Our first days in the Albayzin were ones of amazement.  We approached the alleyways, secret fountains, and cobble stoned streets with wonder.  We avoided the dog poo and the darting scooters with newfound artistry.  Church bells rang throughout the Albayzin at various times, but never precisely on the hour.  Dogs barked, tourists called out to each other, and children’s voices pattered in perfectly executed Spanish.  These kids were only five, four or three years old, and yet they had somehow mastered use of reflexive pronouns, irregular verb forms, and use of the imperfect and pluperfect subjunctive.  Qué bueno!

We visited the Alhambra to tour Generalife and the Alcazaba.  This giant fortress sat atop Sabika Hill; it was a sentinel from the past that now provided the life blood of Granada.  We tried to find our little house as we looked down from Torre de la Vela, but to no avail.  Ours was just another white-washed, ocher-tiled casita on the hill, with a terrace, patio, grape arbor and fish pond.  Oh well.