Granada

I went to Granada to a not-very-interesting conference on literary translation (well, not really a conference, and that's one of the reasons why it wasn't very interesting, but enough of my troubles...). I had a free morning and went tramping around. Granada has: architecture (although, you know, if you've seen one Alhambra you've seen them all);





the extremely evocative and pretty Manuel de Falla museum ( a sort of Kettle's Yard for Spanish hypochondriac musicians: the photos show MdF's hat, his bedside table, including his nasal douche [his friends saved absolutely everything when everyone's favourite gaditano MdF went to Argentina in the late 1930s, hoping that he would come back and move back into his house, which means that most surfaces are covered with a variety of patent remedies of the early twentieth century]), and the entrance to this entrancing cármen (which was, I was assured, the Grenadino name for what I would naturally call a patio);



some advanced graffiti;



a man carrying a mirror, whom I was tempted to follow for longer than I did;

some bright Virginia creeper (?) and other plants(?);


and views, lots of lovely views.



It also, although I didn't dare take photos there, has a very good organic vegan take-away, round the corner from the lute-maker's, in case you need to know of a good place to eat.