional "Kali Robinson Eichen, will you marry me?". The night before I was planning a hilarious and snide reply, but in the moment, I forgot and just said yes. There were kisses and tears. Then some Canadians came up to the view point and we told them that we had gotten engaged, only moments prior, and asked if they would take our picture. The man said that it was good luck to get engaged on a former Miltary base - that he purposed to his wife on one 35 years ago. And thatºs how it happened. In a British Colony, with Africa in front of us and Europe behind us. The view was gorgeous: the Straight was glassy blue belt opening to Africa, a not-so-distant land mass(land massive is more like it). We were on top of the world.

Big Bird yellow. With enormous blue stars.

Kali was a much bigger fan of Granada than me. I thought it was hot, dirty, loud, smelly, and full of tourists. However, we were only there for 36 hours, so I didn't exactly have a chance to fully immerse myself in its culture. We also stayed in a hostal apparently designed for 19-year-olds on mushrooms, so that didn't really help either.

(Seriously, I need to talk about this hostal for a second. First of all, we walk in, and the entire front desk is covered in mirror shards. Not just one big mirror - hundreds of reflective surfaces, all tiled on at different angles to create a funhouse wonderland of sparkles and movement. We walk into the secondary lobby, which on first glance is nice - marble floors and columns, a couple of computers for communal use. But then we see the huge chiffon scarf-curtains hanging from the ceiling. And the pleather couches covered in all manner of douchebag. And the signs on the walls announcing "Saturday night MOJITO party!!!!!!!" Trudging warily up the stairs, we are assaulted with an odor we still haven't been able to identify before finally making it to our room. Which is painted Big Bird yellow. With enormous blue stars. All over the ceiling. Kill me now. This place (and another in Madrid that we stayed the night we fled Morocco) has convinced me I can never stay in a hostal again. And yes, it's because I'm old - I would have LOVED this place if I'd found it in Costa Rica in 2003.)

So Granada itself didn't really do it for me, but the main point of coming to Granada most definitely did (funny how Kali loved the city but not the sight, while I was the other way around.) The Alhambra was awe-inspiring. Built by the Moors during their occupation of Spain and then taken back by the Spanish in 1492, this palace compound was unbelievably rich in history (as Kali posted, it was here that Ferdinand and Isabella listened to Columbus's pitch to sail to India... in the same year they had reconquered Granada from the Moors. Who says life didn't move quickly in the 1400s?) You start in the General's Gardens (where Hector Cobb proposed to his wife), which is where Kali's favorite feature was located: a stairway with running water in the bannister. And nothing against said bannister (which I used to soak my forearms in blessedly cool water - it was HOT that day), but I was far more impressed by the Muslim architecture throughout. Even before we got to the main attraction, the gardens were awing me. The pools, the archways, the ceilings. Breathtaking.

Kali's beloved watery stair bannister.

Next up was a long sun-baked walk to the Palace of Charles V, which was built in a somewhat reactionary manner after the Reconquista. "Oh, you Muslims think you can build a palace? Well watch this!" The most notable thing about this palace was it's square exterior construction and circular interior courtyard. That description clearly doesn't do it justice, so allow I'll just trust you to click the Google image search I linked above. It was the first time this construction had ever been used in Renaissance architecture. Ah screw it, here are some pictures:

The outside.

And the inside.

So anyway, that was awesome. And yet the best was still to come - the palace of the sultan.

As Rick Steves said about the cathedral in Toledo, I walked around staring upwards with my mouth hanging out like a Pez dispenser that no longer works properly. One of the reasons I love Muslim architecture has to do with the religion itself: since "graven images" are strictly banned, there are no pictures of people in any of the art. Unlike in a Christian church, where you're inundated with images of people (Jesus, Mary and Joseph, angels, Adam and Eve, David and Goliath... the list goes on), the sultan's palace at the Alhambra is decorated solely with geometric designs and a single phrase in Arabic repeated a whopping 9,000 times: "only Allah is victorious." The tilework, the carvings, the fountains, the columns - I felt like my head was on a swivel, and was overwhelmed by the beauty of it all.

The Hall of the Ambassadors, where foreign dignitaries would meet with the sultan (and where Ferdinand and Isabella signed off on Columbus's voyage to India).

At the end of the Alhambra day, we were hot, sweaty, and exhausted. But I swear I've never seen a single more beautiful place in my entire life.

Vacation From Our Vacation (Part 1)

From Granada, we took a bus along the horribly circuitous and winding highway to the southern coast of Spain - the Costa Del Sol. Our destination: Nerja (prounounced, as J likes to continually point out, ner-HA). We were told that Nerja would be overrun by British Tourists and it was. But we were also told that it is one of the most beautiful places in the country and it was. The coast line was stunning. The town is built atop cliffs (which J thought were limestone) that drop dramatically into the ocean. The rock is covered in foilage, so there are swaths of green cutting across the sandy brown rock that rises out of the sandy brown beach. The whole effect is, as I said, just stunning. We moved at break-neck speed through Madrid, Toledo and Granada, and needed a lazy day at the beach. We walked from our hostal (just up the street from the Balcony of Europe and the busiest beaches) to Burriana Beach father east. It was still overrun with tourists and the kind of shops that tourists attract (a bit like Seaside Oregon), but the crowds thinned out towards the end of the beach. In Burriana, we found Ayoºs! Rick Steveºs recommended paella place. Delicious! The paella was cooked in a cast iron skillet that J could comfortably lounge in, with persumably - hopefully - fresh caught seafood. We hit the shops to acquire a beach umbrella and flotation device (the long rectangular type with a pillow on one end), and we were ready. (Side note for Jordan: Flotation device is a revelation. Swimming and sunbathing in one! Utter perfection.) The Mediterranean water was colder than I hoped, but still warm enough to float in (as long as most of my body was out of the water). But there was little breeze and little current, so we just floated the day away. As I said, perfection. The sun was hot and my favorite thing was to dip my head into the water from over the pillow. The sand wasnºt really sand at all, but small rocks, which kept heat rather well and burned the bottom of our feet. After a dip we would literally run back to the umbrella, sun ourselves a bit, then RUN back to the water to cool down. That day we discovered Jamon Y Queso flavored potato chips (thatºs Ham AND Cheese). I donºt know if it was the sun or the atmosphere or the dehydration, but man, those chips were mind-blowing!

In truth, I would describe the town as dingy. The whole place was in need of a fresh coat of paint. And yet, there were enough real estate shops to compete with Starbucks in an American city and the banks advertised in English, German and Spanish (quote "We speak your language"). There was a Dutch man selling English grocery items and a English Pub with Tuesday night Trivia. I like to call this The Real European Union. Also, we saw more overweight men, women and children (and more shades of skin in the translucent to third-degree burn variety) in that town than all our previous stops in Spain.

After a day in the relentless sun, I have to admit that J and I matched those fried tourist. J looked like Neapolitan Ice Cream. Strawberry on top, vanilla in the middle, and chocolate on the bottom. Ouch.

Where it all Began

(I´m feeling better, and J is reading about baseball on the internet, so I´m going to attempt to jump back in.)

And so Granada.

The moment we drove away from the train station to our hostel in Granada, I was blown away. We were staying in the "old muslim quarter" at the base of the Alhambra. The neighborhood was absolutely picturesque (like too many Spanish cities, I´ve lost count). Seriously, I wanted to take pictures of everything. The adorable balcony fixtures, the cobblestone streets, the tall narrow buildings. Every stone is old, every piece of metal ornate. The only thing that wasn´t absolutely gorgeous was the river. Which was filthy. Covered with human trash and feral cats. (And the human trash was enough to support a mom cat and 7 kittens . . . . that´s mucho trash). I was not the only one who noticed the cats. We overheard a /lovely/ American teenager tell his friends "You should see how many cats there are at that place where Ceasar was killed." Yes, that place. But I digress.

The main attraction in Granada is The Alhambra - an old Moorish palace, amory, royal gardens et al. Firstly, it is built on a huge hunk of rock, so we had to hike up the steep back road lined with a surprising amount of tree cover. Like large pine trees. This was yet another monument that is part Moorish, part Catholic, and part Roman. Again, I was fascinated by the oldness and the history in a place like that, but Islamic architechture just doesn´t do it for me. It´s beautiful and mind-boggling and jaw-dropping, but it just doesn´t get my heart racing. (I did flutter at the dizzying tilework that inspired MC Escher, probably more for the modern connection.) Mostly, I just looked around and imagined being a Prince in the 1100s (because I imagine it would have been less fun to be a Princess) and actually living in a palace like that. But that train of thought just led me to my old roomate (whose mother actually IS Spanish royalty) and I didn't want to think about that. I´m going to let J tell you the details of the Alhambra cause he was waaaay more into it than I was, but I will share my personal highlights.

My favorite part of the royal garden was the "water staircase" (aside from all the pretty trees, flowers and playing with my new camera´s macro function). Stone steps with canals running down the side. I have no idea what the purpose of this was, but it was awesome. I want a water staircase in my garden.

The Throne Room (at least I think that what is was called). Anyway, it was the spot, the actual spot, where the Double Cs asked permission from Izzy and Fred to "find India" as it were. The first domino. Changed the old world and the new world both. The very beginning of life as we Americans know it. I walked on the tiles that Isabel walked on. I gazed at the ceiling that Ferdinand gazed at. I stood in the spot that Christopher Columbus stood. I must admit, my heart fluttered a moment there as well.

Okay, here's the deal

Sorry we haven't posted anything since, like, Toledo. The beginning of our Morocco trip was such a whirlwind that we didn't even have time to sleep, let alone blog. The end of our Morocco trip, well...

We're back in Spain, having cut the Moroccan portion of our trip short by 4 days. We came down with a pretty serious bug in Marrekesh - maybe from the street food we ate there Sunday night, maybe from the orange juice that is apparently served in dirty glasses, maybe from the tap water I'm sure the ice cubes are made from. Regardless of how we got it, it absolutely devastated us. We were fine all day Monday, but both woke up on Tuesday spewing like Old Faithful. From both ends. It wasn't pretty.

We had originally planned on leaving Marrekesh on Tuesday afternoon/early evening, but that pretty obviously couldn't happen. We extended our stay for a night, and started thinking about what the next few days were going to entail. We had already decided to can the trip to the desert, so our next stop was to be Fez by train. The thought of sitting on a Moroccan train for 8 hours only to arrive in another hot, stinky, crowded city where we couldn't trust the food was too much to bear for us in our condition at that point, so instead we bought two easyJet tickets to Madrid and flew back to Spain. We spent the night there on Wednesday and then trained to Seville on Thursday. We've been in bed pretty much ever since. Finally made it out to a pharmacy today for some low-level antibiotics. If they don't kick this, then a trip to the hospital is probably in order.

Hopefully the pills work - we've got reservations in Portugal on Monday night.

Stay tuned

Ok. We realize that we've been slacking on the blog, but it's been an epic week. I can't promise anything in the next five days, but then KA-BLAM! First stop in Portugal, 4 days of beaching and bloging.

A scene from Toledo aka I still got it!

J and I are standing with the backpacks waiting for a taxi to take us up the hill to Toledo. A taxi pulls up and an old man approaches the car from my right. Ever the gracious traveler, I make the universal sign for "go ahead. The taxi is all yours." the old man turns to me, "gracias, Bonita." he takes a step to the car, then turns around. He stops, reaches into his pocket and produces two hard candies. He places one in my hand and one in J's hand. "tu es guapa," he says and gets in the car.