Sunday, June 20, 2010

Holy giant geranium, Batman!

Today we traveled from Granada to Nerja on the Mediterranean coast. Along the way I noticed all the plants on the roadsides and in courtyards.
Lots of vines. Bougainvillea covered entire walls and so thick with purple flowers that no green could be seen. Jasmine crawling it's way up and across stucco walls, filling the air with it's delightfully sweet perfume. Plumbago flopping over the top of a wall in a cloud of blue.
And all the plants are huge! Not just the height, but the leaves, flowers, everything. Lantana is as big as a dogwood and is used for hedges! Oleander is a large shrub, grows wild and is planted on roadsides like sumac.
And the wild geranium. Yes, wild. A patch of it was on the shore between the sidewalk and the rocks. I did a double-take. The leaves were as big as a maple's, had trunks 4 inches wide, and were as tall as me. I saw it and I still don't believe it.
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Oranges aplenty

Spain has the best orange juice. Every morning we watch our waitress put two orange halves in a huge stainless steel orange press and viola! Fresh orange juice!

But I started to wonder at how much it would cost the cafe owners; how many oranges do they go through in a day? How can they afford it? Then I saw that the oranges were much larger and juicier than the ones back home. One orange made enough juice for a large glass. What makes these oranges different?

Because orange trees line the streets. They are everywhere and used as ornamental trees. Ripe fruit falls to the ground and lays there. It seems like such a waste, but orange trees are as common as crabapples.

The cafes can afford mass quantities of oranges because they can go out the door and pick them. The fruit is larger and juicier because they are allowed to ripen on the tree. We, on the other hand, need our oranges shipped to us. Those oranges are most likely picked green and are therefore smaller, less juicy, and artificially ripened.

I plan to enjoy as much Spanish orange juice as I can drink.

If only we could find such a wonderful use for all our crabapples....
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Saturday, June 19, 2010

I should have been sultan

My husband and I are on vacation in Spain for two weeks. Our first stop is Granada. The first day was spent exploring the neighborhoods near our hostel, shopping and trying to not look like tourists.
Yesterday we went to the alhambra palace. This palace was the center of the moorish government when they occupied medieval Spain. Situated on the highest point in the city, la Alhambra is very impressive. Many have stated that the nasrid palaces - the royal residences - were the highlight of their visit. Oh, they were beautiful, no question and we enjoyed touring them. But the highlight of our visit, without a doubt, was the Generalife.
The generalife (hen-air-all-LEAF-ay) is a gardening and landscaping wonder. The sultan would come to this retreat after a long day of decisions, decrees and discussions to lose himself in the beauty of the countless gardens and courtyards.
Perfectly manicured hedges with perfectly sculpted arched doorways create a miriad of rooms, each with differently themed gardens. The arches and doors open to views the length of the garden or to sweeping vistas of la Alhambra, sometimes windowed in a hedge arch.
The ancient moors were masters of the water feature. Coming from a land where no water meant certain death and possessing abundant water displayed one's wealth, water was of immense importance. The moors employed the Roman aqueducts to bring water to the countless pools, fountains, rills and bubbling things throughout the complex. The sight and sound of water is everywhere. The most creative use of water is the water stairs. A long flight of stairs has a rill cascading down where the handrail should have been, carving out pools in the stone on landings before it tumbles down again.
As I wandered this oasis, I imagined the sultan wandering also, his head full of important royal thoughts, trying to find some peace from his stressful day. Perhaps he strolled down the arched colanade along a pool with happily splashing fountains while he confided his troubles in a trusted friend or sought counsel from his loyal vizir. All the while the soothing sound of water surrounds everything.
Oh yes, a person could get used to this.
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