Before Christmas I'd gone to the Arctic Circle for a weekend. I'd had a great time, but after only three days, the lack of daylight got to me and I felt that I would slip into a morbid depression if I didn't see the sun soon. I rebalanced myself by heading south after Christmas, to Granada.
The air was cool and fresh when I arrived. It may have been winter but it was warm enough to sit outside, and so I explored the cafes of the Albaycín, and found views over the city. I found my way to Plaza San Miguel Bajo. From here I could see most of the city, and the blue haze that was hanging over it.
On top of the hill opposite the Alhambra was the mirador de San Nicolás. It was full of crusties, juggling, selling handicraft, smoking and chilling. I went up there one evening to take photos of the city at night, and while I was there, two policemen appeared and started to walk slowly across the square.
Instantly the atmosphere turned incredibly hostile. All the crusties started jeering and whistling at the policemen. They didn't seem to mind too much, and carried on strolling past. Shouts and boos carried on until they got to the other side.
The square had been packed with tourists as well as crusties, but after the police had left, the tourists quickly dispersed.
I went to have a look at the Alhambra, but I didn't go in. I'd left it a bit late in the day, and anyway I am not particularly fussed about the insides of historic buildings. So I checked out the massive building from the parklands surrounding it, and then headed back down into town. I went back up to the mirador de San Nicolás at sunset. I didn't have long before my flight home, but I did have long enough to see the Alhambra lit up at dusk.