Grab power, tax the people, build a palace, loot the treasury followed by conscripting the peasants,
attacking the enemy, killing, conquering and building another fortune. Repeat as often as the people will
allow it or until the next power-hungry despot succeeds.
Forgive us for the negativity but this scenario plays over and over; the only change is in the constantly
improving technology and slick propaganda. So whereas we are enormously impressed with man's ingenuity
over the years, we are rather depressed at the behavior. We believe we don't (hope) come across negative
in the blogs but beg your indulgence for the rant after a palace and fortress visit. In order to get
the feeling out of our minds, we'll borrow a favorite phrase from John Muir: "We hear the mountains calling..."
The pictures below provide a mix from a fairly tough hike on the outskirts of the Sierra Nevada National Park
and city scenes in the south of Spain. We walked to and around the Alhambra Palace and fortress in Andalucia,
Granada. The Moors constructed these edifices in the 9th, 11th and early 14th centuries.
Early stages of the climb in the Sierra Nevada.
Walking up to the Alhambra as we cut through the city.
The rain in Spain missed this 'plain'...Jen arrives at the plateau after a tough climb.
Granada, the city, viewed from the Alhambra.
Our command of the local language has hardly improved since we last wrote. For that matter, the locals
have done nothing to improve their grasp of English either. We have a stand off brewing and we could mention
who's not going to win. Wherever we go, except for Southern Spain and in Peru thus far, English is well
understood, even in Britain. We thought it was only the French who were not fond of the English...and
maybe the Quebecans.
A genuine gripe we have is finding street names. What ever happened to placing them where a motorist could
see them while watching the car ahead, the traffic lights, pedestrians and weaving bikes. Why position them
high up on buildings and inconsistently? Only asking.
Our garage door is giving problems. On arrival at the gate, one of us jumps from the car...um hobbles,
inserts said key into lock and turns it. Day 1 it worked. The following day, said lock resisted.
Someone mentioned it was the heat. Aha! Siesta time for people and locks. We parked in the street and walked
up four flights. Then we realized we might need to buy parking permits. Ran down stairs and tried lock again.
Of course, the editor forgot to pack WD-40 which would have repaired the mechanism. Lock did not budge
no matter what language we tried, including French. We spoke to bistro manger who knows our landlord but
not English—no luck. When we returned to the garage door for the third time, we found and introduced
ourselves to the pharmacist who was unlocking it, after her siesta—we followed her in to park the car.
A little later, realizing we are growing old, accelerating somewhat in Spain, we ran down the stairs again
to check whether the lights of the car were switched off. Everything in the building is on a timer. Lights
go off quickly so we have to turn on the headlights. Of course, we were thinking that sometimes we forget
to reverse the process. Thus far we are fortunate because the toilets are not an automatic flushing system
or we are limiting our time 'on potty'. This green world can drive one potty—aha! Double use of the word.
Back to gate and of course, the key did not turn the lock. A revisit to the young pharmacist who surprisingly
also does not 'have' the English. By gesticulating (and begging) she showed us a neat trick—the woman has potential.
We returned up the flight of stairs for the fourth time and bathed for the second time in thirty minutes.
We were so looking forward to the next day's physical activities.
Waiting for room service at the turnaround point.....the wait is probably indefinite.
The inclines in Granada are like San Francisco, sister cities?
The same city at dusk.
We drove to the trailhead without missing a beat or a turnoff. However, the closer we approached
the endpoint, the more dangerous the driving became. It astounded us to be traveling on a supposedly
two-lane road winding down a mountain which could barely cater for a single small car. We hoped we would
not face oncoming traffic. Until five minutes from the end we did not. However, when we saw a truck approaching,
did a double-take. At that stage, on our left was a cliff-face, to our right, a river 50 feet below. Jenni,
who is obviously comfortable with sheer drop-offs, panicked as she looked to her right. She jumped from the car
while we were a foot from the edge. Thereafter, the truck driver explained how we were going to negotiate
the maneuver but not before folding in the side-mirrors of both vehicles. He then guided me to within inches
of the edge. By that stage, the car was well positioned for a river wash. Jenni obviously took a photograph.
(See below.)
Tight! The story above relates the situation although the picture may do a better job.
Jen! I think I found an outside loo in Spain. Double relief at Cabanas Viejas.
Natural color on the mountains.
Enter at your own risk. Two-way traffic but no parking in the tunnel, please.
The city begins to cool...hopefully, we will, too.
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
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