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Granada
Just over a week ago we went to Granada for the weekend -- our first overnight trip since arriving in Spain. We were told that we would probably really like Granada, being that it is a college town, one of the big three cities in Andalucía, and full of history, architecture, and things to do. And we did -- it was a blast!
We tried to plan ahead and get tickets for the Alhambra in advance, as the word on the street was that they sell out every day, year-round -- 6000+ tickets a day! After some quick looking around online to make sure tickets looked somewhat available, we called a few places to stay (in Spanish, thank you very much) and managed to line up a hostal near Plaza Nueva, which is pretty central to town, the Alhambra, the Albayzín (old Islamic quarter), and anything else that we'd want to do. We figured we'd get tickets when we got to town and kind of play it by ear.
We left Marbella early Saturday by bus for the nearly three-hour ride up to Granada. That passed without incident or event, really, but was pretty relaxing and with a quick stopover in Málaga on the way, so now we know what that bus station is like. Right out of the Granada station, we were pretty sure we had figured out the city buses to Plaza Nueva, but with about twenty minutes to spare before the time we told the hostal owner we'd be there (noon), we figured we'd play it safe and take a taxi. We made it right on time, prepaid for our room (quite cheap, since we used the shared floor bathroom), and dumped our stuff to explore town. And our room was cute, in a very old house, with a nice family running the place and on a lively street (Cuesta de Gomérez).
We explored Plaza Nueva, with its kebab and gelato vendors, headed up towards Plaza Santa Ana and its old church, grabbed a city map at the tourist office, and headed a bit further into town to explore the area around the cathedral.
Granada is very lively, with lots of beautiful old plazas featuring open air restaurant seating, musicians, street vendors, historic information signs, window shopping, and street performers. We had a nice outdoor lunch at one place between the cathedral and Plaza de la Trinidad, where I had a tomato salad and Michelle a small pizza. When we sat down, there was no one in the restaurant and one other couple outside. Every now and then, someone would walk by (Granada is a great people-watching city, by the way) and stare longingly at Michelle's pizza, like they were going to take a piece. It was borderline unsettling, actually. But before long, there were a good dozen and half tables full of people enjoying food and wine. I like to think we had something to do with it, but in reality, I think we're just good at eating a bit early compared to Spaniards and only appearing to start a trend.
After lunch, we headed off in search of one of the Arab baths we had heard of, since we wanted to make a reservation for later that night. One of the things that we really wished we had done in Istanbul was to go to a famed Turkish bath, but none were both reasonably priced and co-ed, so we opted out of it. But in Granada, our guidebook recommended two Arab baths of similar repute and we decided to splurge a little and go to the nicer and more historic of the two. I got pretty far into the reservation-making process in Spanish (more on the relative popularity of English in Granada later) until I got tripped up on the stupidest of things. She asked for my nombre and I started with my cell number. Even Michelle caught that one. For some reason number and nombre really meld in my mind, but nombre is of course name, not number. So I hastily finished the reservation in English, thanked them profusely (but red-faced), and we headed back out into the city.
We decided to fill our time before the bath with the start of a walking tour of the Albayzín. It was really beautiful, but you could definitely tell that it was built in the shadow of the Alhambra as all of the dramatic intra-building views showed at least a corner of it, high on a hill above all the rest of town. Being as the majority of the walking tour was uphill and the day was quite hot, we decided to plan our walk to end back out at the archaeological museum, spend some time there, then swing back by the hostal to change and head to the bath.
The museum was small but well done, in a Renaissance-era mansion fully converted into rooms ranging from the Stone Age through the late Romantic period. There were a number of well-preserved Roman artifacts, including a mile post from the original Roman roads through the area, and another highlight was the line drawings showing typical lifestyles at various points in time -- cave dwellings, river fishing, boatmaking, and the like.
Just outside the museum we happened upon one of the weirder but livelier parts of Granada, a college-age group of guys dressed up like matadors, wielding a bullhorn and being chased by a guy dressed up like a bull (videos here and here). Good times.
Towards six, we headed down to the area where Aljibe San Miguel Baños Árabes, our bath, was to be found. This, my friends, is some of the best use of money I've ever happened across. You get a towel and a numbered bracelet, dump your stuff in a locker and change into your swimsuit, and head through a large, 
old, wooden door into a dimly candlelit chamber featuring six pools of varying temperatures of hot water and one well lit pool of cold water. I'd say there were about fifteen people in there with us, mostly college-age girls but a few other couples, and you basically get an hour and a half to just lounge about in these hot pools, switching around as you wish, with the recommendation that you do the cold pool last. All the while soft, strumming, Arabian music is playing and you hear the sounds of drips and soft splashes. It was truly relaxing. After quite some time, your bracelet number is called and you proceed to a side room for -- wait for it -- a personal massage. After that, you head to the side shower stalls to rinse off the massage oils, then we took the dip in the cold pool (I just went for it and plunged up to my neck -- it wasn't too bad if you didn't move). Next up, the side room with sweet Moroccan mint tea and small candies. Lastly, you head back to the changing rooms, grab your stuff, and make your way out. I think I was breathing deeply -- nay, sighing loudly -- for at least an hour after leaving that place. Best ever.
We had a kebab dinner out and headed home for an early bed -- about ten, when most Spaniards are just getting started on dinner -- in an effort to get up nice and early, head up to the Alhambra, score some tickets, and spend the day up there. But I'll leave that adventure for our next installment...
