back to the america

We´re not back in the states yet, but we´re on our way. Before getting there, a little recap. From Tangier we made a straight shot to Granada, our last stop in Spain. After encountering a lot of grumpy people unrealistically concerned about personal space on both the bus to Granada and the city bus to our hotel, we landed at a clean, new guesthouse inside of an apartment building.

The city of Granada is dominated by a fortress/palace structure called the Alhambra, the current buldings of which date back to the 14th century Islamic rule, but which has been the site of such structures since before the Romans. While the city itself is fairly interesting to roam around, this is the jewel that you are really supposed to see. As it turns out, this jewel is unimaginably sought after, and it took me three days to acquire tickets to get in, which in the end involved arriving an hour and a half before the 8am opening time, and then waiting in various lines and having 30 minutes of alotted time with which to view the most impressive palace seciton. I won´t say that the Alhambra is worth all the hype (I can´t imagine anything that could be worth so much hype, other than Jesus performing in Madison Square Garden with the Beatles as his backup band and Michael Jackson as the opener), but it was pretty impressive. The fortess walls and towers are pretty standard, but the palaces are really something to see. Nearly every surface is covered in impossibly intricate geometric carving, tiling, or plaster work. Many of these designs incorporate poetry written in stylized Arabic that blends perfectly in with the work of art as a whole. The cool, calm structure of the buildings only adds a sense of tranquility, with open patios dominated by fountains, palm trees, etc. In the end, I was on slightly grudgingly happy that I went.

We basically had a lot of down time in Granada; aside from waiting to get into the Alhambra, we lounged a few days so as not to rush ourselves and try to squeeze in another city. It also helped that I was suffering from a cold. Granada is not as picturesque as the other Spanish cities we visited, but it is still pleasant for finding a sunny plaza in which to enjoy beers and light, oily food in full sun. Perhaps my favorite venture in the city was when I climbed out of the city walls into the surrounding hillsides. I was happy just to be amongst the scrappy trees and flinty soil, looking up into the peaks of the Sierra Nevada, but on the way back into town I stumbled upon a little folded valley that was home to a settlement of people living in cave houses built right into the hillside. These varied in class from having patios, doors and chimneys to basically being burnt out holes in the gulley wall. Once I returned to the city proper, I discovered that there were actually a number of more "legitimate" cave structures housing restaurants, bars, even a museum, but I preferred the scrappy hillside hovels much more.

We finally got out of Granada on a night bus to Lisbon, Portugal. I imagined it would be difficult to tell the difference between Spain and Portugal, but I was very wrong. Aside from being linguistically disadvantaged here, we have seen many other differences. The
city of Lisbon is beautiful in ways the Spanish cities are not. The buildings have an older, more weathered texture to them, and most are covered in the most attractive tiling. Colorful patterns dance and swarm over at least 45% percent of the building facades. Red tile roofs are much more common, and the contrast of bright and drab makes the whole place look like a photo gallery. We have spent our days in classic T&T style, just roaming up the hills, down the hills, around the next corner, down that little street with all the grafitti, etc. On our first day I encountered the biggest, saltiest dish of assorted vegetable and pork products I have ever been challenged with in my life. I never leave an empty plate, but despite the deliciousness of this "typical Portuguese" food, I must have left at least a third on the table. The restauntuer seemed pleased that I couldn´t conquer his meal. Aside from that, we´ve been stocking up on last minute gifts, souvenirs and bottles of cheap red wine before making our reentry.

So ends our 19 months outside of the empire. Am I anxious about returning to the United States? Of course. Coming across big crowds of American tourists in Spain and hearing that chatter, that cadence of speach has been a little jarring. Am I excited to return home? OF COURSE. There are too many people, places and things that I miss too much in my home country to make me too apprenhensive. So, america, here we come!