The Daily Diary of a Wandering Restaurateur
The Short Road to Granada

All good things must come to an end and once again it is time to move on down (or up) the road, this time to Granada.

We said our goodbyes to Nerja, bailed the car out of the parking garage (cash only!) and set the GPS for Granada, only about 90 minutes away with motorway (75mph) most of the way. The road ran along the coast for a ways then headed north toward the Sierra Nevadas. It seemed strange to see snow after all the heat we have experienced, but in its way it reminded us of home.

We finally found our way to the hostal we will call home for the next two days. It came well-recommended on the Internet and while it doesn't look like much from the outside ... well it doesn't look like much from the inside either! Still ... the room is small but clean, the air conditioning and plumbing work, the Scandinavian owners speak good English and are helpful as can be and it's an incredible deal for the money!

We settled in to the hostal and found safe parking for the car. Margene wanted to see the cathedral but we arrived during their afternoon siesta break. So we split a sandwich at an outdoor cafe and wandered the medina (Moorish market) next to the cathedral. Narrow alleys, tiny stalls crammed with goods ... it was the Tangier trip we had to pass up. But they had scarves for sale all over so you know where I was ...!

The cathedral re-opened at 4pm so we paid the four euro fee and wandered in. It was wonderfully cool inside but I couldn't tell if that was natural or enhanced. It felt good either way. I am not into religious theater so my take on places like this is certainly from a different perspective than the faithful ... but I have to acknowledge that the Catholics really know how to do it up right!

For all its historic structures, Granada is still a working city with all the highs and lows of a place that's been around a long time. The white building appeared to be a consulate of some kind while the building immediately across the street was covered in graffiti ... as, it seems, was most everything else that wasn't under constant on-site surveillance. Strangely, the busses were pristine ... but to my way of thinking, the graffiti cheapened the whole town.

After a brief siesta, we headed out about 8pm for a light bite at a bar on the edge of the old Moorish quarter. The place was close, the owners were nice, the tapas were just OK. Still, it was all we really wanted to eat.

[Itinerary Page]

© 2012 Restaurant Doctor