I made a mistake yesterday. A dumb one. I handed my wallet to a total stranger and I turned my back. I paid. Sounds impossible, right? I’ve traveled for tens of thousands of miles by myself. Why would I do something so naive? Well, I’ll tell you.
I was sitting in a plaza cooling off when a man standing nearby offered to sell me a ticket to a flamenco show. I told him no thank you. His English was extremely good, so we struck up a conversation about the city. He was very charming and sincere. Explained that he works as a tour guide in the region, and is of Swedish/Armenian descent but has lived here for a few years because he fell in love with Spain. I told him I am taking my parents to Sweden in October so we talked about Sweden, and about other places we have traveled. He was handsome, clean-cut and likable, so eventually I asked him what it would cost to hire him for a walking tour of Granada. I only have one day here so not much time to waste getting to the things I want to see. He told me he would normally get €20 for a tour, and that Sunday is his day off. But because I am pretty and interesting to talk to, he would do a tour for me and only charge me €15. Sold. We arranged a time for the next day. I told him I was looking for a place to have a tapas and a drink – so he said he would walk with me and show me one of his favorites. He sat with me and had a drink too and we shared a tapas and talked about world politics and comedians and traveling. We walked a bit more as he guided me through the labyrinth of streets in central Granada, and we passed a square where a huge crowd had gathered and in the center people were line dancing to Achy Breaky Heart sung in Spanish. I had to take a video to share with you guys – it was too funny. So I handed him my clutch and pushed my way through the crowd to shoot a few seconds of video. We said pleasant goodbyes at my hotel and reaffirmed our meeting time for the next afternoon – today.
When I went to transfer things from my clutch to my shoulder satchel this morning, I found I had no money left. Cards and coins were there, but all the bills were gone. I figure he took about €60 – maybe $75 USD.
It has been a very painful lesson today. I couldn’t believe it – I looked through everything twice over to make sure I hadn’t tucked the money somewhere else. It’s gone. Thankfully it was only that much – a couple of days ago I was carrying much more.
So that is how something like that happens, even when you travel a lot. Lesson for today – you can’t let your guard down, even for a minute. Not with anyone, not ever.
I messaged him this morning and told him I won’t be going on the tour because someone took my spending money from my wallet. I haven’t heard back.
I am on my way to a hammam – a traditional Arabic bath where I will hopefully rinse this terrible feeling from my heart. Sometimes people aren’t what they seem, no matter how great and normal and sane they seem. I don’t like this lesson. I’m looking forward to coming home.
Check out this ruins of an Arabic bath I saw in Ronda. Looking forward to the real thing.
GRANADA Part 2
I’m warming up to Granada. I think I’m going to have to give credit to the hammam bath. Obviously they’ve rebuilt the entire place since there was an Arabic bath there 1,000 years ago. But holy shit if I didn’t feel like I had stepped into a place that was ancient and spiritual.
They rebuilt the concept in meticulous detail (um, except for the part where they allow women in – Haha) – it had a series of chambers that consisted of a cool room, a warm room, a hot room, each with accompanying pools of different temperatures, a steam area, masseurs, mild aromas of exotic herbs, and it looked exactly like the palace and bath ruins I’ve been touring. I mean, I went from touring the Alhambra this morning to feeling like I was living in it this afternoon. It was very, very dark, lit mostly by candles and a few muted ceiling lights positioned to look like bits of sky – it even had the star cutouts in the ceilings of its domed chambers. They restrict admission by appointment times, so there were miraculously many times when I was by myself or very close as I moved back and forth through the areas. Floating on my back in one hot pool, I could stare up at incredibly intricate plasterwork like the palace and listen to trickling streams of water just barely audible above faint Arabic music. You guys, this place was transformative. It will be the best $40 you’ve ever spent.
It’s been a shitty couple of days – really shitty for a list of reasons – and I was grappling with a lot of questions about people and life and myself. People disappoint me, and I have a hard time with that. I disappoint myself sometimes by believing in people when I shouldn’t, and I have a hard time with that too. And, even bigger, “Why am I here?” I wondered. Not the bath, but in Europe. Or the universe. Enveloped in the thick steam of one of the hot pools, tears disappeared into the rivulets of steam rolling down my cheeks. I’m tired, I decided – tired of men and peoples’ bullshit and feeling like I’m missing something in life in general, and I’m tired of traveling right now – I’m ready to be home with my family and friends. As I floated on my back in the next hotter pool, my forehead came to rest under a thin stream flowing into the bath, and as the water rolled down my temples, I felt an incredible sense of peace. I can’t describe the experience, but I know it has to be on every one of your bucket lists. I am a new woman – just in time for starting my journey towards home tomorrow.
Here are a few interesting things about Spain that I’ve learned along the way:
IF you get off of the main tourist track and into the side streets, taverns and restaurants serve you little bits of food if you order a drink – at least in Granada. It’s just a few bites of something or another and it’s the chef’s choice, but so far I’ve been served a bagel with prosciutto and sauce, paella, a salad with soy sauce and an egg roll, tuna fish on a bun with extra crappy French fries, and an egg sandwich with chips. It’s free, and it’s the coolest thing ever. Perfect for me because it’s all I can eat anyway.
Gazpacho is amazing. Everyone has their own recipe, kind of like barbecue I suppose. But this is the top of the list of things I’m learning to make once home. Yeah, it’s tomato soup, but So. Much. Better.
Spanish people are surprisingly aloof. A few foreigners who live here as expats have confirmed that it isn’t just me – it’s their culture. I’m used to my Latin American experience where they are so warm and open, even to visitors. That is not Spain. For example, I just got my waiter to crack a smile, and it felt like a victory. And I’m even wearing a great dress.
And speaking of waiters, it is customary here to deliver your food and never come back to the table again for any reason, even if it’s on fire, without being summoned. If you wait for them to just bring the check, you will be there until the place closes.
A shocking number of things here are on bread. It’s like it’s own food group. Like, you can’t get eggs for breakfast, but you can get an egg sandwich. In Portugal, by the way, it was mayonnaise and ketchup. Absolutely everything was served with them, even pizza. Bleeech.
People in Southern Spain honestly don’t speak English, and pretty much it’s because they don’t want to, I think. Learn a little Spanish or get a really good translator if you’re going to come here. There have been days when I haven’t spoken a word of English, and trust me, my Spanish is not that good.
Motorcyclists can do anything they want. So can tour buses. I nearly died today because that goddamn Google Maps lady took me on another street without a sidewalk and it was me and a tour bus. He didn’t even hit the breaks and I can’t believe I wasn’t gutted by his mirror.
Street music takes on new dimensions in Spain. When I have good wi-if, I’ll share some video. It’s seriously great.
You need to like your own company if you are going to travel alone in Spain. Everyone is traveling with friends and almost no one else speaks your language. I hear so little English. It’s kind of cool, unless spending your days like you’ve taken an oath of silence makes you crazy.
It’s a good thing that after a hammam bath day and a little soul searching, I like my own company pretty well right now. Me and myself are about to go find a glass of wine, which is sooooooo cheap here. Like $3 at the best restaurants- as long as you aren’t getting fancy about what you want. And you don’t need to, the house wine is superb everywhere. It is Spain, after all.
Great affection to you, my friends. Thanks for being so cute and a sane island in my insane life. I’m looking forward to seeing you when I get home ❤️
SPAIN – the end
I am traveling with too much luggage. I tried not to, but it just happens. The camera gear is a killer. So it has been a trick to navigate with a large suitcase, a heavy roll-on bag, and a stuffed satchel, but I was managing pretty well until yesterday at the Granada bus station.
For reasons I will never understand, they have an escalator there WITH NO STAIRS. It isn’t as steep as a full flight of stairs, but it is a pretty good slope down to the level below, which turns it into a death machine if you’ve got full hands like mine. I got on with my bags and thought “What the he….aaaaaggghhh!” Holding a rolling bag in each hand, I started sliding forward with no way to stop myself – if I let go of a bag to hold on to a rail, the bag would take off and pinball through the people in front of me. But if *I* didn’t hold onto something, I was going to hit those people like a bowling ball coming down a chute. Who in the hell designed that thing? The ungraceful solution was to spread my stance and crouch a little to keep my balance as each foot slid forward in little bits while I tried to brace myself and the bags. I made it to the bottom without being pressed up against the people in front of me – how, I have no idea.
I’m sure it was a sight. Good thing I stopped caring what people thought of how I look a week or so ago. Unfortunately, that happened right about the time I got to Seville, which is a fantastically stylish city where everyone wears tight white pants and high heels and bright red lipstick. This is not a place where you blend in easily, especially if you are like me and resorting to comfortable shoes and ponytails. Today I look like I’m homeless – just a mendicant wandering around the airport with all these bags. It was all I could do to force myself to brush my hair this morning. Haha. It’s time to come home.
