Monthly Archives: April 2016

Ocios al aire libre

A week ago I took a bus to the village of Beas de Granada with some American friends, then we walked 16k back to Granada. We congratulated ourselves several times for picking the perfect day.desde Beas de Granada hacia la Sierra Nevada

cactus de agave


This plant (mustard?) was blooming on the plains along the Río Darro, along with the occasional red poppy and other spring flowers.


Last weekend we biked into the vega with another family to have lunch on a patio overlooking asparagus fields.


The restaurant occupies an old farmhouse. It was such a beautiful day, all the diners chose to sit outside.

Sheep and goat crossing near the restaurant  (0:21)

recorrido en bici

Biking back toward Granada. The Sierra Nevada mountains still have some snow, but it’s going fast.


Yesterday I hiked with some Americans in the Lecrin Valley south of Granada, where a microclimate is perfect for growing oranges.

Bees (0:03)

la flor del naranjo

The scent? Meh. Probably just what heaven smells like.


Use your imagination here: orange blossoms, poppies, dappled sunlight, the faint hum of bees and chirping of birds…

cerca de Melegís

acequia en Melegís

Snow melt flows along this irrigation channel in the village of Melegís

migas con peces y morcilla

Fancy migas (fried bread crumbles)

Ropa para milenials

Just like in the U.S., clothes shopping in Granada is oriented toward men and women in their teens and 20s. In addition to the skinny jean there’s a super skinny jean, both of which can be dressed up with a t-shirt bearing a random statement in English. Here’s a sampling:


Forest Creatures

I am working
On myself
For myself
By myself

Given the slim pickings, I now have a capsule wardrobe and am expecting my American jeans to literally disintegrate before I can find replacements. Thanks, fashion industry!

Springtime in Alabama

yemasI think I’ve put the pieces together: our neighbors insisting that cateto (redneck) is a word we need to know; Granadinos apologizing to us for the strong local accent and for the supposed number of people who “speak really badly”; a history of economic underperformance relative to other parts of Spain; the warmth and friendliness we encounter every day; the South.

When Spaniards tell us that our son sounds like a local and we blush with unearned pride, it’s probably akin to Spanish parents hearing, “Wow, your kid sounds like he’s from Alabama!”