Delight of old Spain
SNOW-capped moutain peaks create a jaw-dropping vista behind the beautiful Moorish palace, Alhambra, which towers over the Spanish city of Granada.
THE snow-capped peaks of the Sierra Nevada created a dramatic backdrop as I flew into the Spanish city of Granada.
It was late in the evening, in the middle of the tourist season. Despite the tantalising delights of a new city, I was more concerned whether my hotel room had been kept.
I caught a shuttle bus to the main avenue, Gran Via. It was lined by Spanish Baroque buildings, intricately decorated, with balconies and wrought-iron work.
In a CD shop playing a flamenco guitar track, a couple of elderly good Samaritans offered to help me find the hotel. One of them insisted on taking my suitcase. I am sure he came to curse his chivalry, as the pavement was almost non-existent.
The city authorities were in the process of digging up the streets and it was hard to know where to walk.
The Hotel Abadia was unexpectedly charming, and even better, they still had a room for me. I hadn't banked on much on a modest budget, but it was newly decorated, had an attractive courtyard with a marble fountain, and was immaculately clean.
Dumping my stuff, I headed out for something to eat. As it was now 10pm, it was a good thing I was in Granada and not in Brisbane, where the kitchens close early.
Following the flow of people back up the Gran Via, I sank into a seat at a little restaurant opposite the cathedral. This huge, ornate building houses the tombs of the 15th century's power couple, Ferdinand and Isabella, who are variously remembered for dispatching Christopher Columbus to the New World, driving the Moors out of Granada in 1492, and starting the Inquisition to ensure their subjects conformed to Catholicism.
The last was a particularly nasty affair, enduring for 350 years and resulting in 340,000 people being tortured and 32,000 executed.
The next morning I checked out the city from the top of a double-decker tourist bus. Granada is a modern metropolis of 240,000, with a mix of glorious heritage architecture, some of which is falling down, hemmed in by ghastly 1960s and 1970s blocks of flats. There is also an impressive-looking bull-ring, still in regular use.
The extraordinary Alhambra towers over the city. The name means "red castle". It is a complex of royal palaces, grand courtyards with exquisite fountains, and delightful formal gardens built under the Moorish Nasrid dynasty in the 14th century. It is also the most significant surviving example of Muslim architecture in Europe.
To get the best view, I climbed the hill opposite. Known as the Albayzin, this was the original Muslim city, and is crowded with old Hispano-Moorish houses.
I rose early the following day and took a taxi to the top of the steep Sabika hill. Having booked my ticket for the Alhambra online, I was pleased to be able to bypass the queue of hundreds of hopefuls waiting for the daily tickets.
It was a long walk to get to the Nasrid Palaces, which are the main attraction. The palaces were built to display the power Muslim rulers still enjoyed after they had been forced to retreat to Granada. The antechamber, the Mexuar, is a gentle introduction to a series of elaborately decorated salons and courtyards, each more magnificent than the last. Following classic Islamic design principles, there is either a fountain or a channel of water in the centre of each courtyard. The intricacy of the plaster and tile work decorating the walls is breathtaking and took an army of artisans more than 30 years to create.
A highlight is the Court of the Lions, enclosed by long colonnades of carved plaster, with 12 lions supporting a central fountain. As the surrounding rooms were the original living quarters I wondered if the ruler responsible, Mohammed V, ever became blase about waking up amid such splendour.
Another memorable sight was a gigantic star-shaped design in the ceiling of the Sala de los Abencerrajes, made of stalactites of carved plaster. This is supposed to be the room where the last Muslim ruler, Boabdil, invited to dinner a family with whom he had fallen out, then had them killed – an act which must have made subsequent guests nervous.
After Boabdil surrendered to Ferdinand and Isabella, the fate of the Alhambra was shaky for a few centuries. Subsequent generations of Christian rulers put their stamp on it, by demolishing sections and re-building in styles they preferred.
In 1812, Napoleon's troops attempted to blow up the place while decamping. The fact that the Alhambra still exists today is due to a soldier who made sure the explosives didn't detonate. Instead, the site was left to fall into decay. Drawings show the wonderful Court of the Lions with holes in the paving and weeds growing through the marble. We have the advent of tourism to thank for its restoration.
In the adjoining gardens of the Generalife, plants have been tamed into orderly geometric shapes. The sound of running water is everywhere, giving it a peaceful atmosphere and drowning out the chattering of innumerable tour groups.
Footsore after trudging around for six hours, I made my way back down the hill. Over a sangria and paella in a tiny restaurant, I mused that it was ironic Spanish Christians spent 800 years trying to kick the Moors out and, having succeeded, were now making so much of the city's income from their legacy.
During the religious persecution that followed the fall of Granada, Moors, Jews and Gitanos escaped into the Sierra Nevada mountains.
It was here that flamenco was born, from a combination of cultural influences. Since the 1970s, there has been a revival of the art form, led by remarkable dancer Cristina Hoyos.
That night I was lucky enough to catch a show starring Hoyos in the gardens of the Generalife. Romancero Gitano was based on the work of Granada's most famous son, the poet Federico Garcia Lorca. The rich heritage of Andalusia came alive as flamenco dancers strutted and vibrated across a stage under the stars.