The Greatness of Granada, Part 5: Final reflections
It’s funny, because when I think back to our time in Granada it feels like a different time and place, even though as I sit here contemplating the holiday, I do so still surrounded by Spain. Of course I always knew that Mallorca was very different from Andalucia, but Granada has something about it which marks it out from the rest. It might be that very distinctive perfume of arabia which wafts around the street full of oriental musk and spices. Or perhaps it is the fact that wherever you turn, the imposing ochre silhouette of the Alhambra is never far from view. Granada is a city whose surroundings are baked like the crunchy top of a Crema Catalana, but whose inner heart beats with a lazy vivacity, and whose lifeblood is the range of mountains whose outline is like a theatrical backdrop to the city-show, and whose icy heights provide the fresh water which runs through Granada like a god-given lifeline.
This final post of my Granada adventure is more of a reflective musing, sharing those photos which I like, but which somehow never slotted into my otherwise tidy rendering of our city trip story. So here you will find a few ghoulish gargoyles, plenty of sunbaked landscapes, a fountain or two, and a panoply of architectural details. All combined they are the well-spiced ingredients that make up the visually rich, exotically perfumed city of Granada.
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