"...get the deranged poodle in oval office to... sit and stop shitting in the fucking house..."

Blogging at the end of the day

...questioned/ranted Jon Lovett on my favorite podcast, Pod Save America (check it out, you won't be sorry). Yes, I'm still listening to all my political podcasts as soon as they drop. This will probably change when Stella gets here tomorrow(!!!) but until then I've got a lot of alone time and I'll spend it how I like. 


Sept 12, Tuesday

Instead of staying up late to write & post my blog entry from the day as usual, I turn out the light the instant I feel the least bit sleepy. And I win!! 8 1/2 hours. It's a whole new world when I wake up. 

Finally feeling like myself again, I want to do a regular Bianca thing. I want to exercise. I know I've been walking my ass off, but I want  mindless, music driven activity, not focused, where-am-I, legs-as-transportation. 

I hike up the heart-stopping stairs from my place to Mirador San Nicolás and I catch the view of The Alhambra just a few minutes after dawn. WOW. I share the view with a dirty hippie couple having breakfast and a foursome of teenage French girls DEFINITELY making this their dusk instead of their dawn. It's magic. 

Magic

I remember thinking Cuesta del Rey Chico, which is the way I walked home yesterday from Alhambra, felt pretty steep going downhill. I hike up it and get to appreciate the beauty of the walk in the cool, brisk morning air instead of the stifling heat and I freak out. I'm hiking by a fortress that is from the mid-13th century LIKE IT'S NOTHING. Like it isn't mind-blowing how much this piece of history has witnessed, and even borne, and all like IT'S NO BIG DEAL. 

I'm hiking. By a 13TH CENTURY FORTRESS. Still can't get over it.

I cannot get over it. The Alhambra gets an average of 8,000 visitors per day. People have died there. Lots of people! People were born there. How many murderers have walked through my favorite Rosaleda garden? How many people were heartbroken, in love, grieving, broke, wishing they were someone else? And I'm just hiking around it, like it's not the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me. 

I did it! I ate in the plaza! (Salmorejo & lamp stew, yum(

After, I go home and take a two hour nap having obviously popped something in my brain. 

Since I didn't finish my blog post yesterday, I'm not allowed to leave home until I finish. It's 330p before I head out for lunch. It's my last day in Granada and there are so many things I still want to try! I go to a locals' restaurant deep in the Albayzín called Casa Torquato. 

Going out to eat is borderline painful for me under the best of circumstances because I'm shy and I hate eating out alone. Here in Granada, the restaurants bleed out onto the plazas and waiters run around like crazy. I can't figure out the system to sitting down, I don't want to bother the busy waiters, and every time I've asked the bartender if I can sit somewhere they look at me like I'm a moron and say yes, of course. Then I order from the bartender, sit down at the cafe tables that line the building instead of the pretty plaza tables, and force the bartender to wait on me. Bartenders don't like this or me. 

This is the tame room

I am determined to figure this out. I mean, I ALREADY have it figured out- I KNOW what the deal is: you sit and wave down a waiter for a menu, bark your order, yell for the check, pay and leave. But my social anxiety kicks in right around the time the restaurant comes into view, and this maims any Spanish I know and makes me need to ask permission for everything. So when I say I'm determined to figure this out, what I mean is, this time I'm gonna sit in the goddamn plaza and deal with the waiter like a local. 

Instead, I ask the busy waiter if I can sit first. He looks at me like a moron and says yes, of course. And just like that, I'm sitting in the pretty plaza! A lamb stew tapa comes with my sangria and it's everything I dreamed real tapas would be. I order salmorejo, a thick gazpacho soup the restaurant is known for. The soup comes with jamón, thick pieces of salmon, and a healthy pour of olive oil. It's perfect for the hot day. 

I feel like I should see a sight today so I head to a monastery. Why? Because Rick Steves mentioned it looks like whipped cream inside and it's got some especially gruesome paintings. It's outside the town center so I take a city bus. Next time I whine about wanting to get away from tourists, remind me to get on a city bus. 

Martyrs are so nonchalant... art by Friar Juan Sanchez Cotan 

I fumble my way to the Monasterio de la Cartuja, but it's not entirely my fault. The monestary doesn't have a sign and lots of things have crosses on top of them here. 

Inside, there are indeed some gruesome paintings! I love when religion gets gory, because it ain't all hymns and holy water. You've also got your martyrs, your Kirk Camerons, your zombies...

Also inside? The best church I've ever seen. It's a thousand times better than the Cathedral for its shameless, blinding, colorful, throw-it-all-at-the-wall-and-see-what-sticks (everything), decorative devotion. Words can't do it justice, so scroll for pics. PS, I'd forgotten about Steves' whipped cream reference until I was standing in the middle of the church, and sure enough... the interior could have been squirted from a can of whipped cream.

Whipped cream... I love this room.

On my way home I get some fruit for the morning and of course begin to eat all of it on my walk home. I bite into a guava- it's pink inside! It's beautiful! I have to Instagram it! Where's my phone?!

I run back to the fruit stand which had been in the midst of closing when I bought my wares ten minutes before. Thank God it's still open. I look for my phone... I keep looking... MY PHONE IS ON ITS SIDE HIDING BETWEEN CRATES LIKE IT WANTS TO START A NEW LIFE AS A FRUIT VENDOR'S PHONE. I grab it, raise it in victory, and announce, "Mi telefono!". Customers murmur approval at my win. Stupid phone.

View from my window at dawn

I didn't mention I went to the market today and SAW GIANT FISH HEADS, did I??

"Oh, I knew him... and he was funny." Seriously though, this is Saint Bruno.

More whipped cream! I couldn't get enough of this room.

"Catedral...catedral...CAHH-TEHH-DRAHHL..."

...said a woman to me because she wanted directions and my slow Spanish didn't understand her fast Spanish. "Ah, catedral!!" I replied.

From Alcazaba, that's my neighborhood behind me!

Sept 10, Sunday

I wake up and I feel terrible. I blow my nose to discover the bloody lemon lime-colored news that I have a sinus infection. (If you didn't know I wrote horror stories before, you do now.) I don't take the news too seriously, assuming I'll feel better when I get moving. I'm traveling after all! Taking a day off on vacation is impossible! Starving children in Africa don't get to visit Granada! I have to go, go, go!

I walk across town to Cafe Fútbol, the reported BEST PLACE for churros and chocolate. As the warm, rich, thick chocolate and the hot, hard yet tender, churro crunch explodes most of my pleasure centers, I realize: Pleasure centers aside, I feel worse. I wanna go home. 

Coffee + Chocolate + Chorros = happy face

I treat myself with saline nasal rinses, sleep, and ten episodes of The Originals. (Seriously, thank you Julie Plec.) Thank God I went to the store yesterday. I don't have much of an appetite and I make it through the day on cheese, olives, an apple and wine. It sounds nicer than it was. By nighttime, I'm restless enough to get some ice cream from Los Italianos, an Italian family owned shop that is a short walk away. I order one of their specialties, a cassetta. It's a thick slice of an ice cream block which features layers of chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, and fruit and nut loaf. I'm happy I tried it, but next time I'm getting gelato. 

Sept 11, Monday

I feel a little better, not amazing, but today is Alhambra day and I have a 1:30 appointment for my Palace entry.

Inside Alcazaba

The Alhambra is a Moorish Palace and fortress that is an example of Moorish civilization before the end of the Christian Reconquista in 1492. The whole Alhambra experience consists of Palacios Nazaríes

 (the Moorish palace), Charles V's Palace, Generalife Gardens, and Alcazaba (the fortress). Highlights and tidbits from my visit:

Inside the palace: Courtyard of the Myrtles

-Charles V Palace is pretty cool. It's a ruin, I appreciate it, and after I take a panorama of the inside, I'm good to go. 

-Alcazaba is the most ruined of the ruins, as this fort defended the city of 2,000 Spanish Muslims within Alhambra's walls. Napoleon also did a lot of damage, having stationed his army here in the 1700s.

-From Alcazaba you can see San Nicolás scenic point where everyone takes their pictures of Alhambra. It tickles me to think about Alhambra tourists taking pics of San Nicolás tourists & vice versa. We're all in each other's pictures somewhere. 

-There are kittens here!  

-Bomb sniffing dogs go through our belongings before they let us into the Palacios Nazaríes. 

-The palace blows me away. I probably would have gotten more out of Charles' Palace and the Alcazaba if I'd done the audio tour because I love all the details and stories that give ruins context, but I just wasn't feeling well enough to do more than wander through. I'm happy the Palace exceeded my expectations. 

-Somewhere in Palacios Nazaríes I stop taking pictures. Nothing can capture the feeling of standing in these rooms surrounded by such lush artistry of design. You just have to come to Alhambra and see if for yourself. 

-My favorite, favorite thing about being in the Palace is the hands-on display. Oils & dirt from even the cleanest hands ruins the wood, tile and plaster so they put interactive displays where you manhandle actual slabs from the room you're in. The wood is smooth and warmer than the tile. The tile is cooler than the plaster, and the plaster almost feels like velvet. The hands-on display really hits my sweet spot.

-There's a point in the palace where the Christians added on in the 16th century. The style is  a giant yawn compared to the Moorish portion.

-Generalife Gardens make me gasp and smile over and over. I love gardens, and these are beautiful.

-One garden has a labyrinth feel and reminds me of The Shining! It is, of course, my favorite.

Inside Charles V's Palace

By the time I’m done, I’m starving. I want something different and NOT TAPAS, so I find a tetería, tea shop, on the Arabic style stretch in my neighborhood. I get falafel and a stew I can’t remember the name of. It’s delicious but also hot on a hot day, so after I hit Los Italianos again for a glass of horchata. With that, I’m all better!

View from lunch

I need food for the house since I ate all my snacks yesterday, but I don’t want to shop anyplace I’ve already been because I like to make life difficult. This isn’t true, but it feels true as I walk and walk and walk and can’t find any place that sells anything I need. As I walk by the Cathedral for the millionth time since I’ve been in Granada, I swing inside to check it out on a whim.

When I tried to make my Alhambra reservations last week everything was sold out for the month (they recommend reservations three months in advance FYI). I was able to score my last minute reservation by buying a Granada Card, a tourist card for the city that gets you entry into most of Granada’s top sites. So, the Cathedral, it is. Highlights:

Guess what this is... 

-WOWZA!!!! was my first thought.

-Gold, gold, gold. 

-The Cathedral is a touchdown dance made manifest, hence it’s in-your-face everything about it. It is literally built on top of a destroyed mosque. Exactly where the people of Granada had worshipped before as Muslims, they would now worship as Christians. 

-They worship Mary almost as much as they worship Jesus. I approve.

-The audio tour is pretty dry, but they describe Adam and Eve as “our first set of parents to die from sin” which makes me smile.

Experiencing textbook examples of Catholic (Renaissance) art and Islamic art in the same day is a mind whiplash. From Islamic art, which features beauty in functional objects but rarely statues or pictures of people, because the Islamic doctrine upheld that only God could create living beings, to the ostentatious gold and realistic statues, not only of Jesus, but Mary, Adam, Eve, bishops, evangelists, Isabel and Ferdinand, the list goes on. 

Imagine having to live through a shift of perspective like that. How do you force someone to worship an entirely different doctrine? I wonder how many Muslims kept up their own prayers in their heads, and I wonder how long you could do that before you surrender or flee.

Alcazaba

Palacios Nazarenes: So many examples of the carvings in wood & plaster

Palacios Nazarenes: Arabic script reads "only Allah is victorious" repeated 9,000 throughout the palace

My favorite, favorite, favorite thing to do in Alhambra is touch these!

Palacios Nazarenes: This is a ceiling!

Hallway to the "new" 16th century addition by the Christians, zzzzzzzzzzz...

Palacios Nazarenes: Patio de Lindaraja

Generalife Gardens: next to the summer palace

Twisted enough to remind me of The Shining :) 

Arabic lunch stew

One of two organs in the Cathedral

The Virgin Mother

"It's a bummer that Kirk Cameron is such a biblehead..."

...I text my high school besties when I read about his religious take on hurricanes. (Hurricanes are punishment. According to Kirk Cameron's understanding of the bible, I mean.) I loved Kirk Cameron in middle school and fantasized about being best friends with Candace Cameron and marrying into the family. I'm actually pretty happy now, that it never worked out.

Sept 9, Saturday

I look so bad at 5am
I needed a picture of it?

I sleep! For three hours, which is progress. 

A few months ago my dad revealed he'd had traveled in Southern Spain and that Ronda was his favorite town. Since then, I've worked to get Ronda into my itinerary, and that had been part of the appeal of renting a car. I could make Ronda a day trip from Granada and return the car after, because as I confirmed yesterday, having a car when you live in Granada's tourist hot spot is a real pain in the ass. 

I snap fully awake around 5 which works for my Ronda trip. I easily find the parking garage where I left my car yesterday. It turns out driving and walking in circles, lost and anxiety-ridden, imprinted certain details and landmarks in my mind. Is this what it's like to have a sense of direction? You people are so lucky!

Proud of my budget bfast of leftover cafe bread
& olive oil I swiped from my dinner last night.  

I start my car. It's not good. It won't hold an idle. At all. I start and stall and start and stall and start and stall, etc, etc, etc. Shit, shit, shit.

I've had standard cars since I started driving and I've had lots of different mechanical problems, but I've never had this one. I assume the burning oil I smelled yesterday when I had to ride the clutch or roll backwards to my certain death was either a symptom or cause. I'm not too excited about overrevving again, but its the only way I can think to get the hell anywhere. 

I rev and burn my way in fits and starts out of my parking spot, through the pay gate, and up, YUP, A STEEP INCLINE, out onto the street. All I can think is, thank God it's 630 in the morning and streets are sleepy. I can't say the same for the groups of partying students who walk the streets in packs. A guy offers me a driving lesson in Spanish when he hears me riding the clutch past him. "No!" I snap. Fuck him. 

Gorgeous market, fresh everything!

Once I get to a thoroughfare I can drive on for longer than 10 seconds without having to idle, the car behaves better. But not road trip better. I try to make peace with skipping Ronda, but honestly, I'm upset about it. I wanted to see what my dad saw that made him love the town so much. 

I stop to fill my tank. The car has a rough time, but finally starts back up. I get to the Hertz two hours early to wait for them to open. I park on the street and write-

By the time the Hertz opens, I start the car with dread. It's fine. I drive around and around, because streets make no sense here, and it runs beautifully. I return the car anyway. I guess I could have traded the car in and still gone to Ronda but I'm zombie tired now from sleep deprivation and stress. I need a fat nap. 

I walk back home - nothing is more than a 15 or 20 minute walk away in the city center - and stop for some groceries, enchanted by the display. It's nice to experience the city in the early morning hours without a lot of other people. 

Fried or die! Best damn fish ever.

I get some sleep, but mostly I self care with a long shower (guess who was too tired to shower last night after sweating through her clothes and the straps of her backpack?), fresh plums, and The Originals. The recoup time feels good. I wake up after noon and baby step back into my day. 

I like doing Rick Steves walks the first days of any trip because they are an excellent orientation to each city. Especially for me and how I still can't tell my right from my left sometimes. So I do the Old Town Walk and the Albaycín walk. Tidbits-

-Granada is stunning, confusing and fantastically chilled out. There is no sense of agenda or pressure unless it's coming from me.

-I eat the best fried fish I’ve ever had. It’s a mixture of random sea creatures including calamari, sardines, shrimp, different fish bits, and more. I eat heads, I eat tails, I eat it all, and I do it without any sauce anything. THAT is how tasty this is.

-I see Granada versions of John Cusack driving a cab and Nicky Hooha working construction.

-Rick Steves said there would be stray cats around. I saw ONE. What a disappointment.

-Granada isn’t humid like Barcelona and the 80 degree temps feel perfect.

-My home is so convenient, I'm able to swing by for a water bottle refill/pee break mid-walking tour.

Paseo de los Tristes- sad name for a gorgeous
walk along Darro River

After dinner I have an appointment for an Arab bath at Baños Arabes Aljibe at 10p. When I read in my book that Arab baths were a thing, I booked an appointment immediately to make myself feel better about Ronda. It's my dream that a relaxing bath and massage will be the magic bullet that gets me to sleep for longer than three hours.

I worship Korean spas and their soaks, and an Arab bath is a lower key version of that (and you wear swimsuits because the baths are coed. Boooooo.) Appointments are 90 minutes and only a certain number of people are allowed to be in the bath area at once. They are huge into silence and relaxation. The bath area is 7 different pools, all ranging in temperature from flat out cold to deliciously hot. 

Agree. Stop machismo. PS, stop spray painting ancient churches ffs.

Aljibe is beautiful inside: Moroccan style with very low light from the cold pool playing against the ceiling. It is candlelight dark around the other pools. Moroccan music competes with the sound of running water for the soundtrack. The experience is heavenly...

Except, obviously, for the two older couples who take pictures of themselves WITH THE FLASH ON and raise their voices over the soothing Moroccan music to hear each other. I fantasize about different ways to shut them up and I stay as far away from them as I can.

Here’s a PSA: If you ever go to any spa, shut the fuck up. Talking isn’t relaxing. Ever.

My hat protects my face and protects you from seeing the beautiful view of Alhambra

Alhambra from the Mosque and Islamic Center

I love this! PS, the statue is of a famous flamenco dancer

Originally a mosque, it became the Church of Santa Ana. This is the start of Paseo de los Tristes.

I love everything you see in this picture so much that I had to take a blurry picture of them.

"Ocho-seis-siete-cinco-tres-zero-nueve..."

...I translate-sing in the car. "Lo tengo, lo tengo! Tengo su numero del baño! Lo tengo, lo tengo, para buen tiempo llama-aaaaaah!"

Sept 8, Friday, Day 4

My Buddy and Me say safety first when driving & taking pics

I spend my last night of my first leg of Barcelona splitting a bottle of wine, a tub of ice cream (1/2 passionfruit, 1/2 dulce de leche, ALL YUM), and an evening of kitchen conversation with Paula. In the midst of chewing through topics like toxic friendships and work ethics, Paula observes, "Look how we come from different places but we have the similar experiences." We're all the same, kids. All it takes is a little conversation to discover it. I love that. I also love Paula's empanadas she made for dinner. 

My Buddy and I hike to the metro station after goodbye breakfast, hugs and kisses from Paula. She's family now! I'm so happy. 

Jet lag sleep waves look like
they're flipping me off

My Buddy has grown the tiniest bit since I got here. It's just some groceries but still. He's heavy and he's crushing my spine with each step. How am I ever gonna pull off a 'Wild' on the Pacific Coast Trail?! Desperate, I yank every available strap as tight as I can... ohhhhh, better. That's how this is supposed to be... 

My Buddy started out as My Dad's Buddy when he lived in Peru 20ish years ago, and likely many trips before and since. On a whim almost exactly one year ago, I decided to keep My Buddy instead of retiring him just because my dad couldn't use him anymore. In the back of my mind, it was also a move to introduce adventures big enough that My Buddy could join me. 

Speaking of adventure, today I drive to Granada.

I've read and heard about muggings and thievery in touristy places and I honestly haven't worried too much about it. Until today. The Hertz rental place is at the train station and is plastered with signs warning about different assault possibilities and ways I will be robbed. When the rep hands me my keys she warns me, never exit my car in the city. Especially if a pedestrian is warning me about a flat tire. They will steal my car and my belongings and to call her of it happens. Now paranoid, I wait to pee until I'm over an hour outside of the city. 

Cochita and I need a drink

Driving feels amazing! Especially once I get out of Barcelona. I love driving! I feel so free! There's a USB port in the car that lets me blast my Spotify from the car speakers! All is right in the world. 

Some tidbits from the trip:

-My car is cute but has like .75 horsepower. It's a standard and I downshift like crazy, and I still can't work up any pep. Thank goodness I'm highway driving instead of hill driving. Remember this for a later story. 

-There are pit stop-like areas immediately off the highway where you can get gas, food, park your car of you need a break and occasionally find lodging. It's wonderfully convenient! I think all exits advertising gas and food are like this until I add half an hour to my trip in a village of dirt roads and roundabouts trying to get myself back onto the highway. 

-The tolls are reeeeediculous. I pay almost 50 Euros between three toll stops. I'm not kidding. 

-I decide to only speak Spanish in the car, including when I sing along with my Spotify. It's super fun, I'm shockingly decent at it, and I get a huge kick out of shouting "QUE!" every time a rapper shouts, "WHAT!"

-I don't plan ahead correctly food-wise and I eat Doritos for lunch. They give me a crippling stomachache that lasts a few hours. My throat is also killing me because of allergies. If I wasn't having so much fun, I'd be super bummed to feel as sick as I do. 

They seemed like a good idea

At long last, I get to Granada at 730p. My Air BnB hosts gave me an address for parking my car that is different from my house address. When I check my map, the parking address is a mile and a half drive away from the home address- that can't be right... I check walking directions. It's still half a mile. I can handle that but it seems weird. 

I arrive at the parking address to find no parking at all. In fact, I don't see any parking on any of the streets I drive on, semi-lost. I drive to my home address- or rather, I try. My address is in Albaicin Quarter in the shadow if the Alhambra. Only taxis seem to be allowed in the tiny, stacked, tangle of streets. Okay, parking and walking it is.

This begins the worst 90 minutes of my day. I drive and drive thin street spaghetti looking for parking. Just like everyone else. I use Waze to send me to a parking lot and it sends me to the University at the top of a hill. I don't want to haul all 31 pounds of My Buddy up and down hills. I leave- I try to. My car encounters a hill so steep, I can only crawl, stall or roll backward. My car honestly doesn't have the power to crest the hill. I ride the pedals to hard, I assume I burn out the engine because the car reeks. Thank God I'm able to coast down the rest of the way. The car hates my guts now.

Lost in Albaicin

The pay lot I find is full. Cars get into line behind me before I can reverse out uphill to find another parking lot- it's probably best, I no longer trust my car to handle any inclines. We wait in a tedious one-out-one-in situation. It takes about fifteen minutes which isn't nearly as bad as I could imagine.

Food in the new hood

I strap My Buddy to my back and enter the labyrinth of walkways to find my home for the next five days. I follow turn by turn directions on my phone. I get awesomely lost. I pass the same restaurant 4 times, I turn in circles, I reverse and reverse, lots of it uphill, and obviously all of it hauling My Buddy. Jesus. Creezus.

I find the place. I can't even appreciate how nice it is. I just turn on the fan and lay before it, exhausted. I almost eat a protein bar for dinner and sleep for the rest of the evening, but I've only had an apple and those damn Doritos since breakfast so I force myself up and out for a plate of paella at the closest cafe I can find. 

I'm excited to settle in and really make this place home for the next few days, but for now, fingers crossed, sleep.

Road trip!

I deserve this.