The tapas origin story goes something like this: there were too many flies in [famous bar] in [amazing coincidence - city you happen to be in right now] and they were always getting into the customers' wine glasses, so [famous bar owner] decided it would be a good idea to cover them with small plates. And why not top these plates with a free sample of something delicious, to show off the chef's skill? (Alternately, something salty to increase thirst.)
In many places tapas are merely inexpensive rather than free, but the tradition continues in Granada. Order a drink by itself most anywhere, and you will be served something to eat with it. Carried to its logical extension, one could have a whole meal without ever ordering any food, provided you had enough to drink, and you didn't mind taking your chances. Challenge accepted! What follows derives from the notes I hastily assembled as the night progressed and sobriety decreased:
- I think this was the fish one. In... a sauce. Tomato? Or is this a flashback to the fish of regret? Close to the tourist center, on a street with "Ruta de las Tapas" signage.
- Patatas bravas y carne (fries and steak tips). I remember this one. The most American of Spanish dishes. Clearly visible from #1, which proved less awkward than I'd feared.
- Potatoes? Pork rinds? Not really sure. In some sort of gravy. And something else. There was definitely a second part to this dish. Was it the cheese? Must have been because there's no cheese in this list otherwise. Really nice cheese oil bread herb something. The menu looked suspiciously like #1's - not that I was actually ordering from it - so I think many of this street's bars were owned by the same company.
- Potato sticks and... Ribs? Very small ribs. From what, a squirrel? Best not to think about it. On that note, let's head for the modern city, retracing my steps from the previous night's cab ride.
- Pollo curry and olives served by a lovely tattooed butch woman. This bar didn't look too appealing from the outside, but it was certain to have a bathroom, which was the only thing that mattered to me at the time I entered. This was also the only indoor venue on the list.
- Crab potato salad with almonds. Served riverside. But not the river near my hostel. A different one, since I had walked a good deal at this point.
With that I was full, as well as pretty certain I didn't need any more to drink, so I headed bedward. On the way I passed a bar/bakery which I had read about: a popular stop for students after drinking due to the excellent churros which come in massive quantities. In a last-ditch effort at preserving a shred of dignity, I won't tell you how many churros I had.
Good night.
You know I love exploring, choosing random directions to wander in, and heading off the beaten path. But I had tourist days too: inevitable when you want to see the same thing everyone else does. My trip to the Alhambra was one of these, and naturally best experienced by photo gallery.
This was the most thoroughly planned part of my trip. I had read that you need to get tickets weeks in advance - very true! A few weeks before traveling I tried to get a straight Alhambra ticket that at least overlapped the time I expected to be in Granada, and I was unable. The only options remaining were as a combo ticket: either as part of a tour group (ugh, no!) or the Bono Turístico, which also works for local transit. I figured I'd need that anyway, so I made a purchase and got my half-hour window for the Nasrid Palace along with a stern warning about being late. The whole of my trip had to pivot around this point.
No point in wasting time: I'm up before dawn! (Not that difficult to do, since Spain is 2 hours ahead of the sun during daylight savings. I saw many sunrises, actually.) The sun is low and the grounds are mostly empty when I enter the Generalife Gardens. Hedgerows, trees, flowers, fountains, canals, waterfalls, and lovely views of the city, across to Sacromonte, the Albayzín, and beyond. Turn left to view the might of the Alhambra, our hilltop neighbor. The buildings of the Generalife are impressive too, intricately ornamented with Islamic calligraphy, though my understanding is that they're but a hint at the wonders to come.
On to wonder, then! The Alhambra walls dominate the hill, and in turn the whole city. On entering, there's a sign indicating that it's still a 15 minute walk or so to the Nasrid Palace, so you'd better have timed this correctly. I was very early, as planned, so I enjoyed the central area of the Alhambra. Judging by the ruins, there must once have been a whole city's worth of buildings up there. "Don't walk on this" said the sign. I didn't. Eventually I made my way to the Alcazaba (fortress) - the highest and most imposing part. Up a tower, see some amazing views, back down, rinse, repeat. It was amazing to me, but I am at a loss as to how to make sightseeing interesting to you, dear reader. Perhaps it's like the Matrix, where you have to see for yourself?
At last the appointed hour arrived. I was vaguely on time so they ushered me into the Nasrid Palace. One of the most amazing buildings I'll probably ever see, but again I have nothing terribly interesting to say about it! The only eventful thing to happen was that my phone battery died after taking so many pictures.
Finally after a hard day's work of standing around looking at things, my feet were exhausted. I rested a bit at the hotel, then went out in search of lunch. I hadn't gotten my fill of the Albayzín, so I climbed the hill in search of hidden viewpoints and cafes. I had more success with the latter: simple home cooking by a grandma, served by her daughter, on the sidewalk by a quietly bustling square. White wine and shade. Bliss. No English was spoken here, but a halting conversation with the representative of the youngest generation eventually conveyed that the bathroom had no light. Somehow this only added to the charm.
Not much else happened that day, and I'll leave the night to another post.
