Granada tres

Another rainy morning. Eddis and I took the hop on hop off train (it's actually a series of bus carriages tied together). We made our way down to the river I visited yesterday, but first we drove through a forest surrounding the Alhambra, where I snapped this gate.

By the time we got off the bus/train, the sun was out, so we had a lovely walk along the river with a couple from Dublin called Mary and Joe. When they arrived in Granada, the custom agent they met was called Jesus. A favourite Irish saying is "Jesus, Mary and Joseph" – so they had a good laugh at that. Joe is very, very funny and has a brilliant accent, so I enjoyed his stories.

We had tea in the square below Alhambra then got back on the bus/train to get to the top of Albaicin, where the views of the ciy are wonderful. Then we walked downhill back to the hotel, stopping for lunch along the way.

Eddis went to the hotel while I headed back into town. This square is near the hotel, which is less than a 10-minute walk from the centre of town.

I retraced part of the hop-on bus route to revisit areas I wanted to explore. First was a shopping district where the gowns in the windows were stunning. I didn't realise all the shops close from 2-5, so I wasn't tempted into actually buying anything (I don't happen to need any gowns anyway). I enjoyed walking through some of the beautiful squares full of cafes. Next on to Realejo, the Jewish quarter.

I have a friend in Binghamton who wants to move to Granada to retire. I first told her she should go to Albaicin. Then I decided Realejo is better. It's quieter and has better restaurants. The narrator on the hop-on bus said all the locals eat at the tapas bars in Realejo. I also saw my first vegetarian restaurant.

I did a bit more shopping at the souk then headed back to the hotel, taking a photo of the cathedral on the way.

In the evening we had an amazing dinner at a restaurant attached to the bull ring (I had pasta with mushrooms and veg in a gorgeous sauce). It's odd eating a vegetarian meal at a bull ring, but no one looked at me funny. The Spanish diet is very meat centric (lots of Iberian ham, for instance) so I ate a lot of potatoes over the past week. But they are done in olive oil in a way that makes them melt in your mouth.

After dinner we had a flamenco dance performance, which was amazing to watch. They seem to enter into a trance as they dance. When the hard heels of their black shoes strike the wooden floor, it sounds like gunshots. Their arms gesticulate wildly and their fingers either snap or curl and uncurl. There is no pattern to the dance, just free form bursts of energy and intensity. You have a clear sense that a story is being told, but you're not sure of the actual plot. There was also a flamenco guitarist and a singer, both of whom added to the drama.

We left in high spirits and, after the short walk to the hotel, sat in the lobby as no one wanted to say goodnight. Mary sang a song her mother taught her about the old bog road. It's about an Irishman working construction in New York when he learns his mother has died. It's quite sad. So I sang a funny song about a sailor returning to his ship in women's clothes because his were stolen.

And so our trip concluded. The people in the Republic leave at 8 a.m. tomorrow for their earlier flight, leaving the northerners behind as we don't need to leave until 3 pm for the two-hour trip to Malaga, from where we fly at 7 pm.

18 March