Granada, white streets facing red walls
Granada is two hills looking at each other. On one, the Alhambra. On the other, the Albaicín, white and steep, where I drank café con leche on a small terrace and watched the palace walls turn from pink to red. My calves filed a formal complaint by the second morning.
I took the first entry into the Nasrid Palaces and had a few minutes almost alone with the carved plaster and the long reflecting pool. At sunset I joined everyone else at Mirador de San Nicolás, which is crowded for a reason. I walked the steep path to Sacromonte, ate dinner in a cave with no corners, and came back down through the Alcaicería as the lanterns came on. Granada does not do flat.

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