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| Motril Church |
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| Motril at the Foot of the Sierra Nevada |
Motril is the second largest city in the Province of Grenada;
however, as the city is ‘new’ it has very a rather sterile air. Located a
couple of miles from the sea shore, it has no inviting beach promenade nor sea
side restaurants. It also subscribes to siesta, and everything closes up tight
after 2 p.m.
I just made a short foray into town, in time to catch the
last tapa bar open for a glass of unidentifiable rose wine (it came in a well-used
unmarked bottle and was poured into a kind of shot glass) and a plate full of
jamon de pata negra, meaning air dried ham from local porkers, which have lived
a happy life under oak trees eating lots of aromatic acorns until the day of
their demise. The ham is cured way up in the Alpujarras Mountains, where the
air is cool and dry. Even hams from Holland make it here, to hang in some dark
and cool room for up to four years, before making it to market and being served
sliced paper thing with crunchy Spanish Baguette bread. The little bar was
filled with local regulars, who all knew each other and were served their usual
thing without even asking – just right.
Anyway, one is back in ‘civilization’ as proven by poop and
scoop signage in parks…
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| If you do have a dog, don't turn your back on the problem |
Alpujarra Mountains on the southern slopes of the Sierra
Nevada, where snow still painted the summits white, is home to many remote
white-washed mountain villages. I visited a couple, Pampaneira and Lanjaron.
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| White Village on the high Montain Side |
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| Like Snow, the white houses cover the hills |
Pampaneira has not a single even piece of ground except the
area around the simple stone church. The whole village is a maze of intricate
stairs, steep narrow alleys, and hidden passages leading under balconies and
archways. All painted white, of course, it has dozens of small eateries
offering some of the delicious ham and local cheeses. Souvenirs consist mostly
of hand woven rag rugs and pottery. All the white washed houses have flat roofs
with a number of long necked chimneys. Reason for the long neck is the frequent
thick layer of snow, that covers everything here up high in the mountains
during winter. Chimneys just have to be higher than expected snowfalls…
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| Street Scene in Pampaneira |
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| Ham and Laundry - drying in the open air |
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| Fresh Water everywhere....the Sierras are generous with water |
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| Most alleys in Pampaneira are definitely pedestrian only... |
The Alpujarras were an ideal hide away for Moorish people,
when they were first forced to leave Granada, which fell to the Spaniards in
1492 under Ferdinand and Isabella, the ‘Catholic Kings’. Initially they were
permitted to stay in Spain, provided they converted to the other ‘true faith’
from the one they already professed. Even though, the Inquisition had its
advent in Spain, and Islamic books finished up on bonfires, and their owners
soon had no other choice but to hightail it into the rugged almost inaccessible
mountains of the Alpujarras, before fleeing to Morocco or Algiers as a last
resort.
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| High Chimneys on Flat Roofs - to accommodate heavy snow falls |
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| And way back beyond the horizon....the Mediterranean Sea |
Columbus got permission to ‘discover’ the New World from
same Kings in Granada, when it was taken from the Moorish Kings. With that the
ancient body of Moorish culture and knowledge was forgotten and ignored, except
for the Alhambra – the old Palace of the Moorish rulers – which Ferdinand and
Isabella converted for their own use.
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| Town Hall of Lanjaron |
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| Lanjaron Main Street |
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| Statue on Lanjaron's Fountain |
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| Lanjaron's Senior Citizens enjoying a Chat in the Sun |
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| Church Tower in Lanjaron |
A quick stop in Lanjaron completed the day. Lanjaron is well
known for its Hot Springs, which to this day serve as spas for locals and
visitors alike. The pure mineral water, originating in the Sierra Nevada, is
bottled and sold almost all over the world as ‘pure spring water’ – which in
this case happens to be the truth.
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| Senora Ruiz and her Hams and Honey |
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| Lanjaron, you are crying pure water from your cracks, they quench my thirst, and serve as a cure as well... |
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| Ancient Moorish Bridge over a deep canyon in the Sierras |
