Granada, City of Synchronizations

On the 28th of December, I took the bus to Granada in the morning.

Isabel had moved a day earlier, away from the hostel, because she couldn't sleep well and needed a quieter place and too many people had joined her; she was right about that.

Sleeping in hostels is always tricky. A Spanish woman joined the room, she was a soldier and quite noisy. Also, a Filipino living in the USA joined the room; she was looking for work and spent hours talking on the phone in the bathroom.

Originally, I wanted to be by the sea for New Year's, but I also preferred somewhere less crowded. Since I couldn't book in advance, I had the problem of having to look for accommodation on site. I realized and felt that it was more difficult than I had expected here in Granada, because I hadn't considered that it was just before New Year's and it's hard to find something at this time.

I chose the mountains and the countryside because I expected more availability issues at coastal towns.

As I sat in the center on a bench, looking for hostels on the phone that weren't too expensive, I suddenly heard 'Hola '

I looked up and saw the boy coming from here on a bicycle in front of me and couldn't believe it. He had gone back the day before because he wanted to be home for New Year's. When he left, he gave me his number and told me to contact him when I'm here and that we would definitely meet there because you always run into each other. But I didn't expect it to happen so quickly.

'Hola' I replied joyfully and we chatted. It turned out that he was on his way to a job interview, but we could meet later.

'I'm here for a while anyway'

'Great, I'll come by here again in about 40 minutes. If you find something, tell me where you are'

Then he disappeared and I was happy to have met someone. What a coincidence.

I continued to look for accommodations and was (still) relaxed and in good spirits.

A woman sitting next to me was chain smoking and looked depressed. I smiled at her. I had noticed her when I sat down because she seemed lost. Different from me, at least in a different way than I had realized my own helplessness until now. I asked her if she was waiting for someone. We talked for half an hour, during which I learned that she had traveled here with her daughter, but she didn't leave the hotel room because she was depressed. She had planned the trip for a long time and was deeply disappointed, tears welled up in her eyes as she continued her story. All the money, but even worse, she was so excited about this trip and now she was here alone because her daughter wasn't walking around with her. I listened to her and said, 'It's not easy for you, I empathize with you, but don't think it's good for your daughter. Try to make the best of it. After all, she's here with you, that's probably a big step for her. Tell her in the evenings about all the beautiful things you've seen, and she will always be with you in her heart. You're not alone.' I don't know if that comforted her..., but that's what came to me in that moment and therefore I passed it on to her. Shortly after, my encounter returned and we went to a Moroccan snack bar and had lunch, it was very delicious.

Afterwards, he went his way and said again, if I really couldn't find anything, I should write to him. I thanked him and sat back outside and continued searching, went to a few places without success because everything was fully booked, until I finally went to a hostel with my heavy backpack, already tired and exhausted, which could be an option.

The receptionist was not particularly friendly from the beginning, arrogant and obviously not inclined to welcome me in any way. When it came to check-in and data collection, he didn't like that I stood up to him, and the conversation ended with me taking my things and standing outside the door before he could finish his sentence. This had been an option, but with all my love, I'd rather go back to the sea.

Back at the square and on the same bench as before, it was almost dark, after 7 hours of searching and still finding nothing, I decided to write to the boy from Granada.

Fifteen minutes later, I was in a taxi to his address, not far from the old town, 8 minutes by car. We drove along a long, never-ending street and stopped just before a supermarket. From there, I brought some bread and juice upstairs. Finally, I was in a place and charging my phone, which had only 5 percent left. I got a tea and we sat in the small, simply furnished room, chatted, and I tried to acclimate myself. He told me about his last yoga experience, something about his family, and what was important to him in life: being with oneself. Indian music was playing in the background. In the end, he showed me his certificate, which allowed him to be a yoga teacher. He had a good heart.

After a refreshing shower, we started the late evening with tapas, and then he showed me a club that was free and played really good music. We stayed there for three hours and danced almost constantly. He insisted on showing me his Granada. The insight was worth it, it was a beautiful and lively evening.

The next morning, I got up relatively early to be in a cheap hostel in time, which a friend had sent me.

I was only there briefly because I had been invited to a tour by the boy, along with his roommates, and the meeting was at 12 o'clock where we had seen each other yesterday. He wanted to go into nature.

There was no one at the hostel, but the door was open, so I called the number that was posted on a bulletin board, got information about where I could store my things, and after a quick shower, I headed back towards the city.

The five of us walked towards Paseo De Los Tristes, then turned right and above us appeared the Alhambra.

We all received a free tour with interesting information about it, which a tour guide couldn't have conveyed better.

The path led us even further and higher than the Alhambra.

We passed a large parking lot and walked up another level. There we took a break and enjoyed a fantastic view of the Alhambra.

Then we went even higher, for quite a while, until we saw the snow-covered mountains of the Sierra Nevada, beautiful. Orange trees, meadows, and colorful flowers surrounded us, the perfect place for a picnic.

Three hours later, when I was back down, the others wanted to stay longer, so I went up the opposite side to watch the sunset. It was another climb, not as high as before, but still half the way up. I found myself in the old Gitano (gypsy) neighborhood, with many small houses and quaint streets across from the Alhambra.

Arriving at the top, I enjoyed the wonderful view and half an hour later, I witnessed the sunset gently spreading over the city, as if it didn't want to disturb its beauty and the gracefulness of the Alhambra - beautiful.

Back at the hostel, satisfied and tired, I was alone for barely an hour, just out of the shower, assuming that I would be alone in the room that night, when the door opened and a young girl walked in.

She smiled and said 'Hello, Hola' Her eyes lit up with every word. I replied the same and we both sat on the edge of a bed and talked. She was traveling alone, from Tunisia, and her name was Melek. Her trip was almost over, her flight back to Tunis was on the 3rd of January. Since she couldn't speak any Spanish except for 'Hola', we spoke in English.

In the middle of the conversation and our mutual joy about this encounter, which happened with open hearts, there was a knock on the door, it was immediately opened, and Yousra, a young Moroccan woman, as she informed us a few minutes later, entered the room.

Melek and I looked at each other and both smiled, because the space for the new encounter opened up immediately, and when Melek asked what language she spoke and found out that Yousra was from Morocco, she was visibly delighted to finally meet a person who spoke French and Berber, as she was also a Berber.

The joy was mutual and they immediately started speaking in their language.

I listened and was happy for both of them. In between, I spoke Spanish with Yousra. She lives in Cadiz and studies biology there, among other things, and mentioned that she is only staying for one night to be home for New Year's. We looked at each other and it was clear that we wanted to be together and join her. 'What are you doing for New Year's?'

'I wanted to go to the sea, to Cadiz anyway, and you, Melek, you wanted to go to Madrid because of your flight back on the third, right?' 'Or we all go to Cadiz' Yousra agreed. Change of plans.

We spent the next day together, exploring the gardens and visiting an exhibition that showcased the Arab influences on the Berbers. Melek was delighted and explained everything to me.

In the afternoon, Yousra went to the bus terminal to catch her bus, and Melek and I later watched the sunset again from Mirador San Nicolas, accompanied by live flamenco music. Then we walked down the hill into the city and I received a message from Ana, the Chinese girl who was also in Granada, asking if we wanted to meet for dinner.

Half an hour later, we were all sitting in my favorite tapas bar: Melek, Ana, and I, talking and laughing a lot. The energy was right even now, coincidences, and when Melek asked Ana what she was doing for New Year's and she said she didn't know yet, fate took its course. An hour later, we all took the bus to the terminal to buy tickets to Cadiz for the next day - we could have stayed there.

We took a taxi and late in the evening, we first stopped at Ana's hostel, then went to ours. We had 7 more hours until we would see each other again to go to Yousra's place together.

Granada, City of Synchronizations