Lorca Day 1

I have always been a big fan of Federico Garcia Lorca as a poet, playwright, composer and martyr. He came from Granada so I had to take the opportunity of exploring his heritage in and around the city. I had seen the stunning Harriet Walter in The House of Bernarda Alba on stage and Glenda Jackson playing Bernarda in the film. And both Juliet Stevenson in a regular performance of Yerma followed by Bille Piper’s stunning portrayal in the adaption at the Young Vic showed the current relevance of Lorca’s work. l’m renting a car later in the week to visit his birthplace and early home in Fuente Vaqueros and Valderrubio but today is concentrated in the city itself. I decide not to breakfast in the Cafe Futbol again as I need to head off in the opposite direction. I do find the requisite juice and coffee but then get sidetracked on the way. I later discovered it was just as well as the FGL Centre doesn’t open until 11:00.

First I walk past this arched entrance which I discover is to El Corral de Carbon which dates from the early 1300s and was an al-fundaq – a corn exchange and lodging house for merchants bringing wheat to the city. It has a splendid courtyard with huge grape vines climbing up its pillars to form a canopy – sadly bare at this time of year.

Then I was back at the market – one of my weaknesses in any town or city. The Mercado de San Agustin did not disappoint with its superb seafood and ham stalls, lots of bars and lots of noise.

By now it is well past opening time and I set off for the first objective of the day. Spot the writer!

It took a long time and a lot of wrangling to get a centre to celebrate Lorca in his home province – Madrid and New York got there much earlier. This modern building houses the archive of his works that was assembled by family after a) his death, secretly and b) after Franco, more openly. There are thousands of manuscripts of plays, poems, songs and prose; extensive exchanges of correspondence with publishers and producers; recordings of poetry readings; many, many photographs and some video and the big surprise to me lots of his sketches and paintings. I knew he pretty much defined polymath but the paintings and drawings echoing Miro and Dali, Braque and Picasso had escaped my appreciation on previous encounters with his work.

The main display area is on the second or third basement floor – I stopped counting the steps – and has objects, dresses worn by Marianna Xirgu at the premieres of Bernarda Alba and Yerma and letters, press cuttings, brilliant period posters, photographs and the drawings.

I had just started to snap a few when a museum lady came to ask where I was from. She seemed delighted I was from Londres, But also told me photography was forbidden. So all I’ve got are his typewriter and his amazing signature.

I spent a couple of hours soaking up all this Lorciana during which time my appreciation for him grew even more – he was only 38 when they shot him so what might he have gone on to achieve? One of the posters was for a performance by his touring theatre group La Barraca which he founded to take drama to the villages and the people and an incarnation of which still exists. Dee and I saw them perform one of his farces, the very sexy Don Perlimplin in Ubeda a few – probably fifteen – years ago. We didn’t have much Spanish at the time but the action told the story very clearly as explained by the play’s subtitle “An erotic lace-paper valentine in three acts and a prologue”. Happy memories came back as I looked at a Barraca poster.

Fortunately I found a lift to take me from -3 to 0 which saved the legs doing all those stairs upwards. The outside world was perfect with sun, not a cloud to be seen and pharmacy signs indicating 16 degrees. Time for a stroll to the next location the Parque FGL about fifteen minutes away. As so often the walk passed through a couple of the delightful squares that seem to be a characteristic of Granada and indeed many Spanish cities. This one was Plaza Trinidad and there was a long queue for what was obviously a popular bakery kiosk and of course you can’t escape him for long in Granada.

A sense of déjà vu occurred as I crossed the Camino de Ronda where I’d changed buses on Sunday. I was soon at the entrance to the park which is extensive with a number of different areas.

It also contains the Huerta de San Vicente, the Lorca family summer home in Granada. It narrowly survived a demolition order in 1975 – was Granada still run by Francoists? But public outcry saved it and created the park around it. It’s now a museum but is closed on Christmas Eve but I may get back down later in the week.

I was moved to write a poem while in the gardens which I’ve shared with my BBPC colleagues but won’t bore you all with here. I walked back into the centre along Calle Recogidas another posh shopping street halfway along which I spied a rather nice looking courtyard in the sun – ideal for a beer – first of the day at 14:30 – call this holiday! The courtyard I discovered is part of a smart hotel Palacio de Los Patos in the Hospes hotel chain. We had stayed in one of these in Valencia a few years back ad had enjoyed it very much. But posh street, posh hotel. I could have stayed for 1.75 nights for the price I’m paying for seven nights at my Palacio de Las Navas. Maybe when I win the lottery! But they did give me a free tapa of couscous with seafood.

Patio at Palacio de Los Patos a bit earlier in the year (thanks Tenedor)

The street leads back to the Puerta Real which is close to home and I think about getting some lunch remembering that everything shuts in the evening on Christmas Eve in Spain. Lone eating is difficult when you occupy a table that could take two but on this day it was looney.

This was the state of one of the bars further up Calle Navas – utterly rammed – as were all the others and I received a lot of shaken heads and “lo siento“ responses. I eventually found a pizza place that could give me a pavement table and had a rather good ravioli with roquefort. I then repair to the grocery shop to get some cheese, ham and chorizo for an evening picnic as all the restaurants said they were going to close.

In the evening, Netflix told me a film I’d like was expiring on 31 December so I watched Todos lo Saben (Everybody Knows) a convoluted family drama and kidnap story with Penelope Cruz and Javier Bardem. It wasn’t brilliant but showed current village/small town life in a way I’m sure Lorca would have approved. Peasants not the posh centre stage.

Westward Ho! Whoa!

So, I leave the hotel in what I thought was good time to catch the 07:35 to Granada. However given the construction work around Atocha Station it’s quite a trek to get there. Then once inside it’s up an escalator, through a huge airport style mall and then an airport style baggage security check which I hadn’t been expecting. However I find seat 7 in coach 2 which I’d been told by train operator Renfe was a special seat with extra space and fewer passengers to ensure a quiet journey. All good you’d think. But just opposite was a family of four with one fairly studious 7 year-old boy but a totally fractious 3 year-old daughter who screamed pretty well non-stop except when being stuffed with food. Bliss! I then freaked out as the announcer said the next stop would be Cordoba. Now I know enough about Spanish geography to position Granada due south of Madrid with Cordoba a long way to the south west. It dawned on me that the AVE (high speed) routes were limited and that it made sense to first build tracks to serve Cordoba, Sevilla and Malaga direct and then construct a new west-east line through Andalusia. As it happens we had seen much of the construction work for this route when visiting friends who used to live in Antequera or renting a cottage in the hamlet of La Parilla, near Iznajar some years ago. Some familiar scenery flashed by as we raced across Andalucia.

However the train did arrive at Granada Station at the time predicted and apart from my neighbours it was a good trip – announcements in Spanish and English, a trolley coffee service (which I didn’t use as it was instant Nescafé – in Spain!) and was clean and comfortable.

My plan was to walk to a nearby bus stop and get a bus to within a five minutes walk of my hotel. Oops! Read the front of the bus more carefully, Michael – CENTRO CERRADO DESVIO POR CAMINO DE RONDA. It meant it wasn’t going anywhere near where I wanted to be but the excellent CityMapper told me where to get off and take another bus. It worked and I arrived much too early to check in but they kindly relieved me of my bags, took my passport and sent me off to explore.

It’s a very fine hotel converted from a sixteenth century palace but fortunately with a lift and modern plumbing and facilities. I selected it because my only prior knowledge of hotels in Granada was the magnificent Parador inside the Alhambra where Dee and I stayed many years ago. This one looked OK and was five minutes walk from lots of things I wanted to do. Arriving before check-in rather forces you to go and explore which I did with glee as Calle Navas where the hotel is located is in a pedestrianised street full of bars and restaurants.

Calle Navas

I was waylaid by the aroma of a decent coffee and then discovered that by walking straight up the road I was soon in the famous Plaza Bib Rambla said to be the heart of the city. And boy do they do Christmas here. A Christmas tree circus flying chair device, a cycle-powered traditional carousel and signs to Belens everywhere. These are the scenes of Bethlehem that are a tradition all over Spain. This one was in the splendid Town Hall building.

I found myself outside the market – Mercado de San Agustin which was still pretty lively on a Sunday afternoon and will be visited again. I did sit at a bar outside in bright sun where my phone said it was 17 degrees- oh that’s why I’m here. Looking at the competing menus displayed all around I chose a restaurant that served one of my favourite dishes aubergines with honey which I make myself quite often but this had the added benefit of being topped with miel de caňa which I can’t get in the UK. It’s black, not too sweet and made from sugar cane. My travels took me past the Cathedral, the Lorca centre I intend to visit on Tuesday – in common with most of the world it seems museums don’t open on Mondays – and onto the high-end shopping street Reyes Catolicos, which I skipped along not being much of a window shopper.

My one piece of shopping involved getting a protective sleeve to cover the dressing on my left leg so I could shower properly – in Madrid it had been an early morning struggle to keep it dry. Fortunately protect is protegir and bandage sounds pretty much like vendaje , so I emerge from the farmacia with just what I needed – and it worked well this morning by the way.

I went back to the hotel about five thirty where my luggage had already been taken to my very pleasant room and I spent a while unpacking, organising myself and taking a breather after a fairly hectic day. Post first day blog, read a bit of the Booker prizewinning Orbital and then it’s time to head out for dinner. There are lots of tourists so you can eat at any time you like really but the local families in the place I chose came in around nine to nine-thirty so a bit earlier than Madrid. It proclaimed to be famous for its croquetas so I ordered three filled with morcilla (black pudding) and caramelised onions. They were delicious and very filling so I had a small bowl of chips topped with freshly sliced ham and a spicy tomato sauce. I needed to walk off this repast so I headed off to the central area again to be blinded by the amount of sparkling lights strung across every main thoroughfare. They do do Christmas in Granada!

Back home for a little nightcap, a bit more book and a look forward to tomorrow’s trip to the Alhambra which I had pre booked with an English guide whereas our previous visit from the Parador allowed us to wander at leisure among those amazing palaces and gardens. Apparently you can still get day tickets but the queues are enormous. I’ll find out tomorrow.