La Alhambra
Dear Readers,
Two questions came to mind while marveling at the intricate carvings of the Alhambra, the 800-year-old Muslim palace in the hills of Southern Spain. First, I was curious to know how many men, if not generations of men, had labored to complete the sprawling walls of chiseled Arabic script and decorative patterns that coat nearly every surface of the edifice. The carvings were amazing…or perhaps humbling is the right word. Were entire human lives dedicated to this work and this work alone? The minute detail, high quality, and sheer quantity of the work suggested a change to the old adage. “If you want something done right, do it yourself – or have thousands of your servants and subjugates do it for you.”
The second question I had was this: How quickly would we be escorted out of the Alhambra if Lou vomited all over the palace's marble floors, as she seemed dangerously close to doing at that moment? Would we be rudely shown the door, having just defaced perhaps the greatest historical structure on the entire Iberian Peninsula? I wondered how many tourists, or generations of tourists, had puked on these same marble floors through the centuries after questionable seafood the previous night. Lou was now a worrisome shade of pale, but she forged ahead, jaw clenched, through each successive room determined to see and enjoy this unique masterpiece of art and architecture. I smiled preemptively to the guards and kept a plastic bag in my pocket at the ready.
As readers have probably guessed, your correspondent has yet again found a loophole in the rules of the real world to exploit for some carefree globe-trotting. This time, we made a slight enlargement to the annual visit to Lou’s family in France. Normally this visit lasts only about a week, but we hoped no one would notice if we tacked on another twenty days to allow for some exploration of Spain. And of course, some skiing in the Alps would be necessary too, provided there was decent snow on the pistes.
Before delving further into the trip at hand, some editorial housekeeping is necessary. Since the last bulletin, mucho has happened to your correspondent and companion. Travel-wise, I had the chance to return to Guatemala as well as to visit Paraguay, both for work, but time constraints prevented any meaningful communiqués to readers. And anyway, these trips consisted largely of suit clad conversations in hotel lobbies and this is not the kind of starched-stiff image I would want to project of your correspondent in the field. However, some mentionable highlights along the way include visiting Pablo Neruda's house on an unplanned 8-hour layover in Chile, and taking an endless bus ride through the Paraguayan Chaco, a land whose surreal landscape and torturous climate seems to be the product of collaboration between Dr. Seuss and the Marquis de Sade.
On the domestic front, still more news. Lou and I both resigned from our jobs in DC and have moved to St. Louis. That's in Missouri, by the way. A full explanation for this possibly surprising move is beyond the scope of this publication. But I will say that it has presented me with an excellent learning experience by way of employment in the "family business", something that has seemed increasingly exciting in recent years. For Lou it presents an opportunity to experience life in the US Midwest, which I imagine is something like an American trying escargot for the first time. It seems totally unappealing, yet so many people claim to love it, so you’re willing to give it a try at least once.
Back to Spain. The Spanish know what is important in life. Unlike some of their European neighbors to the north, they don't seem overly concerned with esoteric questions about the human condition or the nature of the soul. A Spaniard, evidently, is quite content with a cold beer, some cured ham, and some notes plucked from a nearby acoustic guitar. Your correspondent felt instantly at home in this environment. We have thus-far hopped from Barcelona to Granada to the small towns of the Andalucian sierra. In each locale we have found a mix of friendly people who are willing to repeat directions several times, tasty food served in portions that allow you to sample everything, and lively streets teeming with people enjoying their cities until the wee hours. Unlike many of the developing countries described in these annals, Spain needs no embellishment - it is indisputably awesome.
It is currently rounding 8pm here. And while most Spaniards are still full from what they call lunch, your correspondent and companion are already hungry for dinner. So, we're off to wade through rows of hanging hams and trays of tapas and will report back shortly on noteworthy events whether cultural, gastronomical, gastro-intestinal, or otherwise.
Oh, are you still wondering how our Alhambra visit ended? You’ll be relieved to know that the marble palace floors escaped with only a few dusty footprints. In fact seeing Lou later that night, feeling so good she was indulging in a little sausage flambé, you’d never know how closely we had averted disaster.
Atentamente,
Your correspondent
Two questions came to mind while marveling at the intricate carvings of the Alhambra, the 800-year-old Muslim palace in the hills of Southern Spain. First, I was curious to know how many men, if not generations of men, had labored to complete the sprawling walls of chiseled Arabic script and decorative patterns that coat nearly every surface of the edifice. The carvings were amazing…or perhaps humbling is the right word. Were entire human lives dedicated to this work and this work alone? The minute detail, high quality, and sheer quantity of the work suggested a change to the old adage. “If you want something done right, do it yourself – or have thousands of your servants and subjugates do it for you.”
The second question I had was this: How quickly would we be escorted out of the Alhambra if Lou vomited all over the palace's marble floors, as she seemed dangerously close to doing at that moment? Would we be rudely shown the door, having just defaced perhaps the greatest historical structure on the entire Iberian Peninsula? I wondered how many tourists, or generations of tourists, had puked on these same marble floors through the centuries after questionable seafood the previous night. Lou was now a worrisome shade of pale, but she forged ahead, jaw clenched, through each successive room determined to see and enjoy this unique masterpiece of art and architecture. I smiled preemptively to the guards and kept a plastic bag in my pocket at the ready.
As readers have probably guessed, your correspondent has yet again found a loophole in the rules of the real world to exploit for some carefree globe-trotting. This time, we made a slight enlargement to the annual visit to Lou’s family in France. Normally this visit lasts only about a week, but we hoped no one would notice if we tacked on another twenty days to allow for some exploration of Spain. And of course, some skiing in the Alps would be necessary too, provided there was decent snow on the pistes.
Before delving further into the trip at hand, some editorial housekeeping is necessary. Since the last bulletin, mucho has happened to your correspondent and companion. Travel-wise, I had the chance to return to Guatemala as well as to visit Paraguay, both for work, but time constraints prevented any meaningful communiqués to readers. And anyway, these trips consisted largely of suit clad conversations in hotel lobbies and this is not the kind of starched-stiff image I would want to project of your correspondent in the field. However, some mentionable highlights along the way include visiting Pablo Neruda's house on an unplanned 8-hour layover in Chile, and taking an endless bus ride through the Paraguayan Chaco, a land whose surreal landscape and torturous climate seems to be the product of collaboration between Dr. Seuss and the Marquis de Sade.
On the domestic front, still more news. Lou and I both resigned from our jobs in DC and have moved to St. Louis. That's in Missouri, by the way. A full explanation for this possibly surprising move is beyond the scope of this publication. But I will say that it has presented me with an excellent learning experience by way of employment in the "family business", something that has seemed increasingly exciting in recent years. For Lou it presents an opportunity to experience life in the US Midwest, which I imagine is something like an American trying escargot for the first time. It seems totally unappealing, yet so many people claim to love it, so you’re willing to give it a try at least once.
Back to Spain. The Spanish know what is important in life. Unlike some of their European neighbors to the north, they don't seem overly concerned with esoteric questions about the human condition or the nature of the soul. A Spaniard, evidently, is quite content with a cold beer, some cured ham, and some notes plucked from a nearby acoustic guitar. Your correspondent felt instantly at home in this environment. We have thus-far hopped from Barcelona to Granada to the small towns of the Andalucian sierra. In each locale we have found a mix of friendly people who are willing to repeat directions several times, tasty food served in portions that allow you to sample everything, and lively streets teeming with people enjoying their cities until the wee hours. Unlike many of the developing countries described in these annals, Spain needs no embellishment - it is indisputably awesome.
It is currently rounding 8pm here. And while most Spaniards are still full from what they call lunch, your correspondent and companion are already hungry for dinner. So, we're off to wade through rows of hanging hams and trays of tapas and will report back shortly on noteworthy events whether cultural, gastronomical, gastro-intestinal, or otherwise.
Oh, are you still wondering how our Alhambra visit ended? You’ll be relieved to know that the marble palace floors escaped with only a few dusty footprints. In fact seeing Lou later that night, feeling so good she was indulging in a little sausage flambé, you’d never know how closely we had averted disaster.
Atentamente,
Your correspondent
posted by Dan at
2:54 PM
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