“¿Quieres apresto?”

The view of Granada from the Generalife
gardens at the Alhambra..

After my trip to Granada last weekend to celebrate Mary’s birthday, I must say that it’s becoming increasingly difficult to choose a favourite Spanish city. Who knew that Spain had so much to offer? I’m loath to admit it now, but before I moved here the extent of my knowledge of Europe’s fourth largest country – the language of which I’m merely studying to gain an undergraduate degree in, you understand – stretched only as far as to let me think that the few places I’d visited (Torremolinos, Benidorm and Barcelona) gave a more or less accurate reflection of what Spain is all about: sun, sea, sand and perhaps a smattering of culture here and there... if you look hard enough for it.

How ignorant (or misinformed, to be kinder to myself) I was. In the few short months I’ve been here, I’ve visited Madrid, Valencia, Toledo and Granada and come away from each with culture coming out of my ears. Spain has so much beauty, in so many different forms, that when you stop to think about it it’s truly breathtaking.

A snapshot of the Alhambra
 and its stunning backdrop

This only truly dawned on me when some of my students (I’d been telling them about my latest trip after they’d demanded: “Helen! Talk to us!”) asked me what the best place I’d visited in Spain was. I was stumped. How does one choose between the charming narrow cobbled streets and rustic buildings of Toledo; the delicious paella  and sandy shores of Valencia; the cosmopolitan and cultural whirl of Madrid; the stunning natural beauty of Granada; and, of course, the eternally unique and beautiful Cuenca? The truth is, I couldn’t choose if I tried – I’m just grateful I’ve had the opportunity to experience all these places.

But enough pondering; I must tell you more about Granada! Thanks to its relatively close proximity to Morocco, it’s a city with many Arabic influences, from the shops lining its narrow streets – brimming with ethnic jewellery, elaborately patterned lampshades and richly coloured silk pashminas and harem pants (the latter of which I couldn’t resist when I spotted a particularly comfortable looking purple pair... perfect for lounging around in on lazy days!) – to its Middle Eastern cuisine and, of course, the impressive Moorish palace for which it is famous, the Alhambra.

A typically symmetrical courtyard
within the palace

A glimpse of the snowy Sierra Nevada

Naturally, there was no direct route to Granada from Cuenca, so we gave ourselves a head start by staying in a hostel in Madrid on Thursday night. The next morning, we caught a 5-hour bus to Granada, where we met Mary (the birthday girl) and Krista. On Friday night we had a disappointingly bland meal in a mediocre Moroccan restaurant – with hindsight, it was quite obviously a tourist trap and not ‘the real deal’ – which wasn’t the best start to the weekend, but after a much-needed night’s sleep and a hearty breakfast the next morning to re-fuel, we set off for the main attraction. Having booked tickets in advance, we caught a bus which bounced and jolted its way rather precariously up the steep, winding streets and dropped us off right outside the Alhambra.

Beautiful Granada, as seen from the
palace which overlooks the city

The sun was beating down from a cloudless blue sky, and inside the grounds it was picture-postcard perfect with its manicured lawns and hedges, orange trees, pretty little fountains, carefully arranged flowerbeds and tall palm trees. The palace itself – or palaces, as in reality there are several different buildings and there’s so much to see that it takes all day to do it justice – straddles a hilltop with a cool majestic ease, overlooking the whole of the city, its architectural splendour effortlessly complementing nature’s magnificent backdrop. And what a backdrop it was: in the foreground, tall and slender cypress trees nestled among whitewashed houses with red rooftops; in the background, the rugged snow-topped mountains of the Sierra Nevada, one of Spain’s most popular skiing destinations.   

An elaborately carved ceiling inside
the Alhambra: an example of the
amazing attention to detail

If you can tear your eyes away from the view for long enough to look around the buildings themselves, the attention to detail that awaits you in every floor, ceiling, window, archway and courtyard is extraordinary.  The more you look, the more you realise how meticulously planned every aspect of the palace’s construction was, from its aesthetically pleasing symmetry right down to the elaborate carvings on the stonework.

After five hours, we dragged ourselves away from the Alhambra, our legs and our camera batteries exhausted. On the recommendation of a friend of Mary’s, we caught another bus up to the old town, to the famous district of Albaicín. We timed our arrival perfectly to coincide with sunset, and as we climbed the steps to the packed out Plaza San Nicolas, we soon saw what all the fuss was about. We were confronted with a stunning view of the Alhambra in all its glory, this time from afar. It seemed to be melting away with all the reds and purples and oranges of the sunset, and though it may sound excessively whimsical, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so at peace and in awe of the world as I did in that moment.

The Alhambra at sunset, as seen from the Plaza
San Nicolas in Albaicín

That evening, I made it my mission to seek out a decent Moroccan restaurant to satisfy our still-present craving for Arabic food after the previous night’s letdown. Having read several encouraging reviews online, I decided on a restaurant called Arrayanes, which was so authentically Moroccan that it didn’t even serve alcohol (!). Thankfully, the food was exquisite and even my concerns about the lack of booze were put to rest when we discovered the delicious homemade lemonade with fresh mint. It was so good to eat houmous again – practically a staple for me back in the UK, but unsurprisingly difficult to locate in Cuenca – and the chicken tagine with lemon and olives also went down a treat.

All six of us 

So, that was my magical weekend in Granada! Unfortunately since then things have somewhat gone downhill for me. After the warm sunny weather in Granada, the temperature dropped dramatically almost as soon as we got back to Cuenca; we even had some snow! As a result, I came down with a sore throat and a cold on Tuesday and had to take the rest of the week off work. Elena very kindly took me to the doctor on Thursday, who confirmed that I didn’t have tonsillitis (for once) but told me I needed to rest, drink plenty of fluids and ‘stay away from other people’. Revolutionary stuff...

I’m still feeling pretty rough, so the last four days have consisted largely of sleeping, staring into space, sneezing, coughing, drinking various different liquids and eating chicken noodle soup and cornflakes. The most sociable thing I’ve done all week was cooking a 3-course Valentine’s Day dinner for some of the girls on Monday, as all of our significant others are elsewhere in the world and it seemed silly to sit in our respective houses alone when we could be enjoying each other’s company. 

Natira, Sara and Jaclyn about to
tuck into my romantic Valentine's feast

Since then, the highlight of my week has probably been a trip to the dry-cleaners, where panic set in when the woman asked me: “¿Quieres apresto?”, to which my answer was inevitably “¡¿Qué?!” as a baffled expression formed on my face. After this, she assumed I couldn’t speak Spanish (it’s somewhat disconcerting when one doesn’t know a very technical term and as a result one’s whole ability to speak a language is dismissed), I explained I could but wasn’t familiar with this particular word, and she proceeded to explain that it was a treatment that they used on coats such as mine, and would cost me an extra €1.30. Still not altogether clear on what it actually was, but keen to rescue myself from further embarrassment, I hastily agreed, thrust the money at her and made a swift exit.

I told Ana of my ordeal, and after consulting several different dictionaries (most of which rather vaguely defined ‘apresto’ as ‘preparation’), we finally came across the word I was searching for. So, next time you take your coat to a Spanish dry-cleaner and are offered ‘apresto’, you will now be able to nod smugly for you shall know that they are asking you if you would like ‘starch’. It’s okay, no need to thank me now...

¡Hasta luego!