Inside the Alhambra. Granada, Spain.
I asked a few of my friends and loved ones about their favorite healing places.
This is one of the responses I received.
Written by Elle North // drawingwithin.com
I pretty much came out of the womb with a strange and strong desire to learn and speak Spanish. I learned how to read in English at an early age, and remember exactly where the learn-to-speak Spanish books where in my library when I was about 4 years old. I would listen to Spanish cassettes. I would watch the Spanish channel on TV. You could say I was obsessed.
My path to Spanish was a long one: I didn't take my first Spanish class until high school at age 14. It was my favorite class. Fast forward to my college orientation: I happened to be in the right place at the right time and randomly took an unplanned Spanish test. I placed in the Advanced level, and decided to take one Spanish course a semester, which lead me to an unexpected Spanish major, and the opportunity to study abroad in Granada, Spain.
I was absolutely elated to be able to go to Granada, even though I had never heard of it before. Granada is the home of the Alhambra, a fortress-turned-palace that was built in 889. When you search for photos of Granada, the Alhambra is inevitably what you will see. When I finally arrived in Spain, the Alhambra greeted me. It sits upon one of the many hills of Granada, overlooking a sea of white houses where the scent of olive oil hangs in the air almost constantly. Surrounding the Alhambra is perhaps the only woods-type area in the whole city, which fueled my longings for New England autumn while I was studying there. As frequently as I could, I would walk to the Alhambra, hike up the hills, walk around its walls, go into all of the parts that were open access as much as possible. I'd bring my sketchbook, draw the slants and curves of architecture, the gathering of people, the tiny houses in the hillside. I'd listen to music on my portable CD player, PJ Harvey's Is This Desire album was pretty much my soundtrack for the trip.
One day at the Alhambra that sticks out in my mind is when I was sitting on a wall with my best friend (she came along with me to Spain), listening to PJ Harvey, enjoying the crisp November air. I felt so alive, so at peace, so at home. I felt like this was an important place. We stayed there for hours, my friend and I, watching people, drawing, writing poems, listening, chatting, sipping tea. I was so happy to be in this place, absorbing the culture, learning about not only Spain and the language but also myself. On this day in particular, I found a small heart shaped rock. I knew this heart rock was important: I knew it signified love, a true love. At the time, I was dating someone who was still living in the States...and when I saw this heart shaped rock, I knew it wasn't for him. We broke up soon after I returned home.
Exactly four years after this event, on November 1, 2008, I found myself back at the Alhambra with the man of my dreams. We had met that February, and before March came along we decided to travel to Spain together so that I could go back to this place that was so dear to my heart. When we arrived in Granada together, we set our bags down at our hostel and took a walk to the Alhambra. We walked around the surrounding woods and walls, and made plans to return in a couple of days. On our return, we toured the entire structure. At closing time, we wandered out into an area surrounded by a low wall, overlooking the surrounding villages. The place where I found the heart rock. On a bench, the same bench I had drawn on that day four years ago (I have the drawing saved in a sketchbook), my love asked me to sit down. He got down on one knee, and proposed to me. I had no idea it was coming, that this would be the place that love would speak to me in this way. The place where I had found the heart shape rock almost exactly 4 years before (I looked back at my sketchbook, which was dated 11-6, so less than week's difference).
Since that day in 2008, I have not been able to return to the Alhambra physically...but I do mentally, all of the time. It fills my senses: I can smell the dust and olive oil, feel the heat of the sun and the dry wind, see the beige, white, rust, and olive colors that swim there, feel the sand on that wall that I would sit on, and hear the chatter of people who would sit on those benches, eating tomato sandwiches. And there, I feel complete. I feel at home. I feel healed and fulfilled. I will go back, sit on that wall and sit on that bench. I will be with my love, and we will just sit together, enjoying the feeling of being together.
Written by Elle North // drawingwithin.com
My path to Spanish was a long one: I didn't take my first Spanish class until high school at age 14. It was my favorite class. Fast forward to my college orientation: I happened to be in the right place at the right time and randomly took an unplanned Spanish test. I placed in the Advanced level, and decided to take one Spanish course a semester, which lead me to an unexpected Spanish major, and the opportunity to study abroad in Granada, Spain.
I was absolutely elated to be able to go to Granada, even though I had never heard of it before. Granada is the home of the Alhambra, a fortress-turned-palace that was built in 889. When you search for photos of Granada, the Alhambra is inevitably what you will see. When I finally arrived in Spain, the Alhambra greeted me. It sits upon one of the many hills of Granada, overlooking a sea of white houses where the scent of olive oil hangs in the air almost constantly. Surrounding the Alhambra is perhaps the only woods-type area in the whole city, which fueled my longings for New England autumn while I was studying there. As frequently as I could, I would walk to the Alhambra, hike up the hills, walk around its walls, go into all of the parts that were open access as much as possible. I'd bring my sketchbook, draw the slants and curves of architecture, the gathering of people, the tiny houses in the hillside. I'd listen to music on my portable CD player, PJ Harvey's Is This Desire album was pretty much my soundtrack for the trip.
One day at the Alhambra that sticks out in my mind is when I was sitting on a wall with my best friend (she came along with me to Spain), listening to PJ Harvey, enjoying the crisp November air. I felt so alive, so at peace, so at home. I felt like this was an important place. We stayed there for hours, my friend and I, watching people, drawing, writing poems, listening, chatting, sipping tea. I was so happy to be in this place, absorbing the culture, learning about not only Spain and the language but also myself. On this day in particular, I found a small heart shaped rock. I knew this heart rock was important: I knew it signified love, a true love. At the time, I was dating someone who was still living in the States...and when I saw this heart shaped rock, I knew it wasn't for him. We broke up soon after I returned home.
Exactly four years after this event, on November 1, 2008, I found myself back at the Alhambra with the man of my dreams. We had met that February, and before March came along we decided to travel to Spain together so that I could go back to this place that was so dear to my heart. When we arrived in Granada together, we set our bags down at our hostel and took a walk to the Alhambra. We walked around the surrounding woods and walls, and made plans to return in a couple of days. On our return, we toured the entire structure. At closing time, we wandered out into an area surrounded by a low wall, overlooking the surrounding villages. The place where I found the heart rock. On a bench, the same bench I had drawn on that day four years ago (I have the drawing saved in a sketchbook), my love asked me to sit down. He got down on one knee, and proposed to me. I had no idea it was coming, that this would be the place that love would speak to me in this way. The place where I had found the heart shape rock almost exactly 4 years before (I looked back at my sketchbook, which was dated 11-6, so less than week's difference).
Since that day in 2008, I have not been able to return to the Alhambra physically...but I do mentally, all of the time. It fills my senses: I can smell the dust and olive oil, feel the heat of the sun and the dry wind, see the beige, white, rust, and olive colors that swim there, feel the sand on that wall that I would sit on, and hear the chatter of people who would sit on those benches, eating tomato sandwiches. And there, I feel complete. I feel at home. I feel healed and fulfilled. I will go back, sit on that wall and sit on that bench. I will be with my love, and we will just sit together, enjoying the feeling of being together.
Written by Elle North // drawingwithin.com
Do you have a story about your favorite healing place?
Feel free to email it to me at miriam.carl@yahoo.com
I may decide to feature it on Part 2 of this series!
Feel free to email it to me at miriam.carl@yahoo.com
I may decide to feature it on Part 2 of this series!
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