After recovering from the exhausting trek through the Alhambra and across the Albaicín during the day, we ventured out in the evening for a taste of the city’s vibrant nightlife. And what flavor of entertainment should we savor, other than the signature entertainment form of Granada and indeed of all Andalusia, Gypsy Flamenco?
Oh, wait – I gather that using the term “gypsy” violates current norms of political correctness – one is supposed to say “Romani” instead. Unfortunately I find that term confusing because it implies an association with Rome, which is inaccurate. The Romani people came from India about 1000 AD, according to the best information we have, and have nothing to do with Rome, either ancient or modern. But I’m told they consider “gypsy” to be a racial slur, so I’ll use it sparingly.
After dinner at the El Ladrillo Seafood Restaurant near the Mirador de San Nicolas in Albaicín, we headed over to the neighboring Sacromonte quarter, where we were ushered into the Cueva de la Rocio – “Cave of the Dew” – literally a cave in the mountainside, in the form of a long tunnel with seats on both sides and the far end. Our group sat on one side of the hall while a group of Turkish tourists occupied the other side.
I have to confess that I am not an avid aficionado of dancing in general – my favorite dance music is Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony – so I’m not the best person to evaluate the quality of the performance that evening. I do like flamenco music, though, so it was not entirely lost on me.
The performance lasted several hours and took place in two acts – the first dominated by female performers, the second starring a male/female couple. The women dancers wore elaborate tight-fitting costumes, which accentuated the grace and skill of their movements. I found the sartorial choice of the man – I only remember one, though there may have been more – a bit puzzling; he wore regular street clothes with a tie, not tied but draped loosely around his neck. This seemed a bit odd to me, even out of place. (It would have been a mistake to wear a tie like this in pre-modern India, where the devotees of Kali, the goddess of death, would have found it an invitation to perform their sacrificial rites, which involved strangling travelers from behind. I am of course referring to the notorious Thuggee cult, which gave rise to the word “thug”. Perhaps the Romani people emigrated from India to escape the Thugs, since they originated there as members of a caste of traveling musicians and dancers.) I thought perhaps the gentleman who wore the tie in this fashion perhaps had mislaid his costume that evening – I fancy it would have resembled the clothing worn by a matador – and was doing the best he could to come up with a substitute. Regardless, he and his cohorts were not lacking in skill, and the evening passed quickly as they whirled the hours away.
At the end of the show we decamped and went back to the Mirador San Nicolas, where we enjoyed a night-time stroll around its plaza and bid farewell to the fair city of Granada.
The views of the city and the Alhambra from the Mirador at night were stunning and I could not get enough photos of them. The entire Alhambra and the Generalife were illuminated with floodlights, which made it easy to shoot even with a telephoto lens.
I was pleasantly surprised that I could take viable shots with my 70-200mm telephoto zoom lens without using a tripod; I had not brought mine since it was too heavy and awkward to carry around. Instead of a tripod, I rested the camera on the parapet of the Mirador, which did the job just as well.
We had packed a lot of activity into the single day we had to enjoy this dazzling city, the pearl of Andalusia, and in seeing the Alhambra I had realized the dream of a lifetime. Still I found myself wishing for more. But it was now quite late, and it was time to head back to the hotel for some sleep in preparation for an early morning departure for Gibraltar and the crossing of the Straits to the fabled cities of Morocco.