hanl

My husband and I just returned from a wonderfully relaxing two week holiday in Andalucia with our two-year old daughter, my mother and her husband.

<b>Background</b>

As my mother and I are both very familiar with southern Spain, having visited a number of times, our focus was not so much to visit all the main sights, but to find a nice place that we could relax, live on Spanish hours, enjoy some sunshine and generally have a proper holiday. We definitely wanted to be staying in a self-catering property, as with our daughter it was important to be able to prepare meals and store food.

We also had to find somewhere child-friendly, which narrowed down our options quite a lot. Mum's husband (D) wanted to be near the sea for a week, so we decided to split our time between two properties: Padre Aviles, in the hills just outside Malaga (http://www.padre-aviles.com/), and a rental apartment in Zahara de los Atunes, on the Costa de la Luz (www.zahararentals.co.uk/).

Both places had good online reviews and booking (done in January) was easy, with good contact with the owners.

We flew with Brussels Airlines from BRU to Malaga. Instead of taking the cheapest "no-frills" tickets, I had decided to splurge on the Economy Plus tickets, which included online check-in, meal, drinks, priority boarding, fast-track security, etc. My husband (W) thought I was mad but since I was paying for the tickets and decided I wanted a little extra comfort, he didn't complain in the end!

We booked a mid-sized car through AutoEurope, which we had used for a trip to Italy the previous year. My mum and her husband booked their car (compact category) from Malaga Cars, recommended to them by a friend living in Spain. We'll see who made the better choice later...

<b>Day 1 (part 1): What do you mean you forgot your driving licence? A series of unfortunate events...</b>

Departure day dawned, and for once I had been very organised and we were all up, packed, checked in (online) and ready to leave with plenty of time to spare. Arrived at the airport and were just unloading the car when W asked me if I had his passport.

"Yes," I replied, "but you don't need a passport to fly to Spain from Belgium, as it's in Schengen - any form of official ID will do".
"No but that's the only ID I have with me", said W.
At which point my stomach did a backflip. "You mean you don't have your driving licence?"
"No, why?"
"Because we're hiring a car in your name and they won't let us have it if you don't have a driving licence!!!!"

At this point I had to stop, think, and BREATHE very slowly while I tried to come up with a solution.
Option 1 - I had my (British, non-photo) driving licence so could have done all the driving myself but I am very uncomfortable driving on the "wrong" side of the road, plus I haven't driven for years.
Option 2 - We hired the car in my name but W drove it instead of me. This was W's preferred option until I pointed out he wouldn't be insured to drive the car and would be in BIG trouble if we had an accident.
Option 3 - We'd drop our bags at the check-in desk, and then W would drive home, get the driving licence, return to the airport and meet me and our daughter (E) at the departure gate.

We went for option 3. It was 8.30, and our flight was boarding at 9.25 for a 9.55 departure.

My heart was in my mouth for the next half an hour as I took E through security on my own, wondering what I'd do if W didn't get back in time. I headed for Starbucks for an emergency latte and a muffin, going through all the possible scenarios in my head as I stood in the queue. At this point my phone rang. It was 8.55.
"I just arrived", said W.
"What, you only just got home? You'll never be back in time!!!"
"No, I just arrived at the airport."
I couldn't believe that W had managed to drive home (admittedly an easy 20 minute drive on a traffic-free day), get the driving licence, drive back, park and get back to the airport terminal in under 30 minutes. He later told me that I shouldn't ask how fast he was going as I'd be horrified. I asked. I was horrified.

Luckily for us, the economy plus tickets that W had been reluctant to get really proved useful, as he didn't have to wait in the long queue at security but instead sailed through the fast lane.

One huge sigh of relief later, and W was sitting next to me in Starbucks with a cup of tea, and we could pretend that the whole incident had never happened.

The flight was uneventful, E was a bit cranky but then fell asleep, thankfully.

On arrival at Malaga we had to wait ages for our bags (I've never flown into or out of Malaga airport without some kind of cock-up somewhere along the line), and then when we got to the car rental desks we realised that the only desk with a massive queue was ours. Just what you need in a hot, stuffy airport with a toddler and a mass of baggage.

The company was Record-Go - I'd never heard of them but as we'd booked through AutoEurope I trusted them to be OK. After 45 minutes in line, we finally got to the desk and discovered that although we'd thought we'd opted for all-inclusive insurance, we were going to have to pay even more to be fully covered. Turns out it was in the small print. of course. Oh well, better safe than sorry.

And wait a minute, we were also being charged over the odds for a full tank of fuel and asked to bring the car back empty. I'd never heard of this practice before but the girl behind the desk said it was standard and, of course, it was in the small print as well. Instead of installing the child car seat that we'd booked in the car, they simply handed it to us over the counter.

We finally got the keys and headed to the car park to find the car, with me carrying a snoozing toddler and pushing a puschair with our hand luggage and the car seat perched precariously on top, while W pushed the luggage trolley with our two big bags. Naturally the car park was suffocatingly hot, and could we find the Record Go spots anywhere? After half an hour of trawling around the car park we spotted them. But there was no sign of our space - the numbers stopped at 80 and ours was in spot 100.

Turned out that the rest of the spots were two floors up on the other side of the car park so we dragged ourselves and our stuff up in the lift, headed across the car park and discovered that it was all under construction and there was a large no-entry barrier between us and the other side of the car park. In frustration we just climbed over it and carried on to the car, relieved to be getting out of the car park...

Except that when we got to the car it was a wreck - scraped, bashed, dented and scratched all over. W was furious and stormed back down to the rental desk leaving me and E in the car park.

He marched up to the desk and yelled "I'm not driving that piece of sh$t!!", at which point the girl immediately gave him keys to a new car.

Unfortunately the new car wasn't in a much better state than the previous one. But at this point we'd had enough - we'd been in the airport for nearly three hours and we just wanted to get away. The girl at the rental desk had told us we were covered for all damage to the car so we decided to cut our losses and head off, at last, to our rental apartment, Padre Aviles.

<b>Next: Day 1 (part 2) - A beautiful apartment in the hills: the real holiday begins</b>

amsdon

Wow Hanl what a start!!!! Whew! I would have been livid too. I am so happy to stumble on your report. What a change you have had (I as well have had changes)since we last spoke here on Fodors. You are a mom now!! I hop you have returned to your flamenco class???

Keep going more please...great writing.

josele

Sorry bout the rental car isuue. I neither know that company. I have used EuropCar lately, with no problem. But I was induced to the full tank option by Hertz, as long ago as 2000. I do not recommend it, there's always a gas station by the airport. About the carseat, who'd be responsible if it went loose and they had installed it?
Malaga airport is really crazy, with all these "improvements" going on. Being local I am used to it, I also climb the barriers, but it is indeed crazy. Blame it on the government.

hanl

Hi Amsdon, how nice that you came across this report. Sadly I haven't taken up flamenco again, though I did dance a couple of sevillanas with a friend in front of a large crowd at our company Christmas event... In fact during this holiday, I didn't manage to see/hear/buy any flamenco music at all - the opportunity just didn't present itself. Am a bit disappointed about that, but I know that life changes when you have kids! Having said that I'm trying to cultivate a healthy interest in flamenco in my daughter too

Josele, I agree about the carseat - I thought that was a bit risky. Luckily my husband worked out how to install it from the tiny picture on the side! And as for the barriers, we figured hey, we're in Spain, what would a Spanish person do? Jump over them of course ;-)

Luckily the rest of the report is much more positive - we had a lovely time and enjoyed ourselves immensely. I'll carry on writing it up and hopefully have something to post by tomorrow.

hanl

<b>Day 1 (part 2) - A beautiful apartment in the hills: the real holiday begins </b>

With the car finally packed, E safetly strapped into her carseat and the GPS programmed, we headed off out of the airport and towards our destination, Padre Aviles, in the hills just north-east of Malaga, not far from the sea-front town of El Palo. As the next day was Sunday and most places would be closed, We stopped at a supermarket on the way to stock up on a few basics - jamón ibérico, Manchego cheese, bread, magdalenas and palmeritas for breakfast, lots of fresh, local fruit and veg (peaches, nectarines, asparagus...) and various other bits and pieces.
We then headed up the hill - a steep, winding road with numerous hairpin bends and lovely views for those not scared to look over the side - and found our way to the rental property, which was set down on the side of the hill with fabulous views over the valley and all the way to the sea beyond.

We arrived and were shown to our apartment by the owner. We were staying in a wing of the main house (the other wing of which was occupied by the owner's family). There were two apartments, one on the ground floor and one on the first floor, both overlooking the large pool and main terrace area. We'd chosen the first floor as I was worried that E would be able to run outside to the pool from the ground floor flat, but in fact that wouldn't have been an issue as the pool areas were all safely fenced off.
There was another building slightly further down the hill containing another four apartments and with its own pool area.

The apartment itself was gorgeous: a large, airy, open plan kitchen/ dining/living area with two comfortable sofas, big dining table and lots of work space for food preparation and storage. There were two nicely decorated bedrooms, each with its own bathroom, and a large terrace overlooking the pool and with more of those wonderful views of the hills and sea. What's more, the owner, Claire, had thoughtfully left us some wine, milk, orange juice and a home-made cake to tide us over.

The whole place was really well thought out for families with children: the pool and terraces were safely fenced off. At one end of the main terrace was a lovely area with two shady trees (with hammocks), swings and a slide, and lots of toy bikes, trikes and push-along cars for children to play with.

My mother and her husband, D, were due to arrive from Malaga airport later that afternoon, so while we waited for them we made the most of the pool, play areas and terraces. E was thrilled and ran from swings to slide to toy cars squealing with glee. She was a bit apprehensive when it came to swimming in the pool and clung onto mummy like a limpet, but after a bit of splashing around she relaxed and enjoyed being in the water.

That evening, I prepared a "tapas" style dinner of Manchego cheese, jamón ibérico, asparagus, tomato and tuna salad with onions, marinated peppers and crusty bread. Mum and D arrived just in time for dinner, and we enjoyed a lazy evening sitting out on the terrace taking in the views and soaking up the Spanish air.

Next: <b>Days 2 and 3: Taking it easy, Spanish style, lunch at an extraordinary fish restaurant, and a recipe</b>

hanl

<b>Days 2 and 3: Taking it easy, Spanish style, lunch at an extraordinary fish restaurant, and a recipe</b>

The next day was Sunday, and sunny with clear blue skies. After a Spanish breakfast of cafe con leche with magdalenas, palmeritas and other sweet goodies, we set about the difficult task of choosing a sunlounger on which to spend the day. E was happy to spend her every waking moment on the swings and slide, or being pushed around in the toy car.

As mum and I had visited this part of Spain several times before, we knew that the coast was nothing special. The sand is dark (and therefore hot!) and most of the beaches are over-developed, and most of the coastal towns have little to offer the casual visitor (aside from some great fish restaurants). The one exception, Nerja, was a town we'd visited a number of times and we agreed that we had no urge to visit again.

So we were more than happy to spend our first full day in Spain lounging around, enjoying the views and the pool and relaxing. Lunch was another "tapas" style meal on the terrace, and at dinner time we tested out the (rather inefficient) barbecue that had been provided. It took about 45 minutes to grill 3 chicken breasts and a dozen sausages, and when we did take them off the heat we discovered they'd been dried to the texture and consistency of shoe leather. Still, with a big pasta salad, some fresh bread and tomatoes and a bottle of Rioja, we managed to enjoy our dinner nonetheless.

The next day, after a morning of swimming, tennis, swings and slides, we decided we wouldn't stay holed up in the hills all day, so we agreed that we should head down to the coast to check out one of the restaurants. A restaurant right on the beach in El Palo, called El Tintero, had been recommended to us so we piled into the car, headed down the steep winding road and found our way there. It was located in a low building next to a strip of other beach front bars and restaurants and, from the outside, looked like nothing special. It had open sides, concrete floors, plastic tables, paper table cloths, and was absolutely vast. A few Spaniards were tucking into plates of seafood around us.

We sat at a table right overlooking the beach, ordered a round of cañas (small glasses of beer) and a couple of plates of calamares and boquerones (deep fried anchovies), and then the fun began.

One by one the waiters started emerging from the kitchens bearing plates of food, yelling at the top of their voices.

They'd weave through the tables, advertising their wares like market traders:
<i>"Ensalada de pimientos! Ensalada de pimientos!" </i>[pepper salad]
<i>"Gambas al ajillo! Gambas al ajillo! Riquísimos!" </i>[delicious garlic shrimp]
<i>"Ensalada de pulpo!"</i> [octopus salad]
...and still they kept coming with more and more plates of food!

When we saw something we liked the sound/look of, we just had to wave to the waiter and he'd set down the plate on our table. It was hugely entertaining and the food was delicious. We flagged down a plate of rosada con alioli (pink cusk eel (or kingclip) with garlic mayo), a melt-in-the mouth pepper and onion salad, a huge mixed salad, and a dish of sizzling gambas al ajillo.

At this point we were getting full, and the restaurant was too. Now the waiters were bringing out huge family sized platters of roast, stuffed fish, gigantic prawns, langoustines, whole grilled squid, paella... It was like a fashion parade of seafood.

When we couldn't eat another bite, we bought coffees from a separate counter at the back of the restaurant, and then asked for the bill. The waiter simply totted up the number of plates on the table (different sized plates bore different prices). Each of the dishes we'd ordered was priced at 7.50 euros, and our total bill including beers came to a very reasonable 54 euros for the five of us (although E didn't eat much, admittedly!).

That afternoon I wanted to pick up the Alhambra tickets that I'd booked for our visit to Granada on the Wednesday. I had the reference number, and my guidebook stated that tickets could be picked up from any branch of the BBVA bank, so we set off in the car to find one. After a long drive down the coast road we eventually spotted the bank, only to discover it was closed. Of course! I knew that Spanish banks were only open until 2pm, but somehow it had slipped my mind. I tried and failed to get the tickets from the ATM, and eventually we decided to give up and go to the supermarket instead. Unfortunately we managed to get rather lost and by the time we'd located the supermarket and worked out where we were, it was 4pm! A quick trolley dash later and we were heading back up the hill to enjoy a late afternoon swim and sunbathe.

That evening we tucked into cold chicken and cold meat served with one of my favourite spanish dishes, papas a lo pobre (poor man's potatoes).

Here's my recipe, as a side dish for four people. (NB there are lots of versions of this dish, but this is how I make it, as learned in Granada fifteen years ago!)

<b>Papas a lo pobre</b>

1 large bell pepper
1 large onion
6-8 medium sized potatoes
3 cloves garlic
olive oil
teaspoon sherry vinegar
salt and pepper

Thinly slice the bell pepper and the onion and slice the garlic. Peel the potatoes and slice into long wedges by cutting in half lengthways and then cutting each half into three, lengthways.

Generously cover the base of a heavy frying pan with olive oil and, on a very low heat, start to gently soften the onion and pepper. When they are sizzling quietly, add the potatoes and garlic and a splash of vinegar, and stir until everything is coated in olive oil. Cover the pan with a lid (or a piece of aluminium foil) and leave on a very low heat, stirring every now and then to ensure that it doesn't stick or burn. Leave to cook for around 30-40 minutes, until the potatoes are tender and the peppers and onions are meltingly soft. Check seasoning and serve directly from the pan!

Next: <b>Days 4 and 5 - a trip to the market, a day in Granada and another recipe</b>

josele

I am appalled to know the Tintero has risen prices-again. Last year it was 6,50eur per plate (the most common one), whilst previous one was 6. It is worth for the fun, but some dishes are not worth that money, you can have sardines (espeto) for 4,50 very near.
You make an excellent description of the place!

jubilada

I'm enjoying your report and looking forward to next installment! thanks.

hanl

Josele, I guess tourists (such as us!) are willing to pay those prices so they are able to charge them. But I can understand that for locals it must be irritating to have prices rising so quickly. It still seemed pretty good value given what we ate, and the size of the portions. Certainly compared to what we pay at home!
A shame that they are putting up their prices so regularly, though.

hanl

Again, it's taken me forever to add to this report. Life keeps getting in the way!


<b>Days 4 and 5 - a trip to the market, a day in Granada and another recipe </b>

The following day dawned warm and sunny, and we decided that another barbecue was in order for that evening. We wanted to make the most of the great seafood so decided that we'd head down to El Palo and check out the covered market there, and we'd also try and pick up our Alhambra tickets from the bank.

Down in El Palo, I located the branch of BBVA and stood in line at the information desk for twenty minutes before I learned that BBVA no longer distributed tickets for the Alhambra.

Instead I was told to head to any branch of the Caixa bank. Luckily there was one further down the street, and I decided to try the ATM to get the tickets. Nothing could have been easier - as soon as I put in my card, a screen appeared with a button stating "Events tickets". I selected that, and immediately had the option to print out the Alhambra tickets I'd booked back in April.

Relieved to have the tickets in hand at last, I headed back to the car and W and I set off in search of the market, following (or so we thought) the directions provided in the information pack from our apartment. Several miles later we were in Malaga, having driven along the coast road and completely missed the market. A few complicated turns later we managed to find ourselves back at our starting point and eventually found the market and squeezed the car down into the covered car park underneath.

The market itself was quite small but there were plenty of stalls. We wandered around the fish stalls first, checking out what had been freshly caught and decided what we fancied cooking on the barbecue. Eventually we settled for a large bream, a dozen sardines, a good pile of whole raw prawns, and a squid.

We stocked up on fresh fruit and veg next (strawberries, courgettes, peaches, onions, tomatoes) and some nice crusty bread, and then headed back to the car and up the steep, winding road to Padre Aviles.

Lunch was another tapas-y affair on the terrace, and the afternoon was spent in a blur of sunbathing, swimming, tennis and playing with E on the swings.

The inefficient barbecue was put to the test again in the evening. As I gutted, scaled and boned a dozen sardines (nothing like getting your hands dirty!), W battled with the charcoal and firelighters and eventually got a decent blaze going. When the coals were hot, we grilled the bream, prawns, squid and sardines, along with some sliced courgettes and peppers. Although there were a few casualties (rather too many things dropped down through the grill onto the coals), we all agreed that the fish tasted delicious. Even E tucked into a few grilled prawns, which were sweet and tasty.

The following day we were up early as we had the drive to Granada ahead of us.

We'd booked our slot at the Nasrid Palaces for 11 am, and I wanted to allow us plenty of time to get there, get parked and into the complex before our slot. The owner of the apartments told us it'd take an hour to drive to Granada, which seemed wildly optimistic to us. We decided to leave at 8.30 to be on the safe side - and it was lucky we did!

Not only did we have to deal with an emergency poo situation (nothing like travelling with toddlers to keep things exciting), which involved a pitstop at a service station and much washing of E's clothing and car seat, but the drive to Granada was fairly slow, despite being all on the motorway. Unfortunately the weather wasn't great either, with low cloud across the hills, so the views were nothing special.

We programmed the GPS to take us right up to the Alhambra, as we'd decided to park there for the morning and then head down to the city for the afternoon.

As a student, I lived in Granada for two months, and again for six months, but hadn't been back since 1995. I love the city, and spent an amazing time there, so I was really looking forward to showing it to my husband and family. I had already visited the Alhambra countless times and had studied the history of the Moors in Spain in some detail, but it is one of those places you can visit a hundred times and still find things to marvel at.

We parked easily in one of the official Alhambra car parks at the top of the hill, and walked down to the complex, through part of the Generalife and arrived at the entrance to the Nasrid palaces at 11 on the dot.

Walking into the palaces is something that just takes your breath away - even if you've been there before! Even E seemed to be in awe as she looked at the stunning architecture and decorations. I was worried this might not be a good place to visit with a toddler and a pushchair but it turned out fine, as she was happy to potter around as we marvelled at the beautiful walls, ceilings, tiles, doors, archways...

One of the features of this style of architecture (apparent across the Islamic world) is the "fear of emptiness" - which means that every available surface (walls, ceilings, floors) is richly decorated. As representations of the natural world are/were frowned upon in Islamic art, the majority of the forms are geometric, with stars and other interlocking shapes, or calligraphic, based on stylised verses from the Koran. The Alhambra does have a few examples of natural forms in its decor, however, including the Lions on the Patio de los Leones, and many floral shapes in the stucco work on the walls.

One improvement, I felt, was that it seemed that there were fewer people allowed through for each slot than the last time I had visited. I know that all the tickets for our slot were sold, though I don't know how many visitors are let through at one time. At any rate, it never felt crowded or busy, even as people milled around, and it was easy to get up close to admire the details of the architecture, or to take pictures without other tourists getting in the way.

The only slight disappointment was the Patio de los Leones, which was being renovated and therefore lacked its eponymous inhabitants. It's such an iconic part of the Alhambra I was sad that we couldn't see it in all its glory, but it's understandable and important that renovation and restoration continues so that everybody can enjoy the place.

We spent around an hour, perhaps longer, within the palaces themselves, and then wandered outside where mum and D grabbed a snack (D gets grumpy if he doesn't eat regularly!) and we made use of the very clean toilet facilities.

W, D and mum then headed off to the Palacio de Carlos V to have a look round, while I stayed outside with E who was tired and having a chill out moment in her pushchair.
Opinions are divided about Charles V palace, a monument to solid Renaissance architecture slap bang in the middle of the Alhambra complex. I think it's a hideous eyesore and a terrible shame that an entire wing of the palace was torn down to build it, especially as it was never even finished properly or used for its intended purpose.

Others, including my mother, think it's a beautiful building that has its place as part of Spanish history and an illustration of the Catholic monarchs' victory over Moorish Spain.

Next on the list was the Alcazaba, the original fortress and oldest part of the Alhambra complex.

This was a bit of a challenge with a pushchair, and if I could do things over I'd leave the pushchair outside by the gate next time. We walked through without climbing any of the towers, which offer some spectacular views across Granada but are totally impossible with a pushchair!

After the Alcazaba we had to visit the Generalife, the gardens laid out during Muhammed III's reign in the early 14th century. I believe that some of the fountains still operate using the original plumbing and waterworks laid by the Moors.

By this point it was gone 1pm and E was getting a bit tired, hungry and grumpy so we didn't linger as long as we might have done in the gardens, though we did follow the path all the way past the gorgeous fountains and rose gardens to the Palacio del Generalife, which is quite stunning.

From there it was a ten minute walk through the gardens and back to the car park. We weren't sure where we would park once we got down into the town, so took a bit of a random route, hoping the GPS would see us right. Eventually, when I thought we were more or less at the bottom of the hill we spotted a car park so squeezed in the narrow entrance and found a spot.

Emerging from there it took me a while to get my bearings, and eventually I realised we were still in the Realejo (the former Jewish district of Granada that sits on the hill opposite the Albaicin, traditionally the moorish quarter).

It took us five minutes to walk to the Plaza Nueva, a lively square that sits at the foot of the Cuesta de Gomerez, which is the main route from the town up to the Alhambra. I had planned to take everybody to the Paseo de los Tristes, a long stretch of cafés with outdoor tables offering gorgeous views of the Alhambra, but the sky was looking darker and darker and it felt as though rain was on the way.

So instead we made our way to the Antigua Bodega Castañeda on the corner of Calle Elvira, just metres from the Plaza Nueva. This is a favourite haunt with both tourists and locals alike, and I spent many hours propping up the bar there as a student. Although there were tables outside, we opted to sit indoors, and the friendly waiter set up a big table for us by the open doors at one end of the room, so we almost felt as though we were outside, and E had good views of the goings on in the street (always helpful when trying to keep her amused!).

We agreed we'd get a selection of raciones and tapas to share, and from the tapas menu it was clear that food in the interior of Andalucia is very different from the fishy offerings you get on the coast. I was pleased, as many of my favourite dishes were on offer. In the end we ordered a <i>surtido</i> (assortment) of tapas, which came with chorizo, ham, <i>ensalada rusa</i> and <i>tortilla de patatas</i> (Spanish omelette), plus a ración of <i>garbanzos con espinacas</i> (chickpeas with spinach), a ración of <i>migas</i> (a tasty breadcrumb based conconction that comes in all manner of guises throughout spain, though this one had chorizo and chickpeas and I can't remember what else in it!), a ración of ham <i>croquetas</i>, and a tomato and goats cheese salad. Mum and I washed it down with glasses of fino, while W and D had beer.

The food was tasty, particularly the spinach/chickpea dish (I've included my recipe below), and to my great surprise rather than eating the croquetas which we had ordered with her in mind, E gobbled up 90% of the chorizo sausage, along with a few bits of tomato, some chickpeas and plenty of bread.

The waiters were kindness itself and made a great big fuss of E, even bringing her a chocolate chip cookie to nibble on after the meal.

After lunch (by this time it was nearing 4pm), we set off down to the cathedral area to have a look at the Capilla Real where the Catholic monarchs have their tombs, and to show W and D where I used to live when I was a student in Granada.

We headed across Gran Via de Colon, one of the city's main arteries and approached the cathedral from behind. I warned D and W that if they saw any women (or men for that matter!) trying to give them flowers or sprigs of rosemary, to walk straight past without even making eye contact. When I lived in the neighbourhood these ladies were the bane of my life, constantly trying to get money out of everybody by giving them flowers and then making them pay. If one handed back the flower and refused to pay, one would be roundly cursed in a variety of languages! No eye contact was the only way to avoid them.

Luckily this time although a few of the women were around, they left us alone, and we walked down Calle Oficios to the entrace of the Capilla Real which, we learned, would open at 4 o'clock. That gave us about ten minutes to have a wander around so I lead everybody down to the Plaza Bib Rambla, which is where I lived as a student. It's a large, handsome square with cafe tables and flower stalls. The name comes from the old Arabic for Sand Gate, as it was once the location of one of the gates into the city.

From there we walked through plaza de la pescaderia, where a busy morning market is held, and took a loop round past the cathedral to the capilla Real, which just opened its doors as we arrived. We took half an hour to stroll around the chapel, heading down the steps to the crypt to peer at the tombs of Ferdinand and Isabella, and looking at the display cases with various bits and pieces of value from their reign.

When we emerged from the Chapel, the rain had finally begun to fall. Umbrellas at the ready, we decided to head up into the Albaicin, to one of the Moorish <i>teterías</i> (or tea shops).

E was snoozing in her pushchair. We crossed Gran Via and headed onto Calle Elvira, and from there up to Calles Calderería Vieja and Calderería Nueva. We stopped at the second tea shop we came to, the name of which now escapes me. To be honest most of these tea shops are much of a muchness, with similar décors and menus, so it really doesn't matter which one you choose!

As the rain came down outside we stepped down into the shady interior, lit by a few lamps and decorated with soft fabrics, low benches, stools and cushions, Moroccan marketry tables and hookahs. We ordered our teas from a long list: W and I chose the <i>té pakistaní</i>, which is a "chai" made with hot milk and infused with black tea, cardamom, vanilla and cinnamon. Mum had a <i>té maroquí</i>, the classic green tea with mint, while D chose a peach milkshake (<i>batido de melocotón</i. I ordered a few Moroccan pastries for us as well - "gazelle's horns" (<i>cuernas de gazela</i and date tart (<i>pastel de dátiles</i.

The waitress asked us if we'd also like a smoke of the hookah but we declined, preferring to sip our teas and absorb the atmosphere. E slept on.

It was a bit of a trip down memory lane for me, as when I had lived in Granada as a student I had spent many hours hanging out in these tea shops, escaping the hot afternoon sun by drinking té pakistani on a pile of cushions in the dark recesses of the teterías.

By the time we had finished our teas, the rain had stopped so I decided we should set off for a stroll up into the Albaicin.

Although we were pushing a sleeping E in the pushchair, I thought we could make it all the way up to the Mirador de San Nicolas, a viewpoint right at the top of the hill offering a great panaroma of the Alhambra.

It took some pushing and a fair amount of puffing and panting before we made it through the steep streets and emerged at the top. We walked up to the viewpoint and agreed it had been worth it, as the view of the Alhambra is stunning, and a great place for photos.

We took a more direct (and steeper!) route back down, past whitewashed houses with beaded curtains across the doors, geraniums flowering, stray cats and washing lines, broken cobbles and mopeds. E had woken up by this point and was out of the pushchair and running gleefully down the streets at full pelt.

It took us about 15 minutes to get down to the Carrera del Darro, running alongside the Darro river, and from there to Plaza Nueva and back to the car park.

As we left Granada the heavens opened once more, and the drive back to Padre Aviles was not an easy one. Andalusian motorways are clearly not designed to cope with much rain, and as it poured down, we found ourselves driving through sheets of water. W, at the wheel, said he'd never seen anything like it, and the risk of aquaplaning was very high. Meanwhile the Spanish drivers flew past us as though the road was bone dry.

It took us two hours to get back onto the mountain road up to our accommodation. By this point the rain had stopped... but the fog had rolled in and it was my turn to be scared as we drove up the steep, hairpin bends unable to see more than a couple of metres in front of the car. Out of the gloom, a van suddenly emerged with no lights on at all, not helping my nervous disposition.

I was convinced that at any minute we'd veer off the road and plunge down the mountainside but W was calm and we eventually found the turn-off to Padre Aviles, and made our way back safe and sound.


<b>Garbanzos con espinacas</b> (my recipe, based on my mum's recipe)

1 cup frozen chopped spinach, thawed and drained (you can use fresh, but I'm too lazy to wash it and the frozen kind works just fine!)
1 can chickpeas, drained
2-3 cloves of garlic, sliced
1 handful fresh breaddcrumbs (or 1 slice bread, torn into small pieces)
large pinch freshly ground cumin
pinch freshly ground coriander
pinch smoked paprika (pimentón dulce)
2 teaspoons sherry vinegar
Olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

Cover the base of a pan with olive oil and, over a low heat, gently brown the garlic and bread. When it's just coloured, take the pan off the heat and remove the bread and garlic with a slotted spoon and place in a mortar or heavy bowl, along with the vinegar, cumin and coriander. Using a pestle or wooden spoon, mash up the garlic, bread and spices into a paste. Return the pan to the heat and add the paprika, followed by the paste and the spinach and mix well. Add the chickpeas and cook gently for around 10 minutes till the flavours have mellowed. Season to taste and serve as a tapa or starter.

amsdon

What a charming report and delicious too!!!I love the recipe idea Hanl...Great writing.

ekscrunchy

I am late to the party again, but I want to thank you for this report. I will again be following in your footsteps--to GRanada this time, so it is timely for me, as well as beautifully written and descriptive.