El Centro de Granada, Spain

I’m sweating after finding my way up the windy, cobbled roads of Albaicin and I haven’t even taken a step in my first Flamenco class at Carmen de las Cuevas. My dancing shoes are strapped tightly and the music is turned high. Mimicking the instructor’s fluid yet intense movements, my attention is on my mental metronome. Rhythm immediately becomes a priority; my lack of Spanish ability is suddenly irrelevant. At night, the caves around Granada are transformed into dens of duende: the nirvana of Flamenco overwhelms until “olé!”s are thrown at the performers. Each day of stomping and night of compas (clapping) embeds the 12-beat pattern deeper into me. The challenge and the charm of Flamenco in Granada have me in a headlock. I’m already plotting my next trip here.

Add a Comment

The Spanish tradition of tapas, the small between-meal dishes served at bars and restaurants, began inadvertently as an insect repellent – or so one story goes. To prevent flies from taking a dip in their beer, Spaniards would cover the glass with a plate or piece of bread, which was eventually topped off with tasty morsels by generous bar staff. The tradition has grown and developed so profoundly that tapas joints from typical bar grub to chic cosmopolitan hot-spots scatter the globe. In Granada, however, the tradition of free tidbits with a drink has held strong. Nearly every bar in the city dishes up a selection of mini-dishes at no charge with each drink ordered – making sure to change the order with each customer's next round so as not to repeat a dish. From ham and cheese melted on mini-bagels to chicken croquettes with aioli sauce or patatas bravas, there's no need for dinner – a bar crawl in Granada is sure to leave you satisfied. But beware, a few days of tapas on the house will taint the beer-ordering experience anywhere else in the world. “No free food?”

Add a Comment

When the windows are shuttered and the air is stilled—somewhere between 2PM and 5PM—go for a walk in the center of Granada. Not on the main streets and not in the big commercial areas but on the narrow walkways that run between the homes and the smallest shops. Plaza Cuchilleros is a good starting point. Climb up the winding stone paths and down the steep slopes, and there, in the silence of the siesta, you will find things you would otherwise have missed—wonderful murals and graffiti, both worthy of quiet contemplation; small, emptied courtyards with friendly, tinkling fountains; richly carved doors embellished with doorknockers in the shape of patiently waiting hands; quiet churches, inviting passageways, and other hidden treasures. Discover these things on any still afternoon, and by the time the guitarristas return to their posts, having slept away those few midday hours, you will understand the peacefulness behind their playing.

Add a Comment