Last day in Sevilla...and the Fetmans take Granada

Monday, June 19

Woke up on Monday morning, did some last minute packing, checked for any last items, then headed downstairs to check out and head out. It was a cloudy, dreary, and yet warm morning marking my last moments in my ‘third home’. We went downstairs, had some confusion getting a large taxi to take all of our ten suitcases (oy)…what can I say, I don’t know the Spanish word for ‘mini-van’! Ah well. It all eventually worked out and we cabbed it over to the train station Santa Justa. The cab ride wasn’t very sad, surprisingly. Just strange. I could distinctly recall the feeling I had upon first riding into Sevilla in a cab. Time flies, man. Time flies. However, as I said, I was ready to leave. I had done everything that I needed to do in Sevilla and it was time to go. It was time. We got to the station an hour early before our 11:50 train to Granada. We bought the tickets, chilled out, and eventually headed down with our mountain of luggage to load up the train. The train, luckily, was nice and spacious, so we were able to make it work. The massive amount of baggage is a schlep, but not a terrible burden, luckily. So we loaded up, got our seats, and slept for most of the 3 hour ride. Goodbye, Sevilla. Goodbye, home.
We got to Granada at around 3. It was hard to find a large cab, so I had to call the cab company, and they somehow hung up on me. I dunno. So we decided to get two cabs to the hotel. No problem. We loaded the two cabs and headed to our hotel, San Gabriel. I booked this hotel through Cheaptickets.com, the only hotel that I didn’t book through a Spanish hotel booking website. According to Cheaptickets it is within walking distance of the Alhambra and the Arab district. I had originally wanted to stay in the NH hotel that I stayed in with my program back in February, but it was booked up. So I relied on the Cheaptickets description and went with San Gabriel. It all seemed fine and dandy until our cab suddenly started to climb the foothills. We had been in the cab for twenty minutes in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. We even passed the Granada city limits. Huh?? Then we pulled into the San Gabriel—a nice hotel in the middle of nowhere next to an abandoned gas station deep in the mountains. It was so secluded that moths flew all around and a gang of cats hung out on the step. Next to the hotel was a lot full of rented cars. This did not look good. Disillusioned, we unloaded the cabs and walked in. I asked the woman behind the desk if this was, in fact, the San Gabriel that we had booked. Well, it was. I asked if there was some sort of transportation service back into town, and she said no except for rented cars or taxis. This was a nightmare. I didn’t know what to do. The plan was to get a hotel right in the heart of the coolest part of Granada and this just wasn’t the case. However, there was nothing that we could do. Because the hotel was booked through Cheaptickets, it was already paid for. So we had to stick with it. We got our rooms and headed up. The rooms were pretty basic and nice, the best part was our nice balconies with picturesque views of the mountains and the nice hotel pool. So that wins. After settling in we decided to head down the mountain to town. I asked the concierge if the Arab district was within walking distance, and she told me that it would be about a ten minute walk. She gave me directions to follow the highway all the way down and we’d be there. No big deal. We decided to give it a go.
To make a long story short it was an hour long walk. An hour long walk down a highway sans path/sidewalk dodging cars rounding blind corners and turns. And there was no shade…we walked for an hour in the hot, beating, Andalucian sun. I was not pleased. Once at the bottom of the mountain highway (about a half an hour later) we were in the barrio Albaicín without a clue about where to go next. We tried using the map to find our way, but that just wasn’t working out. This was a nightmare. Not only was I upset, hot, tired, dehydrated, and sore, but also lost. I marched into a bar to purchase a huge bottle of water and get some concise directions. Done. Well, a half an hour later we finally found our way to Plaza Nueva, the bordering plaza of the Arab district that I remembered from my visit to Granada in February. Once in a familiar area my bad mood began to dwindle and I was able to enjoy a familiar place. Thank the lord. Well, I guess that our time in Granada would consist of many a cab ride. Oh well.We sat at a table outside one of the Arab restaurants in Plaza Nueva and went to town on falafel and shwarma. Yessss. That’s what I wanted. Oh, Granada, you make me happy. Shana fed pigeons the entire lunch. After our late lunch we wandered around the familiar streets of the Arab district where we engaged in a massive Arab shopping spree. I told my family to hold out on shopping till Granada, and now they knew why. We literally exhausted the Arab district…we were shopping for hours. Shana, particularly, loved the Arab district and its stores, like I kjnew she would. We have the same taste, what can I say? We were exhausted from all of the walking that we did, so we went to a cute tetería that was decorated like the Alhambra palaces. We got Moroccan tea and juices (I got coconut, avocado, apple juice…very tasty, interesting combination). There were a bunch of mix-ups with our order and I kept having to call the waitress back over. We eventually ended up with a small pot of Moroccan tea and a large pot of regular English tea, although they insisted that it was also Moroccan tea just steeped longer. Bullshit. One thing I will not miss about Spain: food service. It’s horrendous since they don’t have to work for tips. I’m excited for good food servers back in the good ole U.S. of A. Anyways, we rested for a bit, then walked around the Arab district some more to do some more shopping, walked around the regular plaza area, saw an old Gothic cathedral and such. Pretty neat. Then we headed back towards the Arab district for dinner. On the way we passed an old fountain attached to the Gothic cathedral. A 20-something guy and his dog were there, his dog was drinking out of the fountain and it was really silly and cute. So my mom stopped to snap a picture. Then the guy approached her and tried to grab her camera…luckily it was around her neck. He kept trying, though, and damaged the outer lens. My dad yelled at him and threatened him, the dude stood there saying, “You take picture of my dog! That’s my dog!” I started yelling in Spanish that she didn’t take the picture. We walked away and he followed us as if he was going to try to steal my mom’s camera again! Camera theft is huge in Spain, and this guy was using her taking a picture of his dog as an “excuse”. Ummm okay. So he was following us, holding the chain that was used as a collar for his dog. My dad kept yelling at him to get away. It was intense, it looked like they were going to fight. It was so scary. Luckily, after a few minutes, the dude backed off obviously intimidated not only by my dad, but also the large amount of people roaming around and staring. But if it wasn’t in such a populated area who knows what would have gone down. It was pretty scary. Well, welcome to Spain, family. I found it pretty ironic because last time I was in Granada Melissa got robbed, right in a populated area. Funny that my only run-ins with robbery have occurred in Granada. What’s up with that town? Anyways, we were all pretty shaken up, especially my mom. But we felt lucky and relieved that that’s all that became of it. Something much worse could have happened. Oy, Spain.
Once in the Arab district we searched for an authentic Moroccan restaurant. We were struggling, so I asked one of the women from a shop from which we had bought scarves earlier. She was really nice and guided us up the street to a restaurant called Arrayanse. The restaurant was really nice, great décor, great service, and great food. We had some Moroccan lemonade which I think had mint in it or something. It was good, yet strange. Mom and I got cous cous, Shana just ate some appetizers, and Daddy got something called a pastela which was delicious and stuffed with meat. It was hearty, yet sweet, and was served with what Daddy called “the best plum he had ever had.” The best part about dinner was the fact that the World Cup game was on—Spain vs. Tunesia. Spain is football obsessed, so even in the Arab district of Granada at a Moroccan restaurant people are gathered around the TV. We ended up sticking around the restaurant and watching most of the game—we saw Spain get the lead with two goals. Yesss. After dinner we planned on going to a tetería to get hookah and pastries, but we were just too tired from all of the day’s stress and walking. So we just grabbed a cab all the way to the top of the mountain. Before bed I watched my last ever episode of “¡Mira quién baila!” (and was able to show my family the wonders of my favorite Spanish TV show), blogged, listened to a lot of Whitney Houston with Shana (I got her obsessed now) and then went to bed. An interesting, yet good day in good ole Granada.