Granada

I knew I was in for some tough shit when I started having to pee the first 10 minutes of the bus ride. There was a bathroom on the bus but it was locked and nobody would let me in. I was sitting in the back of the bus with a woman and her two children, the kids all splayed out on the row of seats and the mama dead asleep with her head cocked back and her mouth gaping. I harnessed every ounce of strength in my little frame not to pee my fucking pants. Somewhere amongst my struggling I fell asleep and woke up to an empty bus, stopped at a gas station in the middle of buttfuck Spanish desert as the sun was coming up. I ran over to the driver and said “Granada?” and he started yelling some bullshit at me and pointing to another bus across the parking lot which was about to leave. I ran over to the bus and chucked my stuff in just as they were pulling out. I said “bano por favor?” to the driver and made a face communicating the extent to which I had to pee everywhere. He understood. Thanks gas station. I drowsily watched the sun come up over the Andalucian desert, wanting so hard to fall asleep but amazed by the almond trees blooming and the endless fields leading up to jagged mountains and the sun casting its first light over everything. I dozed off and awoke to the Granada bus station.

I spent some time trying to figure out Granada’s rocket science cracked out bus map and decided to cave in and get a cab. I made it to Tressa’s address at 10 AM and rang the doorbell. She answered, sort of (hahaha). The night before was her friends last night in town and she had stayed up til 7 AM. I was in a similar state (fuck buses) so we had some hilarious interactions until we both sort of wandered away from each other and fell back asleep. I slept allllllll day. I was a happy boy. I met Tressa after school and we wandered to the hippie square in Granada where all her homies were hanging out, playing music and drinking 40’s. I met her fellow Californian friends and her Spanish accomplices. I jammed with a dude for a couple hours and made some Granadians dance with some gypsy tunes. A bunch of dogs made a bathroom line and peed on my guitar case one by one. So it goes. A Moroccan guy explained to me that my guitar playing was the shit in a language I didn’t understand. We climbed back to Tressa’s house after some jammin’. She lives at pretty much the highest point in Granada so getting home is kind of a biiiitch but it’s bomb exercise. This dude Audrey followed us back. He has a funny way of speaking Spanish to me expecting me to understand if he moves his hands around enough and makes hardcore eye contact with me. I guess it sort of helped. I listened to Miles Davis in bed for waaaaay too long and eventually dozed off.

The next day, it was Alhambra time. The Alhambra is a massive, beautiful complex built by the Moors about a thousand years ago on one of the hills above Granada leading up to the Sierra Nevada’s. It is one of the most popular tourist destinations in Europe and rightfully so. I wandered around the courtyards with ancient spitting fountains and buildings with elegant stonework whilst dodging the leagues of distracted Asian tourists. I waited in line for a time in anticipation for the Nazareth Palaces where the royal chamber is. It is absolutely incredible. The shrine’s walls are layered with an intricate craftwork that looks like holy stalagmite from afar but is actually hand chiseled little drips of beauty. Everything is made of marble, which causes the chamber to be eerily freezing. I was entranced with this this image – A king sitting in an enormous chamber in an unearthly stronghold organizing wars in honor of his God while absolutely ball-numbingly cold. I stumbled out of the Alhambra more inspired than I expected. I wandered around downtown Granada, admiring the architecture of the little buildings and the cobblestones streets, stopping for cerveca y tapas at the occasional café. In Andalucia, they serve you food with your beer, free of charge. Beautiful. I marched up the steep ascent back to Tressa’s house and stopped at a market for some eggs and a 40 of Alhambra beer, in honor of the epic castle. Tressa, her roommate Borja and I had a dope laptop party and took it real easy.

The following day I woke up at the God fearing hour of 2 PM to Tressa tempting me with some delicious scrambled eggs and potatoes she had graciously prepared for us both. We chomped down some food and headed out to downtown to help her friend Michelle search for some new gauges. We had a silly time infiltrating this little subculture where all the tattoo & piercing shops were blasting Spanish metal and hardcore. I bought several bottles of delicious wine for this fine Friday night. Spanish wine is cheap as fuck and delicious, 6 Euros for the finest. Audrey spent a really long time explaining to me that this particular bottle of wine was the best in the world in Spanish. I didn’t understand. I’m sure his speech was moving. Back home, Tressa’s roommates prepared us Spanish style fajitas. We drank wine and had hilarious bilingual conversations. We headed out for the Booga, the big ol’ Friday night clubspot. There was a number of bands playing that night. The joint was fuckin’ jumping. University students spilled out into the streets and onto a nearby stairway drinking Alhambra 40’s and smoking fine Spanish herb. We managed to get into the gigantic line leading into the Booga at just the right time in between bands ensuring a short wait. Inside, it was hot and everyone was drunk. The first band we saw was this really high energy Ska band that reminded me of Fishbear back when they first started. I moshed really hard just for the fuck of it and to force out the 2 bottles of wine we had consumed on the way over. After the band played, two different gypsy folky flamenco bands rocked different sides of the club with accordions and guitars and saxophones and all the good shit. I felt like I was back home as I got my hoe-down on with Michelle and Tressa, absolutely loving every second. A really lame DJ overtook the soundscape out of no where so we decided to move on and dance to some silly house. I rescued some dead soldiers (half drank beers) and danced the night away. We blew the Booga after a bit and got a late night kebab down the street. We drowsily made our way back up the hill at about 5 in the morning. Everyone wanted to sit out on the castle nearby and watch the sun come up but it was definitely time for me to go to bed so I went home by myself and I don’t even remember falling asleep I was so tired. Onward.