Granada, Andalucía, is home of the most important single historical site in Spain.
There are few places as beckoning as the Alpujarras when approached from the south.
On the drive up, the whitewashed villages play hide-and-seek, one minute appearing to sneak out from behind a ridge on the mountainside, the next moment sitting proudly, and spectacularly high, on the slope beneath a gigantic peak.
The three superstars are Pampaneira, Bubión and Capileira, which ascend like polished steps towards the highest points in mainland Spain. Tourism has had an effect here but the villages remain perfect examples of rural Andalucía, in the most immaculate setting in the southern foothills of the Sierra Nevada.
I first crossed to Lanjarón, an agreeable one-street town whose spring waters are drunk nationwide. There’s a splendid old spa here, fed by six mineral springs and where an array of liquid therapies can be tried.
But it’s the Poquiera Gorge, with its three glistening pueblos, that captivated me.
From up here on a clear day, some claim to be able to see the
mountains of Africa. I couldn’t, but there was plenty else to beguile me,
not least the walks along the gorge with the peaks of Veleta and the
11,400ft Mulhacén wearing white capes above.
Take the road round to the west of the Sierra Nevada and you’ll come to
Granada, home of the most important single historical site in Spain. Here,
in the 13th century, the Moors chose to create an extraordinary monument
that remains virtually intact today.
The Alhambra is a one-off, hovering like a mirage from a glorious past on a hill just above the city. Its fortress, palaces, church and monastery are each deserving of serious attention, so to find them all within the same formidable walls is remarkable.
The range of architecture and decoration here is breathtaking, especially in the exquisite Nasrid Palaces where I was mesmerised by the intricacy of the wall carving and mosaic work, and the genius of a design that allows an ethereal light to float through the rooms and patios.
It would fill an encyclopedia to detail all the Alhambra’s treasures, but to record the place in a single image in the mind, go up to the equally splendid Generalife Palace and gardens, slanted across the narrow valley, and look back at the complex, honey-gold against the backdrop of the white city. Better still, view it from the San Nicolas mirador up in the old town, with the snowy peaks behind. Those are views I won’t forget easily.
With such a rich experience, it would be easy to overlook the rest of Granada city, so I walked down to seek out other possibilities.
In the narrow streets around the cathedral, I heard mournful singing and the unmistakeable chords of flamenco guitar. I followed the sound to find a busker, an elderly gent whose earnest voice and fluid playing created a haunting ambience in front of the huge church, with its impressive Baroque façade.
Close by in the old town, in the shadow of the Alhambra’s Alcazaba fortress, I came across the Arab Baths, an important social meeting place 900 years ago, and today’s equivalent, the authentic tapas cafés by the small river.
Granada’s Moorish past remains a strong influence and shops selling rugs, spices and lanterns are more redolent of a Middle Eastern souk than a Spanish city.
With time, I’d recommend the short bus ride to the La Cartuja monastery, which has a truly extravagant Baroque interior; the statues, gilding, marble and frescoed cupola are breathtaking.
From the city I headed west, crossing the remote high plains to Alhama de Granada. The familiar name denotes Arab origins but the most strident feature is the yawning canyon, on the edge of which the town abruptly ends.
I walked through the old quarter to the picturesque 16th-century church of Carmen, from where there is a wide-angle view of this natural wonder. I noted the various paths down and through the chasm, something that will have my full attention on my next visit.
Driving through the north part of the canyon brought me to the town’s Balneario, where a smart spa hotel takes full advantage of ancient thermal springs.
The hotel — which houses original Muslim baths — was closed, but a few local families were enjoying bathing in the river, in early January, where the warm, therapeutic waters exit the building. Very Moorish.
By John Wilmott
The Telegraph
The Alhambra is a one-off, hovering like a mirage from a glorious past on a hill just above the city. Its fortress, palaces, church and monastery are each deserving of serious attention, so to find them all within the same formidable walls is remarkable.
The range of architecture and decoration here is breathtaking, especially in the exquisite Nasrid Palaces where I was mesmerised by the intricacy of the wall carving and mosaic work, and the genius of a design that allows an ethereal light to float through the rooms and patios.
It would fill an encyclopedia to detail all the Alhambra’s treasures, but to record the place in a single image in the mind, go up to the equally splendid Generalife Palace and gardens, slanted across the narrow valley, and look back at the complex, honey-gold against the backdrop of the white city. Better still, view it from the San Nicolas mirador up in the old town, with the snowy peaks behind. Those are views I won’t forget easily.
With such a rich experience, it would be easy to overlook the rest of Granada city, so I walked down to seek out other possibilities.
In the narrow streets around the cathedral, I heard mournful singing and the unmistakeable chords of flamenco guitar. I followed the sound to find a busker, an elderly gent whose earnest voice and fluid playing created a haunting ambience in front of the huge church, with its impressive Baroque façade.
Close by in the old town, in the shadow of the Alhambra’s Alcazaba fortress, I came across the Arab Baths, an important social meeting place 900 years ago, and today’s equivalent, the authentic tapas cafés by the small river.
Granada’s Moorish past remains a strong influence and shops selling rugs, spices and lanterns are more redolent of a Middle Eastern souk than a Spanish city.
With time, I’d recommend the short bus ride to the La Cartuja monastery, which has a truly extravagant Baroque interior; the statues, gilding, marble and frescoed cupola are breathtaking.
From the city I headed west, crossing the remote high plains to Alhama de Granada. The familiar name denotes Arab origins but the most strident feature is the yawning canyon, on the edge of which the town abruptly ends.
I walked through the old quarter to the picturesque 16th-century church of Carmen, from where there is a wide-angle view of this natural wonder. I noted the various paths down and through the chasm, something that will have my full attention on my next visit.
Driving through the north part of the canyon brought me to the town’s Balneario, where a smart spa hotel takes full advantage of ancient thermal springs.
The hotel — which houses original Muslim baths — was closed, but a few local families were enjoying bathing in the river, in early January, where the warm, therapeutic waters exit the building. Very Moorish.
By John Wilmott
The Telegraph
