THE FINAL JOURNEY

She tossed and turned but couldn’t make herself comfortable. She hadn’t got much sleep last night, having spent it lying down on the lobby floor of the Madrid airport. Despite that, sleep eluded her. She was on her way to Paris, but her mind remained back in Spain and the last ten days. It had been a wonderful trip – the best she ever had. Several reasons aided to make the trip so absolutely amazing. Since her mind was on an overdrive, she gave up all hopes of sleep and pondered over how much she had enjoyed the trip. What made it special?

Well, the first reason of course was that her dream had come true. Spain itself surpassed all her expectations. All that imagination and dreams she had about the place was nothing compared to the reality. Everything was better and more beautiful. The place was so wonderfully clean, fresh and bright – like happy summer mornings. Life was so convenient there – planned cities, metros, buses, clean tap water everywhere, maps and named streets to guide people, and so many more. It would be quite easy to live here, she thought. Life back home was a constant struggle – the traffic, the dust, the heat, lack of hygiene, the people ever ready to fight or be rude, the general chaos. Yes, life was definitely easy in Spain. But what will always remain with her was the people - their culture, their beauty, their smiles, their styles, their food and their conversation. It amazed her that people could lead such different lives just a few thousand miles from her home. 

Along with all that admiration for Spain, came the realization that she would never be able to live there. She would always be an outsider. People in Spain were very polite and helpful, but they were quite into their lives. Though it was a trait to be admired, she was used too the noisy and nosy people of India. Despite the fact that life would be easier Spain, she would be forever lonely with no one to talk to or gossip with in bus or train journeys and miss the warmth she felt from even strangers back home. She wondered if this is why it is called motherland – a place where you belong, even though it might not be the best place in the world. 

Putting those thoughts aside, she wondered over the other reason why the trip was so successful – it was the company. The trip wouldn’t even have been possible without her friend. But what surprised her was how much she enjoyed it just because of the company. Her previous trips with other friends had always been more messy rather than fun, trying to fit in each person’s whims into the trip plan. However, in this trip there were no arguments over where to go, when to go, where to eat, where to buy or any other fuss from either of them. There were no judgements, no comments. No need for approvals or disapprovals, no need to impress or express. It was almost as if they were each travelling alone, without being lonely due to the other person’s presence. When they were tired of the sight seeing, they could converse about their childhood days or other million things friends find to talk about. There was no pressure to conform to any expectations. She had rarely felt so free with anybody before. She once again thanked her luck to have such a friend with whom she could be totally herself. 

The pilot’s announcement broke her reverie. There were approaching to land in Paris, but this time she didn’t bother to look for the Eiffel Tower. But a casual glance at the window showed her the spectacular monument, looking quite tiny from that height. She smiled to herself at the irony. After a long and difficult immigration check in Paris, she finally settled herself on the long journey back home with a heavy heart. She realized that what made this trip special was because it was an adventure, a first time, a novelty in her life. The thing with first times is that you can never experience the same feeling ever again. You could do a zillion new and different things later on, but they will never match up to that first big adventure. She sighed at the thought. She was quite happy that she had experienced it and also sad because she would never feel the same every again. The exhilarating feeling was over - to remain in her memories. She slowly drifted off to sleep dreaming about Spain…..dreams similar to what she had as a child…...only this time she was in them.

MADRID & TOLEDO

She couldn’t stop admiring this capital city. It was a big city, but very unlike Barcelona. Something about this city was very warm, and alive. It didn’t look all business and money over here. Somehow this city, sort of exhibits the European life – the four working days a week, long weekends spent in adventures or pursuing hobbies or just reading under the warm sun in the park, getting together with friends and small expeditions to nearby woods or villages, or just pub hopping. This city seemed to be all about living.

They were put up in a quaint hotel in a bustling part of the city. Unlike the room in Barcelona which was all chic, modern and purposeful, this room had an antique touch – right from the elaborate curtains, to the rusty bath tub and the rickety beds. It smelled different too. They walked to the nearby Canalejas Square, and stopped to admire the place, the sculptures and people lazing around over there. Madrid had this wonderful mix of the old and the new in its architecture. It portrayed the gradual change over the past few centuries. There was an entire street, Gran Via which housed beautifully designed buildings of the previous century. Not to speak of the Royal Palace and the amazingly well maintained rooms which were open to public. She learnt there that the monarchs had been quite instrumental in beautifying the city in their times. Though her world history knowledge was close to zero, she could make out just from the landscape of the city that it was quite an important place in the past. 

Taking in the sight of the wonderful architecture, she wasn’t surprised to know that Madrid was one of the top European cities for art museums. Both of them quite well remembered their weird feeling after the visit to the Picasso museum and wondered whether they should venture into any of Madrid’s famous museums. But they had really admired the frescos on the roof of every room in the Royal Palace. Maybe they would be able to appreciate older forms of art and paintings better. They were right; the trip to the Prado museum took their breath away; literally. There were scores of rooms, each housing paintings from some very famous artists – names even ignorant people like her knew. The first few rooms completely awed them, and made them wonder at the artist’s skill and talent. After that everything went hazy, and the paintings merged with each other. Soon they were so tired that they could barely take a step. If museum wasn’t so classy, they would have just plonked themselves right there on the floor. However, they walked gingerly out, having seen barely half of the paintings.

Once out, they sat down on the beautiful lawns of the museum and rested their tiring feet. There were so many other people who were doing so. Now they knew why the museum didn’t provide any seating inside. They had provided acres of beautifully manicured lawns, for the visitors to relax and reminisce about their art collection. That was the thing about Madrid – its manicured lawns adorned with beautiful flower beds – they were everywhere, even right next to the busiest streets. They added to the beauty of the city greatly. That evening, they decide to have a look at a Spanish food market and had one of the most interesting times ever. That was the only place she had seen so crowded – with people from all ages and regions. The market sold everything – right from pulses and grains to strange looking sea creatures, from all kinds of meat and sausage to wines and tapas. It was fascinating to watch people in their elements and she realized that if one really wanted to know a place and its culture – they should go to its market!! Along with dinner they planned their next day – their last day in Spain. It seemed that it would again involve cathedrals, museums and palaces. She was beginning to feel she had seen them all and wondered what else to do to make it memorable. That’s when her friend suggested a trip to Toledo; a nearby world heritage site. That was one of the best decisions they had taken in their trip.

Next early morning, they reach the train station to catch the train and managed to get seats for the one which departed after an hour. With an hour to kill, they wandered around the station, and found a beautiful park after a while. It looked quite dreamy and fairy tale like in the morning sun, and they sat admiring nature’s best under a huge old tree. There were hares and peacocks wandering around without a care. It felt so peaceful - they never realized how long there sat there. A casual glance at her watch showed that there was just five minutes for the Toledo train to depart. She jumped to her feet and started running towards the exit, without any explanation. Her friend didn’t need it, he already knew the moment she started running. They had done it again; managed to get late for the train, despite being there much so much before time.  She hadn’t run like that for ages. Pretty soon out of breath, they reach the platform, with people staring at them all along the way. Luckily the train had not yet departed, but it did the moment they stepped on to it. 

Catching their breath, they settled down to a quite, fast journey, with her admiring the cleanl and very modern looking train. It was a short journey, and once in Toledo, they couldn’t stop admiring the beautiful view. It was by far the best looking town she had seen in Spain. It was old, quaint and had a rustic beauty which couldn’t be defined. Even the train station was wonderful, with its red brick watch tower, the intricate carvings and Spain’s specialty – the painted and carved ceilings. A sparkling river flowed softly around the city – it had an old creaky water wheel which looked like it was from another century. The city itself was on the hilltop and looked magnificent and picturesque.

 As they walked through the lanes of the city, they admired the beautiful, rustic looking houses which were all in different shades of brick red and stone. There were pretty plants and flowers peeping from the window sills and balconies of the buildings – the only life beings in those inner lanes. Everywhere they encountered narrow and winding lanes going up and down; they got lost pretty soon. They enjoyed being lost and letting the mysterious looking lanes take them anywhere.  Pretty soon they were were quite shocked to see a car racing down to them, there was barely any place for them to stand when the car passes them. After a while they got used to it. Every time a car would pass, people would lean flat on the walls – to let it go. It didn’t trouble anyone, and they found pedestrians guiding some cars through the difficult turns and stretches. Once again, she admired people’s nature – they don’t seem to get angry or irritated with things like this – so unlike India. The cars were very different too – they were small, all hunchbacks and looked quite posh. She would have been terrified to take such a lovely car in those narrow, winding lanes. 

They made their way to the Alcazar fortress – the highest point in the city, and spent some quite moments enjoying the view of the city and the river from there. They could make out three of the four entrances to the city and imagined the history of the city. From there they could also see the famous medieval bridge across the river. It looked so quaint, old and beautiful that they decided to walk down to it, but had to give up halfway down as they were quite tired. Toledo was quite hot, almost felt like they were back in India. Instead they walked around the local market and ventured into the souvenir and jeweler shops. Before long the day was over and they made their way back to the train station – in time. They sat quietly on their way back and relived the moments in Toledo. They knew that that sunny day in one of the most beautiful places on earth would remain with them forever.

Once in Madrid, they had an entire evening to while away, before they caught flights to their respective destinations the next morning. They decided to follow the young crowd of Madrid, and went pub hopping. It was quite fun, and exciting – to sit among them and sip a drink. She drank in the sight of people having fun with their friends and enjoying the young ambience in the clubs they went. There was not much dancing as there were conversations, and she couldn’t stop staring and listening to the beautiful people. But as they walked back to their hotel, they became quite again. The trip was over and very soon, all of that would just be in their memories – and photos. They would back to their respective work places to resume normal life and after some time, Spain would look like a dream. To her especially – she knew there wouldn’t be a trip like this for a very long time. They had also come to like each other’s company quite a lot in the past week and relived their school days during that time. She knew she would miss her friend and wondered if they would ever do such a trip again. 

Maybe….Maybe not…..

BARCELONA - CONTINUED

Her friend had to give a lecture at some academic institution, so they parted ways on their second day in Barcelona. She walked down the streets, armed with map in hand and the Serbian couple’s suggestions in mind. For the first time completely alone in a big strange city, she couldn’t but feel awed as she imagined how far she was from home; despite the fact that some things were similar. Cars and buses filled with people travelling to work, shops opening up their wares to people, crowds of people waiting to cross the streets. Yes, in Barcelona the preference was not as much to the pedestrian as it was to time. So, people had to wait for their turn to cross streets. No car would stop for them. It was all business and money here. She could make that out. She was overwhelmed with everything around.

 

She quickly made her way to the tourist places, to get away from that busy and mindless city life. She wrapped her sweater closely around herself, to keep warm against the chilly wind. She couldn’t believe it was this cold in April. She made her way to the famous Arc de Triomf, at the entrance of Park Ciutadella. It was a beautiful pathway, with lovely structures and lamp posts. She was amazed by the number and variety of museums around that place. There was a museum for chocolates too. Having wandered into a couple of such museums, she got bored and made her way to the beach.

It was quiet a small beach, with soft, almost white sand. The sea was a beautiful dark blue - a color she had never seen before. It contrasted beautifully with the light blue of the sky. There was something quite dreamy about the sunlight in Spain. It felt light and golden – not like the burning, scorching sun in India. Despite the chilly wind, the beach was filled with people, even in the middle of the day. There were lots of women with their children playing around them. She was shocked to see people in their swim wear, daring to venture into the sea, despite the cold. They took off their clothes without any inhibition, while she could never even peel off her sweater in public without feeling as if she was stripping. She saw some people making shapes on the beach – beautiful sculptures, made painstakingly with sand and water. She wondered how any could invest so much mind, time and effort on something so temporary, so transient in nature. They must be so sure of themselves – these artists.

She met up with her friend at the beach and they both decided to make their trip a little more adventurous by going into the nearby casino. That was the first place they had to show their identity proofs to get in; they looked too young to be going into casinos. The inside was quite fascinating, with machines so colorful and lit up with lights – each made up to enchant people and get them to play. She wanted so much to try her luck at one of the machines, but was too embarrassed with all the people staring at them. They quickly made their way out; as they were sure the management would have thrown them out pretty soon. Out of the casino, they made their way to the Ciutadella Park and admired the beautifully kept lawns, trees and shrubs. But the best feature of the park was the fountain. It was a huge structure with very intricate and beautiful carvings. It was a very tranquil site, with swans and ducks swimming around and pigeons cooing from the life size carvings of flowers and people. The size of park was immense, and after some time they gave up trying to explore the whole place.

As they walked back to their hostel they heard loud cheers emanating from a nearby pub. It was an English pub, her friend informed her. Not really understanding the significance, she insisted on entering it. Once again they had to prove they were above the legal age to drink at the entrance. The inside of the pub was exactly as she had seen in the movies – dark, crowded and people staring into the TV. It pictured a live match between Barcelona and Arsenal, which being hosted by the Camp Nou Stadium in Barcelona that day. She had never seen people so involved into the game, not even in the Cricket World Cup in India. Soccer fans are crazy, she thought. With beer mugs in hand, people were cheering and booing loudly at the players. They had to get out before some physical fight broke out between the supporters of both the teams. They walked on to a nearby Spanish pub, and were surprised to see none of such action there. There were just a few people calmly following the match on television, without making any noise. Different people, different cultures.

The next day, they crossed the huge city to see Camp Nou, Barcelona’s famous stadium. She had never been to any athletic stadium, and she had no idea why they were going to this place; her friend had insisted on it. Once she got in, she realized why. The immense size of the stadium astonished her, not to speak of the size of the field. Never having seen an actual full size soccer field before, she wondered at the stamina of the players who run around it a thousand times in a single game. They must be super humans. The stadium was still being cleaned up after the previous night’s game – looking at the size and state of it, she realized they would take a few days for it get over. After a brief tour of the stadium’s museum, they rushed back to their hostel to pack. There were flying back to Madrid for the last leg of their journey. She couldn’t believe it had already been a week since she came there. How time flies!!!

To be continued…..

 

BARCELONA

 There were no oranges in the trees in Barcelona. This was the first thought as they walked towards their hostel where they were to stay for the next few days. After a long and tiresome journey in a very cramped bus, they were happy to be on their feet and walk the long way from the bus stand to their destination. In the dark, chilly night, the city looked very similar to her place back home. It had big buildings, few trees and large roads. Everything looked modern and purposeful. She sighed, because she expected she would not enjoy this city as much as Granada and Seville. She was as wrong as she could be.

After a much needed good night’s sleep, they woke up to a bustling hostel. She went down to the common kitchen to see young people from almost all around the world. She met an incredibly sweet and innocent looking couple from Serbia, from whom she got the inside information about places to see in Barcelona and the damages to the pocket involved. They gave her some good tips, as they were on a really low budget like her. Soon they got to talking about India and Serbia. She was shocked to know that their currency was valued even lower than the rupee. She realized the significance of that on their trip, and somehow felt connected to them. Talking to them was a pleasure - their English was so beautiful and clear. She would have loved to chat with the other inmates too, but everyone was quite busy with themselves and not really interested in making conversations. 

They started the day searching for the Picasso Museum. Well, neither of them had much knowledge of art, but then Picasso was a famous name. It was fun walking through the streets of Barcelona. In the broad daylight, it didn’t so much look like the cities in India. Here the buildings were huge, and quite European in structure. The architecture was quite amazing, and she couldn’t stop taking pictures of them despite the fact that they were just normal buildings. Finally they reached the street which housed the Picasso Museum. She hadn’t expected that a museum can be located in such a small lane, that it was accessible only by foot. However, even such lanes were named as well as marked on the map. Also the names of even the tiniest and shortest lanes were marked on the buildings – so it was close to impossible to get lost in Barcelona. Their visit to the museum was short; modern art was not something they had developed a taste for. They were more excited about the fact that they got a discount on the entrance fee because they were less than 25 years old.

Their visit to the Gothic centre was much more fruitful. The cathedral here was quite beautiful and majestic, but the famous Familia Sagrada was absolutely breathtaking. It was immense, and still under construction, even after a 100 years of work. She admired the dedication those people had to their work. It was evident in the architecture, the carvings and the statues. There was a long wait for entering the building, and they were not interested in spending hours in a queue. After having seen many cathedrals and churches till now, they both had decided that the outside of the structure would be far more interesting and unique compared to the inside. Hence, they circuited the structure slowly, drinking in the sight of the manmade beauty. She wondered what kind of person Antoni Gaudi would have been – to dare to build something so unconventional. They walked to the other buildings by Gaudi, and were astonished by each. Each was completely different from the other, with very beautiful and strange colorings and carvings. Many of those buildings were occupied by banks, but had some sections open to the public. Unfortunately the entrance fee for most buildings was as much as 10 Euro. They contended themselves to walk around and admire Gaudi from outside.

By evening they reached the most happening street in Barcelona – La Rambla. The street was alive as if a carnival was going there. There were street musicians, people selling souvenirs and other wares, people dressed up as mascots, and so on. What impressed her most was those who painted themselves and stood like statues. She was awed at how still they could be, despite the bustling street. Her favorite was the invisible man – dressed in all silver including his hat.  They found a small, quaint Italian restaurant, where she ordered Ratatouille pasta – that was the only name she could recognize in the menu due to the animation film of that name. Her friend warned her that people either like that dish a lot or just hated it. She was happy that she was among the former. It had been many days since she had a filling meal – being a vegetarian is quite difficult in the western world. That would be her best meal in the entire trip – she already knew that.

As they slowly walked back to their hostel, she observed the people around. Again she couldn’t but admire the fashion and style exhibited by people. It was more pronounced in Barcelona compared the previous two places. Unlike the other two places, she saw many people on the heavier side of the scale. Maybe it had to do with the city life, which tends to be similar across the world. Sedentary lives spent in the pursuit of money and power leading to increased inches around the middle of one’s body.

She had been surprised to see so many Indians in Barcelona. It was quite strange an experience – to see familiar looking faces among the strangers. And to hear sudden greetings like “Sasriyakaal” among the sea of fair skinned people dressed in business formals. She realized that though she was enjoying the trip immensely, she missed her home and people around. Not anyone in specific – but the general exuberance and liveliness of Indians – who cannot stop chattering in trains, who would not smile when their eyes meet with a stranger but would tell the story of his life within minutes of being introduced, the tastes and smell of the amazing street food, the warmth she felt even when she was among strangers there. People in Spain were so much more polite, ordered and nice – unlike Indians. But every attempt she had made to talk or know them had been rejected very politely by them. They liked their privacy, unlike Indians. 

She smiled, as she tried to clear her mind of those thoughts. She loved her time in Spain, but still wanted to go back home. She knew that it was exactly how every Indian must have felt being anywhere other than India. Western world is amazingly comfortable – clean, and organized and easy. But it lacked that one thing, which no one can describe in words. The one thing which differentiates your home from others.

To be continued…..

SEVILLE

She couldn’t believe they were late. As they ran through the deserted streets of Granada at dawn, she thought about how she had never missed a train or a flight or a bus to anywhere before. And she was determined not to make a first with this train to Seville. They took a shortcut to the railway station, based on their general sense of direction and it paid them off well. They reached in time with 2 minutes to spare – enough to catch their breath. And to laugh at themselves. How could they be late? They had done a recce of the route to the station the day before, and knew the roads of Granada quite well by now; having walked around everywhere. They left the hostel early and had even skipped their daily dose of hot chocolate, to ensure they be on time. Despite all that preparation, when they looked at their watches halfway, they were shocked to see that they just had a few minutes to catch their train. Guess they were too lost in the sight of beautiful Granada in the early morning.

When she reached Seville, she was surprised to find it very different from Granada. Everything about this place was bright and sunny and cheerful. It reminded her of the movie – Before Sunrise. They took a bus to Plaza Neuva – the most happening centre of the city. Their first destination was Plaza Espana. It was a breathtaking structure with a mixture of different styles of architecture. It looked as if the plaza was constructed as a tribute to the different history and art of Spain. Each district and section of the country was depicted beautifully. She had never seen anything like this – even in the movies. 

 
The place was full of tourists from across the world. After all, this was the time of Semana Santa – one the most famous festival of Seville. People from around the world had flocked here to be a part of the celebrations. However, just like in Granada, she didn’t find any Indians there. With an exception. They met a man selling flamenco fans – beautifully painted ones. As she bargained with him, she found out that he was a descendant of an Indian who had migrated here generations ago. He was quite excited to see them.

The cathedral in Seville was one the largest Gothic cathedrals in the world and was quite magnificent. The interior was quite fascinating with its paintings and carvings and the gold. She had never seen that much of gold outside a South Indian wedding. The cathedral had a tower named La Giralda – a very old structure. As they climbed up the tower through its winding ramp, they met a very good looking Spanish man wanting to strike up a conversation with them. However, he didn’t know a word of English. They gave up trying after some time, and instead focused on the view from the top of the tower. It gave a panoramic view of the city – quite breathtaking view. They could see the Torro, a famous bull fight ring from there – it looked quite interesting. They both instantly decided that would be their next stop – a trip to Spain would be incomplete without a bull fight.

 
As they walked around the streets of Seville she couldn’t stop admiring the orange trees laden with ripe fruit. She had seen that in Granada too, and wondered if it is an entire Spain thing. No one seemed interested to pick them and eat – strange sight for her. In India, even the flower plants and shrubs were not spared. She enjoyed the sight of festivities in the streets. There were vendors of every kind, magicians, musicians and people acting like statues. There was celebration in the air, everything was so bright and colorful. 

 

The visit to the Torro was quite upsetting. While the ring was quite amazing – bright orange and brown sand swept in a spiral, it was the history and the depiction of bull fights in the museum which troubled her. She hadn’t known that the bulls are killed, and quite brutally too, in the fights. Sometimes it is the fighter who dies. It was all so bloody and gory; she wondered how people enjoy it. She was happy that there was no bull fight happening while she was there. 

Once out of the Torro, they walked across the road to the bank of the river. It had a very calming effect after the violence of the bull fight. The sparkling water of the river, with its beautiful bridges and lovely boats made her feel so happy and relaxed. There were people lying on the banks and enjoying the quite afternoon sun. As they sat there, enjoying the soft splashes of the river, she couldn’t stop admiring the people around. Everyone seemed to be in a holiday mood – beautiful people just sitting or walking around and enjoying their time. 

The processions and festivities picked up in the evening, and everyone were out on the streets. They saw how the young crowd jumped from one pub to another – holding plastic glasses of drinks. This was the first time she saw people in groups. Guess, pubbing is not much fun just as couples – you need a group to enjoy it all. After wandering around for ages, they finally decided to reach the bus station in time – to catch their bus back to Granada. They didn’t want to be late this time. 

By the time they reached Granada, it was after midnight. There were no buses at that time and they decided not to hire a cab. Instead they walked down the long road to their hostel. The streets were not as deserted as she thought it would be – there were those groups of people still hopping bars and trying to have the last bit of fun before hitting the bed. Night life in Spain seemed quite fun. She had to try it before she left for India. There would be plenty of chance to do that in Barcelona – the big city. Their next stop. 

                                                                                             To be continued…..

 

GRANADA – CONTINUED

Alhambra was not the only majestic building in Granada. This place was a congruence of Moorish and Christian architecture. While the Alhambra, Albayzin and Generalife represents the Muslim reign, the Palace of Charles V, the Cathedral and Sacromonte represent the Christian era. To her, everything looked beautiful. She hadn’t imagined it to be so magnificent, when she had read the book. She was quite happy that everything turned out to be more than her expectations. 

It was the Easter holidays, and most of the shops were closed. People were out on the streets, having fun and enjoying the sun which was getting warmer every day. Spring was in the air, and there were beautiful flowers blossoming all around. Easter is celebrated quite grandly in Granada – she could make that out from the processions in the evenings. People in the processions were dressed up quite strangely – probably had a lot to do with the history of the Easter in that location. But she couldn’t bother to find out. She was never really interested in religion that much. 

She wasn’t interested in fashion either; before coming here. Now, she just couldn’t stop herself from noticing what people dressed here. Because it was still early spring, everyone wore jackets and scarves. Women wore short skirts, shorts or dresses, with stockings and boots. They matched these up with lovely warm clothing like sweaters, jackets, scarves and caps. In her eyes, each person was a model posing for a fashion shoot. She felt that she was walking through one big fashion show all the time. And amidst them all, she found a small group of tourists dressed even better – like the movie – Devil Wears Prada. These women made the rest seem like school children in fashion. Her friend could make out that they were from London, from their conversation and accent. She then got to know that fashion sense in London was of an entirely different league. She wondered if she ever went to London, people would put her in the jail for being dressed as she was.

Granada in Easter was quite full of people. There were tourists everywhere – the streets shopping for souvenirs, in the restaurants enjoying the traditional Spanish food, and in the famous buildings admiring the architecture. However, there were very few international tourists, most seemed to be from Spain. There were very few Indians, and she felt people looking at her more than once. Once as they walked along some inner streets, she found a lady pointing them out to her numerous children – “Indians – Bonita Indians”. She was flattered when she got to know that “Bonitas” mean “beautiful” in Spanish. She had to tell people back home that people in Spain think Indians and India is beautiful. 

They had to try the free “tapas” for which Granada was famous for. Tapas is the wide variety of snacks or appetizers – a very famous part of Spanish cuisine. She had heard they could be quite delicious. Interestingly, most bars in Granada were known to offer them free with drinks. She had read that these tapas becomes more than a meal for people, as they hop from one pub to another to try the different variety – while only paying for their drink. Everyone who visits Granada had to do this thing. However, fate was not their side. Since it was the Easter holidays, most restaurants had stopped offering free tapas. That didn’t stop them from looking for that one bar which would still offer free tapas. And that’s how they got lost.

It was all because they didn’t know Spanish. After taking directions from their hostel manager, they made their way for Sacromote. Somewhere in that district was a bar which was not only still offering free tapas, but was very famous for its ambience. They however had underestimated how big the district was or how deserted. Once they entered the winding lanes on that hill, there was no getting out. They went up and down and into alleys and lanes, which were completely deserted, looking for some living being who could guide them to that restaurant. But everyone was at the processions in the main street. They got terribly lost, and couldn’t find their way out of Sacromonte. After forever, of walking around in that maze of beautiful, ancient lanes, they found the free tapas bar. It was completely crowded - with loud music, and people standing on every inch of the place. She had never seen a place like this before. It looked like all the young crowd of the city was jammed into this one place. She had her first Shangriya – which tasted quite like fruit juice. And her first meal. Yes her tapas was quite filling and the best tasting food she had since she landed in Spain. Being a vegetarian was quite difficult in the western world, but tapas came to her rescue. She hoped she would have similar luck in the other places she would be going.

They walked back from the bar and reminisced the last two days. They hadn’t expected to see so much in such a small city – they had walked around everywhere – never having to take a cab or a bus to any place. It was not so much about the buildings or the Sierra Nevada which impressed her, as much as the people and how they lived. Granada has this relaxed atmosphere, as if everyone were leading quiet, happy and contended lives. No one was rushing anywhere, or trying to be something. It was tranquil, soft, easy and peaceful.. Somehow being in Granada made her feel complete. 

She hoped Seville would be as great. Her next destination.