A Night of Flamenco

Hello FindPenguinites! I am here at my very small keyboard my iPhone with a new post. I had not written as Monday there was little to convey and Tuesday a Chicago friend arrived for a short visit.
Wednesday I was up early for my personal training workout. My trainer keeps pushing m limits with higher intensity workouts. However, he does not dare make me do burpees. Later this morning Mar the condo manager was to bring mybtrain ticket she had printed for my trip to Seville. She is so sweet. She also brought small round custard filled pastries baked this time of year in celebration of Easter.
After she left we took public transit to the Sixt branch to pick up the rental car. I was expecting an Audi A3 we’re offered a BMW X2 but drove away in a new Peugeot 3008 SUV. Nice vehicle except for the numb steering response. Otherwise functional.
It was 1:30 for our drive NE to the City of Granada A hour and a half trip. Great driving on the autopista across mountain tops and through some long tunnels. Scenery was majestic with the snow capped Sierra Nevada mountains in the distance framed by the bluest of sky. The surrounding hills and slopes dressed with orchards of olive trees.
I had a reservations at the Alhambra Palace Hotel located at the foot of the El Alhambra historic site.
At 6:30 in evening we took a long downhill walk into the Albaicin area of the city to see a flamenco show. The Albaicin is the old Jewish quarter of Granada.
I have seen flamenco on previous trips always enjoying them. The most innovative was the Dracula story by a touring flamenco troupe in Miami Beach. This show like the others was filled energy and emotion. The performers especially the woman dancer conveyed such great feeling. Her dark eyes piercing into ours as we sat spellbound by her movements, the communicative strength of her heeled dance shoes striking the wooden floor with force. Her arms waving around her sculpted face while her fingers snapped with the rhythm of the dance.
Then there was the singer/poet/storyteller with a mane of peppery curly locks singing with a deep voice whose words faded in memories of the past. These words s string of mellifluous beads reverberating through the subterranean vault that my Apple Watch warned me of dangerous high decibels. Well having hundreds of rock concerts it didn’t concern me.
I was lucky to understand what he sang. One song of everyday life about his daughter and he sailing on a paper ship to build a mountain home for them, his guitar and dog. Some songs sad tales while other songs about friendship, brotherhood and God. All these songs carrying the gypsy culture from which they arose. Touching, warm, beautiful but with the force of a wandering people.
There was also the masterful guitarist who working the string retelling an obvious story. It too held the same emotional impact as the singer and dancers. And lastly the male dancer with strength in body language who like the woman could whirl in a new direction in keeping with the story, the clapping, and rhythm of the guitar.
The show lasted an hour . The tiny vault filled with applause as the performers bowed and exited the stage.
We were energized but now faced the steep uphill climb to the hotel.
It was cold and I was wearing a short sleeve polo nearly shivering in the 50 degree evening temperature. But bounded by towering evergreens and two channels of running water we climbed. The rushing rivulets induced a meditative state that temporarily encapsulated me against the cold brushing my bare arms.
Tomorrow the tour of El Alhambra almost 20 years to the day I first visited Granada.Read more