My father doing his "mysterious" move, an inside joke from the flamenco performance we attended last night.
The bus ride to Granada went fast and without too much trouble. There were some people sitting in our seats when we got on board, and at first they didn't want to leave and they said we should just go and sit somewhere else since not all chairs were sold. It can be useful sometimes to pretend NOT to speak Spanish nor English at all :) I just stood there telling them in Flemish I didn't know what they were saying, and eventually they used gave up trying. Mean me, but whatever, numbered places are numbered places, and there was no way I would give away my window seat :)
The crap bus driver in Granada's city bus sold us a 8-ride ticket, yet couldn't explain why we needed to buy a card first and then load the 8 "rides" onto it. I understand it now, of course, but not when he was rattling the explanation to us in Spanish at the speed of an AVE train (stupid inside joke, I know). The card was 2 euro, the 8 trips 5 euro. We didn't need 8 trips at all, but that conductor spoke so damned fast I didn't understand a word of what he was saying, and he got really pissed of because I kept asking were the two euro charge came from. In the end I felt like shouting "Just give us three one way tickets and get this bus going you ***", but it was he that started swearing first. Asshole! We paid too much for something we didn't need at all, just because he refused to talk a little slower or even use simple sentences. What a "warm" welcome to Granada, that is yet still my favourite city as it feels like I come home when I walk true it :) And then to think there was a tourist information office inside the long distance bus station were they probably sold city bus tickets too...
Yet whatever, I wasn't going to have my mood spoiled by a bus conductor (of all people), and as the sun warmed my air-condition-frozen skin I just couldn't stop smiling, while we walked our way to the hotel.
The place was nice, small but nice, and the owners friendly. They hardly speak English, but that was ok, as I could manage the basics in Spanish. At first, the woman couldn't find our reservation in the computer, but just as we all started to panic a little ("No puede ser! Mire, tenomos una confirmación aqui") she found it. That's what you get with a Flemish name like ours. Spanish people don't know how to write it, and when they hear it, they can't pronounce it, and they don't know how the hell they typed it into the computer. It always turned out to be written soooo wrong (the worst one was Barruedem instead of Verheyden)!!! Next time I go to Spain, I'll call myself Ana Maria Tostado or something. That will do :)
We stayed in the area near Plaza Trinidad, but found ourselves Plaza Bib Rambla for diner. Pretty touristy, yet nice. We never discovered a square as lovely as Plaza Santa Ana in Madrid, but Bib Rambla was fine to hang around at night too. The restaurants here are cheap, not all as good as the other, but we never got disappointed and had a wonderful time here.