We stayed at a simple pension, near the old Jewish Quarter, Realejo, which was perhaps the least interesting and least lively of the three main neighborhoods in central Granada. The other two are the Christian and Moslem (Albaycin). Our pension was at the base of the road that leads up the hill to Alhambra: the Moorish castle, government seat and pleasure house. On our first full day, we walked up to the Alhambra where we bumped into the choir’s tour and thus the kids. Here are some pictures from that enjoyable morning/afternoon.
The above photo is taken from the Generalife, the royal gardens, orchards across from the Alhambra.
And several other photos from the Generalife.
I suspected that cat was fishing without a license.
For even better pictures of the Generalife and Alhambra click here.Here is a very effective mobile mouse trap used exclusively on the palace grounds, pleasant demeanor not required.
Here are some of the choristers with their chaperone, leader, and teacher outside of the Juan Carlos V addition to the Alhambra. The group named themselves the 'recon squad.' They were delighted to take in the sights in their unique and youthful manner under the steady and mature supervision of a masterful guide and protector.
This was taken on the grounds of the Alhambra.
And what is a fortress without some cannons?! 
This picture below attempts to communicate the fascinating effect of perfectly circular buildings/ampitheaters. When one stands in the center, one's voice reverberates stereophonically around oneself. So, if you are inclined to talk to yourself, and like what you hear, you could happily install one of these forum like structures on your palace grounds.
Well, the rest of the day was spent relaxing, walking, reading and resting. Actually, I think this was the afternoon that I, at least, went back to the bus station across town to buy our tickets to Seville. I walked and caught several buses to the station, got the tickets, and decided upon a simple, less arduous taxi ride for my return trip. Just before speeding away, I was somehow motivated to look at the ground just outside the door of the taxi where upon my billfold lay. Stopping the cabbie, I picked it up grateful for all the many protections that are provided us by our guardian angels.
That evening, there was another choir performance. We, my fabulous and well travelled in-laws and a fellow from the school shadowing his daughter and wife on the tour, had been invited by friends to meet up with them at their apartment rental in the Albaycin area prior to the concert. They are thoughtful and kind people and had prepared for us a wonderful spread of cheeses, olives, bread, wine and slices of a Spanish delicacy, thinly sliced aired cured ham. Here is picture of a nearby deli where the ceiling was veritably loaded with the stuff.
Interesting to see, delicious to eat. I've been told that hanging ham like this not only saves space and ages the ham, but also testifies that the shop owner isn't kosher and shouldn't be ransacked or otherwise ostracized for being Jewish.
Our hosts took good care of us. They had even scouted out a lovely restaruant for us to dine at after the performance. It was a very nice meal and a pleasant evening with them.
After our preconcert get together, we headed to the performance at the Basilica of Juan de Dios. Here is a picture of the Basilica’s retablo. The choir sang a few paces in front of this backdrop.
Believe it or not, I met a man named Juan de Dios in the Basilica of Juan de Dios. We were seated next to one another, again great seats just a few rows from the front. After getting comfortable, and being early, there was some time to visit before the concert began. We chatted a little here and there about various things: the choir (he was impressed that they weren't charging admission), politics, recently elected Obama, Clinton’s trip to Granada years ago, and about the Basilica, of which he is very proud. San Juan de Dios is co-patron of Granada along with Santa Maria. I think the original Juan de Dios was Italian, and after becoming a priest, his journeys and service to the poor brought him to southern Spain.
The performance was lovely, so much so that during it, I had resolved for several reasons to try and give them a standing ovation. So, after the last song I jumped to my feet, I was very near the front, and clapped standing like only a one and half armed guy who decides to do such a thing can, with gusto. I was proud of the choir and their directors. They were pouring out their talents and discipline for these strangers who had welcomed us strangers into their lives for the sake of beautiful music. The world, at moments, can be such a beautiful and marvelous place. I look forward to heaven where I’ve heard it is like these moments multiplied by great magnitudes ALL THE TIME! Oh my.
I said goodbye to my new friend Juan de Dios, a very devout Catholic man, and he told me that he had decided that he would meet me the following morning for the choir’s mass at the Granada Cathedral, which he did. The cathedral is a magnificent (huge) building and the liturgy was again very dignified and meaningful. There is not much like the comfort of being a traveler in a strange land and finding that the symbolism and ritual of prayer is common, more accurately universal. I love being catholic. My life doesn’t make sense any other way.
One could sense the same of Juan. He came late to mass, sat next to me and we participated in the liturgy together. In Spain, some of the standing, sitting, and kneeling moments differ from the American church and as a congregation we were a little confused and unsure of what to do next. I like to kneel and dear old Juan knelt alongside with me even though I knew no better and the Spaniards were standing or sitting. Oh well, one of the downsides of tending to sit up front. Either way, we all sent up our meager and humble prayers together during mass. Mine were principally for a young classmate of my middle son, who had fallen critically ill at the time. I also prayed for a friend of mine, one of the best men I am privileged to know personally, who will probably never see Spain in person. I also thought a lot of my two grandfathers, wonderful and old European types, who would have loved to have been there with me, but both of whom have died in the last few years. I was travelling for others and in spirit was joined with others as well.
For these men young, old, and gone, I prayed and the church was full of the choir’s ethereal music. At one point, the acoustics were such that the choir’s voices resonated behind me though the choir was situated in front of me and to the right. The sound was clear, crisp, bright and coming from behind me! Haunting and playful, the notes saturated the space filling our humble hearts with a touch of greatness. Thank you for the singing!
After mass, Juan was ready to guide me around the cathedral and environs. Unfortunately, we had to walk back through several meandering city blocks following the choir in order to collect up our respective children for the first ‘parent’ day of the trip. By the time, I collected up the kids. Juan had to go and my personal tour never happened. We exchanged addresses and said our goodbyes. He is a father and grandfather and perhaps a widower. Above all, he struck me as a sincere and devout man in love with the beauty of his Church and neighborhood. Here is a picture of the two of us.
The kids and I then managed to take in a few sights without our well versed or local guides. (My in-laws, excellent travel companions and guides, had returned to Madrid the morning of the mass in the Granada Cathedral, and Juan de Dios had made his exit.) The kids and I walked the neighborhoods around the cathedral, got helado -- my daughter has a memory for delicious spots she previously noted while in town on the tour -- but mostly we just enjoyed the sun and the common life offered in the adjacent plazas.
Here is a picture of the Granada Cathedral. The buildings are rather close near the huge cathedral in Granada. This is best picture I have of the outside.
The following day, after the kids had departed to Seville, my travel mate and I took in the Capilla Real, the small but richly appointed resting place of Isabel and Ferdinand, and the heir to the throne and his wife. Photos were prohibited, so I don’t have any pictures of the immense and intricate carved marble burial covers that rested over the crypt. In the chapel, but especially in the sacristy there was a plethora of marvelous artwork. Most notable among them were several by van der Weyden as well as a stunning Dead Christ in the Tomb by Perugino. We took our time here, allowing various tours to glide past us. The interior of the chapel and the sacristy encouraged a reflective mood and the opportunity to absorb some of the history and richness of the lives of the great monarchs and their commitment to endowing a lasting structure, artworks and relics for the town of Granada. It was a great way to close out our visit of the city.
The next post, Part 3 of 4 will be on Seville. I should have it posted by Sunday.
