The temperature is reaching almost 30 degrees when we arrived in Alhambra. I can see a lot of people enjoying the sunshine the Costa Del Sol is known for. The place was like a Sunday Market and every race in the world is represented today;segregated by color, united by one goal--to the see famous, almost mythical Palace.
We were starving after having driven almost another hour from Sierra Nevada. Satellite suggests we have lunch. I don´t feel like eating still but Alhambra is a vast palace and I need some energy or I might just lie breathless after another hour or so.
We check out the nearby restos. Everything´s full especially the terrazas where you can have a nice view of the area while devouring paella or something.
We pick a restaurant called La Yedra Real. It is a typical Spanish restaurant and not that full. I get alarmed. So-so people means so-so food. Still, we don´t have any options.
We sit on the terrace five minutes after a group left. As my patient companion checks the menu, I pulled out a cigarrete. 30 seconds after, a waiter arrives.
¨Perdona Señor pero no se puede fumar aqui, eh?!¨ (I am sorry mister but you can´t smoke here).
The food was not orgasmic at all. Satellite´s lamb chops are soggy and my pork fillets are tough. I was right. It was so-so. Catered for the tourists who don´t know any difference.
Two British men sit on the table beside ours. They are huge. They look like dodgy businessmen / with their big smoky spectacles, beard and huge bellies with books on their hands. While waiting for their order, they read a map of the place and GLANCE at me. I catch them glancing / staring at me for more than three times now. I get conscious and irritated. They must be wondering how I came to Spain. If I was transported illegally by boat along with hundreds of Nigerians and Africans who alight every single day in the coast or if I was smuggled in a filthy tanker ship inside a fake Luis Vuitton suitcase. Or they just wonder how stunning I am. Either way, I am uncomfortable with how they check me out.
From the terraza, I see three buses filled with filthy rich Japanese tourists. I decide to make a little drama.
¨Satellite, do you think MY JET would make it back home to Japan at 7pm tomorrow morning if we leave here in two hours? I have to see the Prime Minister tomorrow for this project he was insisting me to do¨. I made sure they heard it.
They stare at me. I stare back. Their eyes drop down to their maps.
We decide to move on with the trip. The entrance to the whole place is lovely. Tall pine trees and well manicured plants lined the pathway welcoming the visitors who willingly paid 10 euros just to see the mythical ruins.
It is 3:30 pm and our tickets are for 5 pm. A couple more hours to kill. We sit on a bench beside a kiosk. As I am sipping on my fuzzy drink and Satellite on his whiskey, the sun shines like it has never been in the past few weeks. The heat is intense and I can feel GLOBAL WARMING on my shoulders. Yes, it is not normal that the weather in the month of March is like this. People are supposed to still be using heaters and Eskimo type coats at this time of the year but as I see now, everyone´s sweating.
I am getting bored. We take a walk and did some more picture takings. Satellite is getting impatient, but I don´t care. KODAK moments should be taken advantaged of.
It is 5pm and at last, we are going to enter the Palace. I am excited. The queue is long. A German couple are infront of me with their video camera scanning the whole place while a pair of French lovers are exchanging sloppy kisses behind me.
Words are not sufficient in this blog to describe the beauty that Alhambra truly is. The view from the top of the Palace is amazing. You can practically see the whole Costa Del Sol!
As we continue, the paths are getting higher and the cobbled stoned ground is beginning to make it difficult for me to walk because of my foot accident not long ago.
I take a sip from my bottled water when I feel something wrong on my balance. I have no balance. There is a crevice on the ground and I just slipped on it falling ...on my bad sprained foot!!!
For the second time in my life, I see stars again. White pain shoots up my head and I cannot breath.
Satellite quickly moves to catch me but it was too late, I am down on the ground.
I ask him to pull my foot gently hoping that whatever misalignment of cartilage would be put in place. He pulled it...painfully..then we hear a CRACK!
Oh God, I feel like I am dying.! I could not move and cold sweats cascade down my brows. Two German ladies suggests (in the most incomprehensible German-Spanish attempt) that I should lay my foot on the nearby bench so I did.
All my patience and my good humor is lost now. I suggest that we go home after being inside the palace for 20 minutes. He agrees. He is trying to calm me down by saying nonsense.
I tell him he could help by shutting his mouth up.
He drives without a word. I don´t wanna know either.
Slowly, I close my eyes. With my right foot throbbing, I dream of the