Granada
Arriving in Spain felt like coming home.
I have two older brothers. But growing up, I always felt like my oldest cousin, Valerie was the sister I needed. She was so patient with me; especially since I was the youngest of the cousins. I have vivid memories of painting our toenails lakeside at the cottage. Playing hide and go seek in the forests. Catching frogs and observing tadpoles. I remember swinging in the hammock, and sitting in her lap as she read me books.
She grew up and met a Spaniard; moved to Granada, got married and lived happily ever after. They visited as often as they could, but our reunions were short and spread thin between the whole family. They consisted of many open invitations to their home, good food and lots of stories.
After 10 years or so of not seeing my eldest cousin, walking into Spain it felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
As I watched my cousin walk towards me at the airport, it took every ounce of my strength to keep from bursting into happy tears. I was here, I was finally visiting her after years of saying “one day”.
The drive from Malaga was stunning. Rolling hills, beautiful white-painted villages tucked into their sides and countless olive groves lead the way to Granada.
After settling into my immaculate room filled with more amenities than a luxury hotel, the whole family headed out to the city for some tapas.
Now that’s a concept I can get behind. 2.5 euros for a good drink and appetizers!? Have a few of them and you’ve got yourself a meal!
We got caught up on life, and chatted about our work – they’re both business owners – their kids, and my trip so far.
It was the perfect night to be introduced to Spain.
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Having just left Morocco, it was fascinating to see the intwined history it shares with Southern Spain.
The old downtown of Granada holds a rich history deeply influenced by its location in the region of Andalusia, which was once under Moorish rule. This historical background has contributed to the fusion of Spanish and Moroccan cultures, creating a unique atmosphere in the city.
This Moorish influence can still be seen today in the architecture, design, and overall ambiance of the old downtown area. The connection with Moroccan culture can also be observed in the traditional sweets shops that pepper the streets of Granada. These sweets shops, reminiscent of those in Moroccan medinas, offer a delightful array of delicacies that reflect the fusion of culinary traditions. Here, you can find honey-drenched pastries, almond-based sweets, and fragrant desserts flavoured with rosewater or orange blossom.
I loved exploring the old downtown of Granada, wandering through narrow streets, stumble upon hidden squares, and witness the architectural marvels that merge Spanish and Moorish influences. The vibrant atmosphere, infused with the colours, scents, and sounds made me feel so welcome.
It’s a place where past and present coexist harmoniously, it’s a fascinating blend of cultures to be explored and savoured.
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Beer in Spain hits different.
My second day was spent strolling through Granada with my cousin. Catching up on life and business, we grabbed lunch and shared some drinks.
I am not much of a beer drinker. However, the Spanish have so many options to choose from that it was difficult to resist. I found my favourite being clara. A half-and-half mixture of light beer and lemon fanta. It’s delightfully refreshing and easy to sip on on a hot day.
Gossiping about our lives and getting to know my cousin again after so many years spent apart was healing. My inner child was so happy to be sitting on a patio with her. The years spent telling each other “one day” when her husband would insist I come visit were finally over. I was finally here, and I couldn’t have been more grateful.
We ate amazing food, and I took in all the sights. Walking through the city that captured her heart was surreal. With the food, the company, the slower way of living, the kind people; I could understand why she decided to come to Spain.
10/10 would recommend spilling tea with your cousin in Spain over clara.
Montefrio
I grew up revering National Geographic.
My father collected the magazines for years and I have vivid memories of spending hours sitting on the floor, a million issues spread out around me, combing through them.
It’s likely the reason for my obsession with travel and photography. I always knew I wanted to experience the world and it’s rich cultures.
So when my cousin mentioned that we were visiting a small town where her husband grew up, named “one of the world’s best views” by @natgeotravel, little did she know she was fuelling my childhood fantasies.
Montefrío sits nestled between olive fields in the Andalusian countryside. It’s about 60 kilometres from Granada, and severely underrated for tourism.
It’s well worth the visit, National Geographic never fails me.
There’s something about a small European town with a castle that has me in a chokehold.
Montefrio was no exception. It’s a small town nestled in the in Andalusian countryside. It is perched on a hilltop, offering stunning panoramic views. The history of Montefrío dates back thousands of years, with evidence of human settlements in the area since prehistoric times.
Today, it’s known for its picturesque setting, rich historical heritage, and charming character. Visitors are drawn to its well-preserved architecture, including the impressive Church of La Encarnación and the Moorish fortress known as the Castillo de Montefrío.
Montefrio’s unique beauty has earned it the title of “one of the most beautiful villages in the world” from National Geographic.
The small town is where my cousin’s husband grew up. His mother still has a home in the city. I got to meet his lovely mother who welcomed me with open arms and more food than I could ever consume. We needed our day-trip by visiting family nearby and picking fresh vegetables amid the endless olive tree groves.
With one final stop by the side of the road for some nighttime photos of this stunning town, my heart was forever captured by montefrio’s charm.
Salobrena
This coastal town is the starting point for a love story that spans three cities in Spain.
I’ll get back to that briefly, but I want to highlight my time there first. We packed up the family for a day trip to the beach.
The drive down was filled with stunning views of rolling hills with white-capped houses nestled into them and endless olive groves. Once we arrived, we grabbed lunch, sipping on mojitos and munching on crepes before heading to the water. The beach was almost empty since the crystal blue waters were a little rough, and tourists dislike the natural beaches filled with pebbles rather than sand. But the sun was shining high, so we jumped right in.
We spent the rest of our afternoon exploring the rocky shoreline before heading home with a slight sunburn and salt in our hair. It was the perfect day to spend by the water with family.
While we didn’t climb the town’s narrow streets to the Castillo, that’s where the famous love story of the Three Princesses starts.
A tyrant King had triplets in Granada but was told by an advisor that should the girls marry, it would be the downfall of his kingdom. So, he sent them off to grow up in the seaside town of Salobreña, away from the city. Zayda, Zorayda, and Zorahayda grew into their beauty year after year under the cloudless skies in the Castillo of Salobreña, waited on hand and foot by female attendants.
One day, the girls heard a commotion. Moorish soldiers had brought Christian prisoners to the Castillo. Among them were three Spanish cavaliers. Having been attended to by women their whole lives, the princesses were instantly taken with the prisoners. They were young, handsome, well-dressed and carried themselves with noble presence despite their shackles and chains.
Meanwhile, the King in Granada feared his daughter’s beauty would capture a man’s heart unless the girls were under his watchful eye. So he sent for them to be brought back to the Alhambra.
The story continues there – in the stunning fortress on a hilltop in Granada.
Granada – Alhambra
The Alhambra traces its origins back to the mid-13th century. Wandering through the halls and courtyards of this palace is like stepping into a living history book, where every detail speaks volumes about the past of Andalusia.
Walking through the whole site, I couldn’t help but wonder about the mysterious legends and historical events that unfolded within the carved walls; which brings me to the second instalment of the Love Story from my previous post.
We last left the story when the three princesses spotted handsome prisoners being brought to their castle in Salobrena. Their father, the King, feared their beauty would capture a man’s heart – which had been fated by the stars to be the downfall of his kingdom. So he sent for them to be brought back to the Alhambra.
Once brought back home, the girls were given silks, sweets and rose gardens as gifts from their father. But they were restless. While they meandered about the beautiful palace grounds, they couldn’t stop thinking about the captured Moorish soldiers they had spotted. Zaida, Zorayda, and Zorahida grew melancholy.
After the soldiers had been released as prisoners, they made their way to the Alhambra, where they heard rumours of three princesses pining for them. They found the girls and began clandestine affairs, hiding from guards and climbing the towers at nightfall to spend time with them. They all began a plan to escape, it had to be perfect, orchestrated with care and done at just the right time.
The night of the escape, the girls made their way out of their rooms in the cover of darkness under a waning moon. Zorahida, the youngest, hesitated infront of the rose bushes her father had planted. After much urging from her sisters, they finally met with their Soldiers outside the walls and made their way to get married in Cordoba.
But maybe Zorahida should have listened to her instinct… Love would ultimately be her downfall.
Cordoba
The final piece of our infamous Three Princesses love story ends in this beautiful city. I spent a evening exploring it’s charming streets, the beautiful mosque and indulging in delicious food.
We last left when the three sisters fled Granada with their Moorish love affairs. They made their way to Cordoba on horseback, where the men had found a rogue priest willing to marry them.
Tragically, on the way, Zorahida perished a terrible death. It’s still not clear what caused her demise, but it’s hypothesized that she drowned crossing a river, her stolen silks weighing her down. While the remaining sisters were successful in marrying their soldiers once they reached Cordoba, they never recovered from losing their dear sister.
Back in Granada, the rose bush where Zorahida hesitated on the last night of her short life is said to bloom on the same night under the moon every year.
Moclin
When I first started dreaming about travel, I had a vision of running through abandoned castles in an extravagant gown.
I wanted to live in the fantasy novels I obsess over so much and imagine I was a rogue princess on the run. I made this information known, it became this quirky dreams my friends found endearing.
But when I told my cousin I would finally be visiting her in Spain, she went on a MISSION to find me abandoned castles near Granada. She even called me months prior to my trip to chat logistics and figure out exactly what I had envisioned.
She made the dream happen.
Nestled into the rolling hills of Andalusia lies the Castillo de Moclín. A castle that sits on the hilltop of a beautiful town. It was constructed in the 13th century to defend the kingdom of Granada. It was besieged constantly for two hundred years but eventually fell to catholic monarchs in 1346.
So, I spent my afternoon traipsing through a 750-year-old castle, and it was the highlight of my life.
Southern Spain
My biggest takeaway was that Spain felt like coming home. Not in the sense that it was similar to Canada, but in the feeling of being welcomed and embraced.
My cousin and her beautiful family had a big part in that feeling. Getting to chat about life, business and love with them while exploring Andalusia was a privilege I will never forget. Regardless, Spain holds a special place in my heart.
The way Spaniards live is something I will chase for the rest of my life. The slower pace, the prioritization of quality time and the work-life balance still baffle me. My hometown is a government city, where most work 9-5, go home and destress by watching the latest show and hibernating. Spaniards would rather go out into the city and share time with loved ones over tapas, go for a short hike in the hills with their family, or generally spend quality time with each other. We need more of that in our lives.
Every person, whether they were strangers or family, made me feel welcome. With its delicious food, rich history, impeccable architecture and endless olive groves, it was hard to leave behind.
I understood why my cousin moved there when she fell in love with her husband. Leaving them was so, so difficult. I struggled to keep my emotions in check on my last night, walking through the olive trees with my cousin and then again, the entire drive to the airport with her husband. It felt like I was leaving a piece of my heart behind. Even knowing that countless adventures awaited me in my next leg, I couldn’t help but wonder when I could return.
10/10 would recommend exploring southern Spain. I don’t know when, but I know I’ll be back again.
It was never really goodbye, after all.