Andalucía to lose your heart

Door.* Barrio Albycín, Granada, Spain, 2009

In 2004, with minimal knowledge of Spanish, a carry-on bag and a small digital camera, I moved to Granada, Spain... and fell in love. Passion, mystery, effervescence, and sensuality intoxicated me, drew me in. I departed in tears a couple of months later with a copy of Cervantes short stories open in my lap (perhaps reading "La Gitana;" my Spanish had come a long way), determined to dedicate entire courses to learning about (Islamic) Spain during my last year of college.

In retrospect, I attribute part of my ability to engross myself in life in Granada, Summer 2004 to leaving technology and related trappings behind. As any shutter-bug will tell you, photographing life often means not taking part in it; and (painfully) I'd left my SLR behind that summer. Additionally, living alone with out a computer, Internet, television means you get out there. Meet people. It changes the rules of the game (back to the way they were). That one summer, I pretended - I lived - as though I were a "granadina." And - gasp - I learned Spanish really quickly.

Did I mention, too, that I fell in love with the place? That I learned every little pretty nook and best deal tapas place? That I had my favorite bars, cafes, churches, walks... and some good friends too. And I was there for about 8 weeks.

Sometimes your memory plays tricks. But to my delight, when I returned in 2009, even in the drearier winter months, my memories of beloved Andalucía proved true. On this most recent visit, I brought my camera. So finally I can share more about one of my favorite places.

*The door pictured is very typical of the Arab neighborhood that sits on a hill faces the famous Alhambra: the Barrio Albycín. The barrio itself is as magnificent in many ways as the old Moorish castle: beautiful to explore by day, mysterious to walk by night (with a friend). It's filled with wonderful charms around every corner, like this door: Doesn't it make you wonder what's inside? The metal workmanship - intricate and very typical of the southern Spanish region - at once seems to welcome the onlooker and yet firmly prohibits you from coming farther. It is just one of many subtle tributes to the coalescing Islamic and Christian cultures of southern Spain. Note, too, the green trim around the door as it contrasts with the bright Andalusian reds of the brick.