On the very day we didn’t want the local weather forecast to be spot on, it is. There’s lots of spots. Wet ones. It’s a miserable, grey and overcast start.
We’ve been told many, many times how warm and friendly the Spanish people are. Not seen much of that yet. Majority of our generation walk around as if they’ve got a nail stuck in their foot. Miserable mouths curved downwards. Look-alike Robert de Niro’s. Auditioning as understudies. You politely acknowledge their presence as you pass. Their sideways glare, silently threatening. “You talkin to me?”
By the time the 390 has dropped us off in downtown Granada the downpour has petered out. An 11.30am slot into the main Alhambra Palace booked. We’re nice and early. It’s not quite 10.15. Told not to be late or we can’t enter. It remains dry throughout our visit.
The Nasrid Palaces are a mass of superb intricate and inspired carvings. Wood, stone and plaster patterns feast the eyes. Minds mystify. The amount of detail is overwhelming. Photo fingers galore. No one wants to miss the perfect “snap”. Many trying to capture the professionals’ perfect images. Adopting strange contorted positions. Digital exposures expose. No crevice safe. Unable to beautify the ancient beauty. With over 100 pics taken between us, in 150 minutes, better to let some of them do the rest of the talking – for a change.
Two cheeses . . . maturing nicely . . .
