Granada

Here we are in Granada, in the foothills of the snowy Sierra Nevada mountains, where the first thing we noticed is that the temperature is a good ten degrees cooler than it was in Córdoba. Dave looked up our altitude and we're above 2,000 feet, so that's quite a difference. I've had to break out my trusty green jacket again.

The good news is, we got here. The bad news? Remember those tickets to the Alhambra I was proud of resourcefully ordering through a tour company? Well, they sent us a message after 9 p.m. last night saying they were unable to procure them and our tour was cancelled and our money would be refunded. (I expect so!) So it looks like we won't be getting into the Nasrid palaces, but as I wrote before, I've seen them, so I'm not heartbroken. Dave has never been there, but he's not that attached to the idea.

I was able to get last-minute tickets to the Alcazaba and the Generalife, two parts of the Alhambra complex that are less in demand. So we'll at least see those.

Cable box cover in Córdoba

Before we left Córdoba yesterday morning, we sat for a while in one of the parks and then went to meet Mitchell and San Geraldo (aka Jerry) for coffee.

And this time we managed to take a picture!

Then Dave and I were off to the train station for our nearly two-hour journey to Granada. Before we climbed on the train Dave popped into the Ale-Hop, a chain of gift shops that Mitchell has written about before. A cow is their mascot:

(I love that it's on casters. I wanted to roll it around the train station.)

Dave bought his very own Speed-Poo, which Mitchell has also written about, but as far as I'm concerned the less said about that the better.

After checking into the Barcelo Hotel Carmen here in Granada, we went out for a glass of something and wound up in a square dominated by the Fuente de los Gigantones, a fountain topped by a figure of Neptune and supported by four grotesque giants.

Here are some interesting street sights:

How desperate would a person have to be to dial a phone number with not even a picture or gender to go on?

Where to go when you're feeling hungry and somewhat sacrilegious.

This is where we had dinner last night. The menu included some story about a Robin Hood-like figure known as "Big Ears" who roamed Granada in antiquity, and who knows whether that's true, but supposedly he inspired the name of the restaurant. ("El Orejas" translates to "The Ears.")

We had a good meal, though quite leisurely because our single waiter was consumed by serving a family of 12 (!), including at least half a dozen small children, at an adjacent table. (Plus three other tables besides ours.) Fortunately we didn't have to be anywhere fast!