Shrimp Escabeche: A Tapas Treat

Looking for tapas recipes? This escabèche recipe features an aromatic marinade of olive oil, vinegar, garlic and oregano — a perfect tapa for turning any night of the week into a fiesta. 

Shrimp escabèche: a delicious cold seafood tapa

When the hot and sticky days of summer arrive in Chicago, I break out one of my tried-and-true tapas recipes. Pair this with patatas bravas, Manzanilla olives and cold bottles of Estrella or sangria for something muy auténtico.

Pair shrimp escabèche with patatas bravas for a mini tapas spread.

Escabèche is a pickling technique used to flavor and preserve food. This method is believed to have originated in Persia, derived from the word sikbāj, meaning “vinegar stew.” It was brought to Islamic Spain, or Al-Andalus, by the Moors, and later adopted by the Christians, who found it to be a good way to get around eating meat on Fridays during Lent. 

“Escabèche is a pickling technique brought to Spain by the Moors, and later adopted by the Christians, who found it to be a good way to get around eating meat on Fridays during Lent. ”

I love the marriage of garlic-infused olive oil and the tang of acid from the vinegar quick-pickled (or “quickled,” as Wally likes to say) red onions. They’re an ingredient we usually avoid, as we find their flavor to be too aggressive raw, but the quickling takes the bite out of the onions. 

The escabèche process is simple and never disappoints. Plus, all of the ingredients can be prepared ahead and assembled the next day. 

Pickled onions, peppercorns and shrimp combine into a tasty treat.

Shrimp Escabèche Recipe

INGREDIENTS 

• 1 small red onion

• ½ cup distilled white vinegar

• ¼ teaspoon dried oregano (preferably Mexican) 

• ⅔ cup extra-virgin olive oil

• 2 Turkish bay leaves or 1 California bay leaf

• 2 garlic cloves, smashed

• 1 teaspoon black peppercorns

• 1 pound raw, peeled and deveined shrimp

• Fine sea salt

Red onions, garlic, bay leaves, peppercorns, vinegar and shrimp: your ingredients for a simple, tasty tapas dish

PREPARATION 

Slice the onion in half and peel off the outer layer of skin. I like to use a mandolin, placing it on a cutting board. Be sure to use the slicing guard or a cut-resistant glove — these devices can be dangerous! Push the flat side of the onion away from you and repeat this motion with even pressure to keep slices consistent. If you don’t have a mandolin, just try to slice the onion as thin as possible.

Toss together the onion slices, vinegar, oregano and 1 teaspoon salt in a shallow glass or ceramic dish. These are non-reactive materials; if you use a metal dish, you’ll end up with a metallic-tasting tapa. 

Cover with plastic wrap and place in the refrigerator. 

Quickling the red onions takes the bite out of them.

Gently simmer the bay leaves, garlic and peppercorns in olive oil in a medium saucepan for 10 minutes until fully heated through. Remove from heat until ready to use. 

Add shrimp to a medium pot of boiling salted water (1 tablespoon salt for 2 quarts water). Remove from heat and let stand, uncovered, until just cooked through, about 5 minutes. 

Poached shrimp

Drain and then combine with the oil mixture in a medium bowl, stirring to evenly coat the shrimp. 

Wrap the bowl with plastic wrap and let the shrimp and infused oil mixture marinate in the refrigerator 12 to 24 hours before eating. 

Discard the bay leaves and plate the shrimp cold or at room temperature. 

Garnish with the onions and pickling liquid. 

We like to make sure you get some onions and at least one peppercorn with every bite. It’s the mix of flavors that makes this dish so tasty.

¡Buen provecho!

Note: The escabèche can be refrigerated for up to 5 days. –Duke

The Mind-Bogglingly Gorgeous Nasrid Palaces at the Alhambra

No trip to Granada is complete without a tour of the Palacio de los Leones and the Palacio de Carlos V. Learn the colorful history, which includes an explosion and a dinner party massacre.

The Patio de los Leones, with its namesake fountain

The impressive Alhambra complex in the charming town of Granada, Spain is a collection of palaces built at various times during its history. At the heart of the Nasrid Palaces complex is the Palacio de los Leones (Palace of the Lions). It’s likely that the structure was originally independent of the others, with the existing passage between the Comares Palace and the Palace of the Lions added sometime after the Muslim-ruled town of Granada fell to the Christians in 1492. 

This was our favorite part of the entire Alhambra complex.

Built at the peak of the Nasrid dynasty, the palace and cloister-like courtyard known as the Patio de los Leones (yes, you guessed it: the Patio of the Lions) was commissioned by Muhammad V during the second half of the 14th century, as a pleasure palace for the emir and his harem. 

What Islamic art lacks in depictions of living creatures, it more than makes up for in beautiful patterns.

“It was like something out of “Game of Thrones.”

The sultan invited the chief noblemen of the Abencerraje family to a banquet — and set about unceremoniously massacring all 36 of them.”

Delicate pillars frame restoration work.

The two main structures we’re covering in this post are:

• Palacio de los Leones

• Palacio de Carlos V 

The wall carvings in this section of the Nasrid Palaces are truly spectacular. Can you spot the bird on its peculiar perch?

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MORE ALHAMBRA POSTS

Explore the Generalife Gardens

Enter the Alcazaba fortress

Start your Nasrid Palaces adventure with the Mexuar and Comares Palace

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Everywhere you look, your vision is filled with stunning architecture and delicate carvings.

At the time of our visit, the palace’s impressive namesake fountain, a polygonal basin supported on the haunches of 12 rather primitive-looking white marble lions, was undergoing restoration. As we passed by the fountain under repair, we were told no photos were allowed. Incidentally, this didn’t prevent Wally from discreetly holding out his camera and snapping an image of the fountain as we passed by. 

Wally snuck a shot of the lion fountain while it was under repair.

The fountain is unusual, as representations of living creatures do not typically appear in Islamic art. 

The patio is divided into four quadrants, with running water channels symbolizing the four rivers that run through the Islamic idea of paradise: wine, water, milk and honey.

Windows look out upon the greenery, which was watered via ancient aqueducts.

Four Rooms 

Slender columns with cubic capitals support the intricately carved arcades of stalactite-like muqarna arches surrounding the perimeter gallery. Its massive chambers open onto the courtyard with the Sala de los Abencerrajes to the south and the Sala de las Dos Hermanas to the north. The other two are the Sala de los Mocárabes, closest to the entrance, and the Sala de Los Reyes, to the west, which was closed during our visit. 

The domed ceiling of the Hall of the Two Sisters reminded us of a honeycomb.

Sala de las Dos Hermanas, the Hall of the Two Sisters

The room takes its name from a pair of large white marble slabs set into the floor. Why these slabs were thought to be female relations is anybody’s guess. But the most outstanding feature of the room isn’t its floors — it’s the ceiling. Framed by a symmetrical eight-pointed star illuminated by light that filters through 16 latticed mashrabiya windows, the beautiful honeycombed ceiling of this two-storied hall is nothing short of breathtaking.

The conquering Catholic Monarchs never completed their plasterwork ceiling. It junked up the room, if you ask us.

Sala de Los Mocárabes, the Stalactite Hall of Muqarnas 

This room most likely served as a reception hall due to its proximity to the palace entrance. It took its name from a vault of stepped plaster brackets resembling stalactites known as mocárabes, or muqarnas in Arabic, that once covered it. It’s believed that these ornamental vaults were a symbolic representation of the cave where the Angel Gabriel revealed the Qur’an to the Prophet Muhammed. Sadly, these mocárabes were removed due to the explosion of a powder magazine in 1590.

An incomplete plaster ceiling featuring the imperial shield of Felipe II and the initials of Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabella of Castile were added to replace the mocárabes in 1614. 

The Slaying of the Abencerrajes by Marià Fortuny, 1870

Sala de los Abencerrajes, Site of a Massacre

This beautiful chamber is steeped in lore and is the site of one of the Alhambra’s most popular legends — like something out of Game of Thrones.

According to one version of the tale, Sa’d, the 20th sultan of the Nasrid dynasty, and his brother Muhammad XIII, were worried about the growing political power of a prominent noble family, whose surname was Abencerraje. The sultan was told that the Abencerrajes were plotting against him. He invited the chief noblemen of the Abencerraje family to a banquet — and set about unceremoniously massacring them. The legend continues, suggesting that the reddish-brown stains on the marble fountain in the center of the hall are traces of blood from the 36 slain Abencerrajes. 

With cherubs adorning its exterior, the Palace of Charles V feels very different than the rest of the Alhambra. In fact, it pales in comparison to the ornate opulence of the Palace of the Lions.

Palacio de Carlos V, the Palace of Charles V

Also located within the complex, the extravagant Renaissance-style Palace of Charles V is a striking contrast to the Moorish architecture of the Alhambra. During the occupation of the Christian monarchy, Charles V (1500-1558) visited the Alhambra and decided to build a grand palace there as a wedding gift to his wife, Isabella.

Portrait of Charles V on Horseback by Anthony van Dyck, 1620

The palace was designed in 1528 by Pedro Machuca, though construction didn’t begin until 1553. Unfortunately, the project was abandoned in 1568 before it was completed, owing to the rebellion of the Moors in Granada, and remained unfinished until Leopoldo Torres Balbás devised a plan to restore the building in 1923. 

The two-story colonnade that encircles the palace

Its façade is embellished with bronze rings held in the mouths of lion heads, except for the corners, which are held by eagles. Inside is a circular peristyle courtyard. It felt like the interior of the Colosseum, with visitors strangely exposed from every angle.

The open-aired circular court of Charles V’s palace at the Alhambra, which felt like an arena to us

By this time, Wally and I were both experiencing sensory overload. We returned our headsets to our guide and exited through the Puerta de la Justicia (Gate of Justice). 

Touring the Alhambra had been a dream of Wally’s ever since he saw a report on it while studying abroad. He was stuck spending the winter in Germany studying Bauhaus architecture, which he found boring.

Getting There

Wally and I walked from our accommodations at Casa Horno del Oro in the Albaicín neighborhood until we reached the Plaza Nueva, Granada’s oldest square. From there you’ll follow Cuesta de Gomérez, the pedestrian street leading to the Alhambra. When you reach the Puerta de las Granadas (Gate of the Pomegranates), continue uphill until you reach the entrance pavilion. It’s a steep walk, but you can make it there in about 15-20 minutes.

A guided tour of the Alhambra cost about 46€ at the time we visited. –Duke

Exit through the gift shop.

 

Gain an Audience at the Nasrid Palaces of the Alhambra

Start your exploration of the Nasrid Palaces with the Mexuar, Patio del Cuarto Dorado, Comares Palace and Salón de Los Embajadores. 

The Islamic Nasrid Palaces are the most spectacular part of the Alhambra complex.

While we were in Spain, we found that most places, from neighborhood restaurants to international chains, didn’t follow any set schedule. They seemed to open and close on a whim. Los Palacios Nazaríes, or the Nasrid Palaces, are one of the only things in Spain that stick to a set schedule, so having a guide ensured that Wally and I didn’t miss our time of entry — if you do, you won’t be permitted to enter. 

And the Nasrid Palaces aren’t something you want to miss. The ornate interiors indicate that the structures were used as the private quarters of the sultan, his wives, his imperial harem and the rest of his family — unlike the Alcazaba, which served as a military fortress. 

A Court in the Alhambra in the Time of the Moors by Edwin Lord Weeks, 1876

The two main structures we’re covering in this post are:

• Mexuar

• Comares Palace

Altogether, there were 22 successive sultans between 1238-1492 BCE — that’s an average of roughly 10 years per sultan over a period of 254 years! 

“The walls are covered with brilliantly colored tilework, above which bands of sinuous kufic script are interwoven with floral ornament.”

There are courtyards, a magnificent throne room, private quarters and restful gardens within. And although no furniture remains in any of the rooms, it’s the ornate designs and geometric patterns covering the walls and ceilings that are the true stars of the show.

Wally likes to spend his birthdays touring memorable locales — and the Alhambra was something he had dreamed of for years.

Mexuar Audience Hall

Our tour of the palace complex began with the Mexuar. This earliest surviving structure of the Alhambra is believed to have been commissioned by Ismail I (who ruled from 1314-1325). It was modified and enlarged by Yusef I (1333-1354), and later altered and completed by his son Muhammad V (1362-1391). The Mexuar served as a council chamber and reception hall to receive and conduct business with the general public. 

The Holy Roman Emperor Charles V put his stamp on the Mexuar tilework, incorporating some of his heraldic iconography, including a two-headed eagle.

Be sure to look up at the decorative coffered cedarwood ceilings, referred to as artesonado in Spanish. Then look down a bit: The lower walls are completely covered with glazed ceramic mosaic tile panels arranged in a complex geometric pattern resembling interlocking stars in vivid shades of green, blue and yellow. A few bear evidence of the Catholic conquest, which ended Islamic rule in the region: Charles V’s heraldic emblem featuring a pair of pillars with a red ribbon draped between them as well as a double-headed eagle. A band of calligraphic ornamentation carved into the stucco panels encircling the room give the hall a formal air suitable for receiving dignitaries, with the declaration “There is no conqueror but Allah,” repeated multiple times in Islamic calligraphy.

The gloriously gilded ceiling of the Cuarto Dorado

Patio del Cuarto Dorado, the Patio of the Golden Room

From the Mexuar, our group entered the adjoining enclosed courtyard known as the Patio del Cuarto Dorado (Patio of the Golden, or Gilded, Room). The lotus-shaped marble fountain in the center of the patio was fabricated in 1943 and is a replica of the original, which is now located in Daraxa’s Garden, adjacent to the Palace of the Lions. 

Islamic tradition stated that depictions of people are blasphemous, so the builders of the Alhambra created complex geometric patterns and scrollwork.

The chamber beyond is referred to as the Cuarto Dorado. It functioned as an anteroom between the Alhambra’s public and private spaces and takes its name from the gilt-wood ceiling that was added after the Christian conquest. 

Looking out at the Patio de Arrayanes

Palacio de Comares and the Patio de Arrayanes: the Alhambra’s Money Shot

Immediately ahead is the Palacio de Comares (named for a nearby town that crafted the crystals used to make stained glass), the money shot of nearly every guidebook, as it’s here where the oft-photographed Patio de Arrayanes (Court of Myrtles) and its narrow glassy pool of water is located. This tranquil enclosed space was commissioned during the reign of Yusuf I and was named for the verdant clipped hedges that border the central pool. 

The two-story southern façade is the most highly embellished in the Alhambra and was renovated in 1369 by Muhammad V to celebrate his victory at Algeciras near Gibraltar in 1869. Behind its succession of arches is a geometrically patterned mosaic tiled wall and interwoven, lacy, carved stucco plasterwork, further embellished by the arabesque tree of life motif. A set of small windows with delicate fretwork mashrabiya screens for discreet viewing look down from the second floor into the courtyard. 

Pretty much every square inch of the Nasrid Palaces’ walls are covered with beautiful, ornate carvings.

The north façade has a similar design to the south, yet is a single level and serves as the entry point for the Torre de Comares. This structure rises majestically above the palace arcade and is the tallest external tower of the Alhambra, with a height of 147 feet.

The Hall of the Ambassadors is where King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella met with Christopher Columbus to grant him permission to seek a new route to India (and we know how that turned out).

Salón de los Embajadores, the Hall of the Ambassadors

Inside the Torre de Comares is the grand reception hall known today as the Salón de los Embajadores, the Hall of the Ambassadors. Its vaulted wood ceiling is ornamented with a profusion of blue, white and gold inlay work in the shape of circles, crowns and stars, representative of the seven heavens of Islamic belief. The lower walls of the hall are covered with brilliantly colored tilework, above which horizontal bands of sinuous, vine-like kufic script are interwoven with floral ornament. One bears the inscription “Speak few words and you will leave in peace,” perhaps instructions for those requesting the audience of the sultan. I’m sure the sultan was busy, but that’s essentially like putting up a sign that says, “Keep it brief.”

The ceiling of the Hall of the Ambassadors resembles a starry sky.

The hall contains a total of nine alcoves, three per side, with windows known as cumarias, Spanish for stained glass, and incidentally where the palace gets its name from. Sadly, the windows are no longer there. A central niche opposite the entrance at the back of the hall was originally occupied by the sultan’s throne and contains the inscription “My lord, the victorious Yusuf, has decorated me with robes of glory and has made me the throne of his rule.”

You would cry, too, if it happened to you: King Boabdil Bids Farewell to Granada by Alfred Dehodencq, 1882

Legend has it that Muhammad XII, known as Boabdil, the 22nd and final sultan of the Nasrid dynasty, met with his council in the Salón de los Embajadores on November 25, 1491 and signed the Treaty of Granada, capitulating the last Muslim territory in the region to Christendom. As Boabdil left the city with his entourage, he looked back from the mountain pass at the beauty of what he had lost, and wept. –Duke

If you’re in the South of Spain, you can’t leave without a visit to the amazing Alhambra.

 

The Alcazaba, the Fierce Fortress of the Alhambra

Tour the towers of the defensive outpost perched above the charming city of Granada in the South of Spain.

Start your tour of the Alhambra with the Generalife gardens and the Alcazaba fortress.

With the snow-capped peaks of the Sierra Nevada as a backdrop, it’s easy to see why the monumental fortress palace of the Alhambra is one of the most visited monuments in Spain, second only to the Sagrada Família in Barcelona. 

The complex of buildings was fittingly recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1984, and served as residence to the Islamic sultanates of the Iberian Peninsula. Muslims ruled the region from the 11th to 15th century, until conquered by the Catholic monarchy in 1492. The Alhambra’s name comes from the Arabic al-Qal’at al-Hamra, or Red Fortress, owing to the reddish color of the clay-rich soil of the al-Sabika Hill ridge, where it rises from the terrain. That same ochre soil was used in the rammed, or compressed, earth brick walls of this impressive complex. 

“ A fortress doesn’t do any good if you simply open its doors to invaders.

But that’s exactly what King Boabdil did, after his fellow Muslims had ruled the region for nearly 700 years. ”

Touring the Alcazaba and the rest of the Alhambra made for a birthday Wally will never forget!

After literally taking time to stop and smell the roses in the gardens of the Generalife, we made our way to the Alcazaba, the fortress that once guarded the palace. We had booked our tickets for a guided tour (about 46€) months before, and a small group of ill-mannered and boisterous British tourists were part of our entourage. One of them was a doddering old man named Leslie, who frequently strayed from the group, and whose companions could be heard incessantly shouting, “Leslie! Leslie, come here!” to reel him back in. 

This is Leslie, wandering off again. “Leslie! Get back here!”

Plaza de los Aljibes, the Square of the Cisterns

Our group arrived at the Plaza de los Aljibes, the Square of the Cisterns, built after the Christian victory. The broad open space got its name from the underground cisterns built to collect rainwater below the square because the new occupants didn’t understand the complexities of the water channels the Arab engineers had created, leaving the aqueducts to fall into disrepair. Off to one side of the square lie the Nasrid Palaces, to the other, the Alcazaba.

The entrance to the Alcazaba, built by Muhammad I, the first sultan of the Nasrid dynasty

The Alcazaba Fortress

The austere military enclosure of the Alcazaba fortress is strategically positioned at the summit of the westernmost end of the monumental site, overlooking the city of Granada. Its construction is attributed to Muhammad I (who reigned from 1238-1273), the founder of the Nasrid dynasty. A stark contrast to the opulent and residential Nasrid Palaces, its primary function was to shield its inhabitants from external attacks. 

The separations in the defensive wall allowed archers to fire at invaders.

Of the whole set of structures within the Alhambra, the Alcazaba is the oldest. The north-facing walls were built atop the remains of a 9th century castle constructed for the Zirid dynasty, who were Berbers from Algeria, and incorporated into the foundation walls. Here, Muhammad I strengthened the enclosure walls and constructed three of its 30 imposing towers. Our group entered the fortress from the plaza through a doorway cut into the high east-facing wall. 

Torre del Homenaje, the Tribute Tower

Located at the northeast corner of the perimeter wall is the keep, known as the Torre del Homenaje, which could be translated as the Tribute Tower or the Tower of Homage. It’s one of the highest of the Alhambra and was strategically the most important, as it served both defensive and offensive purposes. The upright crenellated “teeth,” aka the battlements along the top of the tower, protected sentries from attacks and allowed them to fire arrows at intruders. Throughout its history, the tower served many functions, including as royal residence to Muhammad I and as a prison during the Christian occupation. 

The towers of the Alcazaba, the Torre de la Vela in particular, provide great views of the white city of Granada below.

Torre de la Vela, the Watchtower

The Torre de la Vela, the Watchtower, defiantly perches on the far west end of the hill, where the previously mentioned modest Zirid castle once stood. It served as a watchtower, and the interior consists of four floors plus the terrace and a subterranean dungeon—a kind of command center in the middle of the fortress. 

Wally and I climbed the narrow staircase to the top to take in the panoramic bird’s-eye view of the rolling Andalusian hills and Albaicín, Granada’s Moorish neighborhood. The terrace is crowned by a bell tower, added by the Christian kings in the 18th century, which was used to signal significant news to the general populace. 

There are many thoughts on the origin of its name. The literal translation of the word vela is “candle,” but one theory posits that the bell was brought from Castil de Vela, a municipality located in the province of Palencia. Then again, it could be connected to the verb desvelar, which means to keep awake, possibly referring to the sounding bell and its ability to awaken anyone below from slumber. In any event, the bell is rung every January 2 to celebrate the taking of Granada from the Muslim sultans.

The Alcazaba at the Alhambra is cool to tour — but just wait till you see the ornate Nasrid Palaces!

Torre Quebrada, the Broken Tower

This imposing monolithic tower stands within the shadow of the Torre de la Vela. I couldn’t find any specifics as to how it acquired its name, but one could presume that it suffered from seismic activity, or Napoleon's army, which decided to inflict damage by blowing up a few of the towers when they withdrew from the palace, petty and bitter at having lost the Peninsular War, which took place from 1808-1814. 

Visitors had to leave their weapons at the Puerta de las Armas.

Puerta de las Armas, the Gate of Arms

Originally, the Bab al-Silas, or Puerta de las Armas, the Gate of Arms, functioned as the populace’s primary entrance. The doorway probably got its name from its associated use: Visitors were stopped and required to leave their weapons behind before gaining access. 

Part of the Plaza de las Armas contains the ruins of the Barrio Castrense, the foundations of the residential dwellings for the royal guard and soldiers needed for the defense of the sultan. 

The foundations of the military quarters can still be seen in the Plaza de la Armas.

The Surrender of Granada by Francisco Pradilla y Ortiz, 1882, shows poor Baobdil turning over the keys to Granada to Ferdinand and Isabella.

Letting the Catholics In

A fortress doesn’t do you any good if you simply open its doors to invaders. But that’s exactly what King Boabdil did, after his fellow Muslims had ruled the region for nearly 700 years. 

On January 2, 1492, Ferdinand II of Aragon and Isabella of Castile ceremoniously entered Granada, curiously in Muslim dress. They set up court in the Alhambra declaring it a Casa Real, or royal residence. One of their first orders of business? Declaring that all Jews and Muslims had to convert to Catholicism or leave the country. –Duke

 

Generalife: The Gorgeous Alhambra Gardens

The lush 13th-century garden complex offers a calm oasis overlooking Granada.

The Generalife gardens were created as a peaceful refuge for the Nasrid sultans

The Alhambra is one of those once-in-a-lifetime trips. When Wally and I learned that we could easily take a train from Sevilla to Granada, home to the historic medieval Moorish fortress of the Alhambra, we didn’t hesitate to add it to our itinerary. 

Duke and Wally love a good garden

Wally and I purchased our skip-the-line tickets for a small-group guided tour months in advance for around 46€. We recommend going this route, but if you decide you don’t want a guide, general admission costs 14€. Wanting to beat the crowds as well as the midday heat, we opted for the earliest time slot, arriving around 9 a.m., shortly after the Alhambra opens.

Be sure to bring your passport as you’ll need to present it at the entrance pavilion. If you’re thinking of trying to purchase tickets the day of, it’s not worth the risk: The number of daily admissions is limited, and sold in three-hour time slots on a first-come, first-served basis, a policy enforced to help preserve the monument. 

“Courtyard terraces exude tranquility, where fragrant flowering jasmine, roses, orange trees and myrtles scent the air.

Towering cypress trees form a dense evergreen screen, lining both sides of the garden path.”

Our tour of the Alhambra complex began with an exploration of the 13th-century gardens of the Generalife. 

A historic illustration of the garden complex

Paradise on Earth

Part of the Alhambra complex, the Generalife (pronounced Hay-nay-ral-lee-fay) served as a respite from palace life for the Nasrid sultans, the last of the Muslim dynasty that ruled Granada until 1492. It’s also a beautiful oasis for modern-day visitors. The name derives from the Arabic Jannat al-Arif, which typically gets translated to Garden of the Architect, though my research suggests Garden of Knowledge might be more accurate. 

The Generalife gardens are terraced, situated on a hill above the city of Granada

Muhammad II, the second sultan of the Nasrid dynasty (who reigned from 1273-1302), commissioned the original estate as a summer palace. His successor, Muhammad III (1302-1309), enlarged and refined the gardens. 

The Generalife is set on a slope of the Cerro del Sol hillside, adjacent to but higher in elevation than the al-Sabika Hill, where the Alhambra stands. Its series of gardens were based on the Zoroastrian division of the universe into four parts, rooted in the sacred elements of earth, air, fire and water. 

Both the upper and lower gardens have been modified over the years. The present plantings were added by the architect Leopoldo Torres Balbás in 1931 and completed by Francisco Prieto-Moreno in 1951. 

Narrow reflecting pools can be found throughout the complex

Water Wonders

The soothing sound of gently gurgling water is ever present at the Generalife — its engineers developed a sophisticated irrigation and hydraulic system by building a dam and aqueduct that diverts water from the River Darro to what would otherwise be a barren hillside. 

The highlight of the Generalife is the Court of the Long Pond

This channel or canal, the Acequia Real (Royal Aqueduct), distributed water to the gardens, fountains and baths of the Generalife and the Alhambra, solidifying its identity as a palace city. Water holds many meanings in the Islamic world and was essential in maintaining agriculture and providing drinking water, and was respected as a divine gift. 

Arches of roses create picturesque frames of the city of Granada

A Relaxing Respite

Courtyard terraces exude tranquility, where fragrant flowering jasmine, roses, orange trees and myrtles scent the air. Towering cypress trees form a dense evergreen screen, lining both sides of the garden path, which are embellished with smooth pebble mosaic patterns: white stones from the Darro and black ones from the Genil River. 

The amazingly intricate stonework is just a taste of what’s to come in the rest of the Alhambra complex

Try not to get lost in the hedge maze!

Wally and I climbed a flight of steps and ascended from the lower garden terrace to the semi-enclosed Patio de la Acequia, also known as the Court of the Long Pond. Jets of water, installed in the 19th century, arch over the center of the rectangular pool. The courtyard was originally divided into four quarters like the Court of the Lions inside the Alhambra. A pair of porticoed pavilions with overlapping glazed roof tiles stand at the north and south ends. The narrow open arcade along the south side was added in 1670 after the Reconquista, when Christians defeated the Islamic rulers of the Iberian Peninsula. 

The pleasant gurgling of fountains floats through the air

A pleasure for the senses, the Generalife is a great way to start or end your exploration of the Alhambra, pause for a while and take in the atmosphere. We lingered in the gardens for about 45 minutes before marveling at the wonders of the nearby palaces. –Duke

 

What It’s Really Like to Walk the Camino Frances

Everything you need to know about the Camino de Santiago, from the difficult first day to the frustrating ending — with all the serenity in between.

The Camino Francés is the most popular of the pilgrimage routes that end up in Santiago de Compostela, where Saint James the Great’s body is said to be buried

Walking for 35 days. A 500-mile trek through northern Spain. It’s not everyone’s idea of a vacation. So what got our friend Susan to decide to take on the Camino de Santiago?

Susan decided to hike the Camino de Santiago by herself

Blame Oprah. At least in part. You see, Susan saw Winfrey’s special about spiritual belief, and was intrigued by the camino. She was going through a transition in her life and wanted to do something epic.

There are at least eight different routes to choose from, and Susan decided upon the Camino Francés, the most popular option.

Here’s what this intense pilgrimage entails.

 

Why did you decide to do the Camino de Santiago?

I had heard about the Camino de Santiago back in 2011 when I was living abroad in Ireland. I always had it in the back of my head that it sounded really cool. I was burnt out as a lawyer and wanted to do something that was completely out of my element. I decided to quit my job and go back to school. I had about five weeks from my last day of work before my master’s program started, and the camino seemed perfect because you can do it by yourself and it’s safe. You can walk alone, but there are also lots of opportunities to meet other people from all over the world. When I told everyone I was going to go to Spain to walk 500 miles, they all said it sounded crazy — but also really cool.

“The first day was uphill through the Pyrénées. It was raining and muddy, and I was thinking to myself, “What have I gotten myself into?!”

I didn’t know if I was going to make it.”

In the spring, the camino is less crowded than in the summer

When did you go?

There’s a ton of people in June, July and August, but not in May, when I was there. There are stretches where you don’t see anyone.

How long was the hike?

About five weeks. It took me a few days to get to the starting point. I flew into Biarritz, France. The walk starts in a town called Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port. The overall route took me 32 days to walk 560 miles.

Some days involve hiking uphill in the Pyrénées, though some people find it even more difficult going downhill

What’s it like when you start the Camino de Santiago?

Scary. I didn’t prepare much. When I met people along the way, they had done so much research. I ordered hiking shoes and a backpack, and booked my flight. I got into Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port and I was terrified. I didn’t know what to expect. The first day I got there, it was pouring rain. I got up at 7 a.m., put my backpack on…and just started walking.

How was the French leg of the journey?

You only spend about a day and a half in France. Unlike in Spain, where everything’s well marked, there are no signs in France. Within the first 500 feet, I took a wrong turn, which I’m gonna blame on this girl from Hungary. I followed her, and after a while, we were like, this doesn’t look right. So we had taken an hour-long detour.

The second half of the day was uphill through the Pyrénées, so it was very difficult. It was raining and muddy, and I was thinking to myself, “What have I gotten myself into?!” I didn’t know if I was going to be able to make it through the whole thing. And apparently, this was the easy route! We had heard horror stories from people who had done the harder route.

Things got so much easier after that. I’m kind of glad I didn’t know about the huge incline ’cause I would have been really anxious about it.

Look for this icon to keep on the camino

Was it easy to get lost on the camino?

There’s an app for the Camino de Santiago — which I didn’t realize until the third day. The app tells you all the different places you can stay, if it’s flat, if you have inclines or declines.

It’s called Buen Camino, which is what everyone says to you when you pass them. It means “good way.” You see yourself as a little yellow dot, so you can see if you’re straying off the path.

And once you get to Spain, it’s fabulous. The paths are marked with the shell that’s the symbol of the Camino de Santiago. Every so often you’ll see a cement pillar with a shell on it. And when you’re in towns, there are yellow arrows.

What’s the terrain like?

At first it was a path through the mountains, but most of the camino is gravel. There are other days when you’re in the forest or have to walk on the street. It’s beautiful. At some points, you’re walking through vineyards. I liked the smaller towns more than the cities. It was so peaceful and nice. I tried to bond with nature and take in my surroundings.

The first thing you see in every village is the church tower

Who else was on the camino?

I didn’t meet a lot of Americans — mostly Europeans, Australians and Koreans. You have all ages, women, men. Most people were by themselves, though you did have some couples. Some people did it for religious reasons, but most were doing it as a spiritual experience, trying to take a break from their lives. Some people were really fit; some people didn’t last the whole time.

People formed little groups. Most of them stayed in the albergues, the hostels.

How difficult was the hike?

About seven days in is a town called Logroño, and there’s a big hospital there. And that’s where they say a lot of people’s bodies break down. They have shin splints, plantar fasciitis, knee injuries.

The declines are actually the worst. You’ve got a heavy backpack on, it’s gravel, and you have to support yourself and not fall forward.

Some people ended up taking shortcuts because they physically weren’t up for it. I didn’t take any shortcuts!

I was surprised I held up as well as I did. But I live in Chicago and don’t have a car. I walk a lot. I had some blisters, but that was doable — I just put some band-aids on those.

The training plans are pretty intense. They say you should walk an hour a day and then six hours a day on the weekend with your backpack. I didn’t do that.

I’m not a hiker, but I would say it’s a moderate trek. I’d say a third of it is more difficult: up or down, rocky terrain.

What kind of shoes did you get?

I didn’t have any light hiking shoes, so I ordered some cute pink ones. I did a lot of reading on discussion boards, and I knew I didn’t want anything too heavy. People thought they looked like running sneakers. I ordered them a month before, and wore them every time I’d go out to walk the dog to break them in.

What’s Susan got in her bag? A couple extra outfits, toiletries, a hat, a portable charger, an extra pair of shoes, PJs, a rain jacket and a fleece

What was in your backpack?

They say to bring only two outfits — I brought three.

That would be the hardest part for us. We would’ve brought like 10 outfits.

There are services where you could have your backpack transported. I didn’t have a hiking backpack, so I bought one that was 34 liters. I brought tank tops, three pairs of stretchy yoga pants, small toiletries, a small sleeping bag — which I ended up ditching. You only need it if you’re staying at hostels. The second day I ditched a lot of stuff in my pack ’cause you just want to get it as light as possible. Bring a portable charger, just in case you’re in the middle of nowhere and your cell phone dies. I had a hat and an extra pair of shoes, one pair of pajamas, a rain jacket and a fleece, which I wore to bed a lot since I got cold. I had some pairs of thin hiking socks but ended up buying thicker ones when I got there that gave more support.

I ended up cutting two pairs of my pants and made shorts, ha ha. No shame! It’s one of those things you’d normally never do.

A lot of people that go in the summer get up early to hike before sunrise to avoid the heat. They bring headlamps to see in the dark, but I couldn’t imagine doing that on some of the terrain.

Gravel paths, paved roads, stony mountain passes and dirt trails through the woods — every day on the camino offers something different

Take us through a typical day on the camino.

I’d wake up — I’d have all my stuff laid out and I’d take a shower the night before. So I’d grab my backpack and go, around 7 or 8 a.m. The night before, I’d look at the app and all the towns and figure out how far I was gonna walk. I’d always book beforehand online. A lot of people just walked until they got tired and would find a place. I liked to have the security of knowing I had a room — a lot of these places were in the middle of nowhere.

I never ate breakfast, so I’d head out. Around 10 a.m., I’d find a place to stop and get a café con leche and a croissant. There wasn’t a lot of great food — these are tiny towns that cater to the pilgrims, as they call us. And none of the pilgrims are looking for good food; they’re looking for cheap stuff. The menu was the same at every place.

“I’d eat around 8 p.m. and go right to bed. And then do the same thing the next morning.

It was kind of like “Groundhog Day” — but I loved every minute of it.”

Every time you come up to someone — I’m a fast walker and would pass everybody — you would say hello, “buen camino.” If they seem like they wanted to chat, I’d walk with them for a bit. You’d see people you’d seen before, so it was very social. But I did spend a lot of the time by myself.

I would usually get to where I was going between 1 to 3 p.m. So I didn’t eat until I got there. A lot of people who stopped to eat breakfast and lunch got there much later. I liked to get there and relax — not that there was a lot to do there most of the time. But I’d walk around, and if I saw people I knew, I’d hang out with them.

I’d eat around 8 p.m. or so, and go right to bed because I was exhausted. And then do the same thing the next morning. It was kind of like Groundhog Day — but I loved every minute of it.

Where’d you stay?

You can pay 8 euros for a bed at a hostel, and dinner was €10. You can do this super cheap — for about €30 a day. For me, getting a private room, I’d pay about €20. In a bigger city, like Pamplona, Burgos, Léon and Santiago, I’d stay at a hotel and pay up to €75 euros.

The smaller villages were very downtrodden and economically depressed. I wanted to tell these people, “You should raise your prices!”

How about pee breaks?

I didn’t take a lot. There’s not a lot of places to go to the bathroom. Maybe every 15 kilometers, there’ll be a small coffeeshop you could go in. I’m not a person who can pee outside. So this is going to sound weird, but I didn’t drink a lot of water during the day. I’m sure a lot of people would say that’s really bad. When I got to where I was going, I’d drink a ton of water.

Most people do pee outside, though?

Yes! I saw a lot of people peeing outside. It’s acceptable to do so. I saw people’s asses. I felt like people should have had a little more discretion.

Were there differences between the French and the Spanish?

I don’t want to offend anybody. The French just weren’t as welcoming, though I was only in France for a day and a half. They don’t want to speak English to you. I don’t want to be an ignorant American saying they should speak English, ’cause I don’t think that. I felt like they were, why are you in my country? But maybe that’s not representative of everyone one else’s experience.

In Spain, everyone tried to speak English. They know what you want: You get your passport in Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port and you have to get it stamped at the hostels and cafés. And that’s what they inspect when you get to Santiago de Compostela to prove you did the whole thing, and then they give you a certificate called the compostela. I waited in line for two hours to get this. You have to walk at least 100 kilometers to get one — and what annoyed me is that it’s the same certificate, whether you’ve walked 100 kilometers or the entire 800 like I did.

For many, the Camino de Santiago is a spiritual journey — just don’t get bummed if you don’t “find yourself”

Was it a spiritual journey?

It’s funny — you’re walking 15 to 20 miles a day and are in your own head. But it’s not like I had all these deep thoughts and came to these epiphanies, which I thought I might! I was hoping to find myself, ha ha. A lot of your mind is taken up with thinking about the next town you’re getting to, following the trail, talking to people. I thought I’d have a lot of time to figure things out, but I didn’t contemplate life as much as I should have, maybe. You think you’re going to work out all the things in your life and come back perfect.

What’s it like when you finally get to Santiago?

It’s anticlimactic. You walk into Santiago and you think there’s going to be trumpets or a parade — you just walked 500 miles! It’s so crowded; it’s so commercialized. It’s very stressful. It wasn’t a good experience. Everyone ends up going to the Pilgrims’ Mass at the cathedral, where they say your name. But I didn’t end up going because I was in line to get my certificate.

The camino is technically a pilgrimage, so locals try to get you go into the village church

What then?

I didn’t think I was going to go anywhere else after Santiago. But I ended up doing it in less time than I had planned. You can keep going another 60 miles to the coast, an extra three days. And it was absolutely beautiful, a place called Finisterre. It’s right on the ocean and they call it the End of the World. That’s where the 0 Kilometer pillar is, so that’s cool. There wasn’t a lot of people there, and there’s a lighthouse and a guy playing bagpipes. There’s a beach with seashells. It’s very peaceful. It’s a great place to reflect and feel rewarded, rather than Santiago, which was so dispiriting. I got a room at a hotel that had a beautiful view of the ocean that wasn’t that expensive. It was such a fabulous way to end the trip.

Keep walking! Susan recommends going beyond Santiago to Finisterre, a lovely, more calm way to end the epic journey

A lot of people, if they’re not going to walk, they’ll take a bus. I took the bus back to Santiago since I was flying out of there. I ran into the Hungarian girl I met on the first day and other people, so I went out with them.

What surprised you about the Camino de Santiago the most?

I’m not a huge athlete or anything, so I was surprised by how effortlessly I was able to do it — apart from that first day.

I had always heard about the culture of Spain, but I was surprised by how poor a lot of the towns were. They’re all centered around the pilgrims. The places I stayed were acceptable, but I heard a lot of stories about people staying in albergues that weren’t. But when you’re paying €8 a night…

There was a lot of dirt and stray animals — it was a lot less glamorous than I expected. I didn’t realize how economically downtrodden this part of Spain was. But at the same time, the people were very generous and welcoming.

You can hike the Camino de Santiago very affordably — as low as 30 euros a day!

Siestas were crazy, too. Everything in town closes from 2 to 5 p.m. Hotels and restaurants tended to be open, but no grocery or clothing stores. I’d go to the store when it opened and get snacks for the next day.

Sometimes restaurants would be open, but the kitchen would be closed from 6 to 9 p.m. You could get drinks, but there wasn’t any food.

Religion was everywhere. Whenever you’d come into a town, the biggest building there would be the church — the first thing you’d see is that cross. So church bells were ever-present during my trek, which I really enjoyed. People would be there, trying to get you to go into the church.

Susan didn’t do a whole lot of planning for the trip — and it all worked out

What was the laundry situation?

I did a lot of sink-washing. But a lot of the places have washing machines, but not dryers. People would hang their stuff outside. But you’d have to get there first. Most of the time, I’d wash my stuff in the bathtub with shower gel.

It was simple. You don’t have creature comforts, but you have everything you need. Normally when I go on a trip, I bring big suitcases and all this shit. It was so nice to put everything into one backpack and that was it. I survived. Now I’m just gonna bring a backpack everywhere I go.

Really?

We’ll see.

Any final advice do you have for people who want to walk the Camino de Santiago?

Don’t plan too much. Take it as it comes — don’t overcomplicate things, because it’s all going to work out totally fine. –Wally

“It’s acceptable to pee outside. I saw people’s asses.

I felt like people should have had a little more discretion.”

The Seussian Whimsy of Gaudi’s Park Güell

If this colorful city park overlooking Barcelona is what failure looks like, sign us up!

The colorful curves of Park Güell are like something out of a Dr. Seuss book

When industrialist Count Eusebi Güell needed help transforming Montaña Pelada, Bald Mountain, into a one-of-a-kind residential enclave, he called upon his friend Antoni Gaudí. The two shared similar ideological beliefs: Gaudí was a spiritual man whose distinctive style was influenced by his great appreciation of nature as God’s creation. His structural forms mimicked the natural world and imbued life into his architectural masterpieces.

That collaboration led to Park Güell, which was not originally designed to be a municipal park. It was conceived as a luxury residential development with 60 plots just to the north of Barcelona’s city limits by Güell, who made his fortune from the textile industry.

Güell, whom the park is named after, was inspired by the garden city movement popularized in 20th century England, which is why the English word Park was used, rather than the Catalan equivalent, Parc.

He commissioned Gaudí, the Catalan architect responsible for some of the Barcelona’s most iconic landmarks, to create the parklike neighborhood. Gaudí made the most of the site’s uneven terrain, using organic shapes paired with symbolic references to Christianity and Catalan nationalism shared by his patron, Güell. Immediately noticeable when you enter the park is the administrator’s building, with its towering blue and white chimney topped with a gothic cross flower.

The administrative building and caretaker’s lodge are two gingerbread-like houses on the park grounds

Making an Entrance

Wally and I arrived at the park early in the morning and were easily able to purchase tickets, which are limited to 400 people every half hour, to avoid overcrowding. A full price ticket costs 8 euros (or 7.50€ if you purchase them in advance here).

The park is limited to 400 people every half hour

Just inside the entrance are a pair of whimsical lodges that look like lifesize gingerbread houses from the fairy tale “Hansel and Gretel.” These structures, known as the caretaker’s lodge and administration building were designed to attract potential investors. The caretaker’s lodge includes an imaginatively embellished cupola, decorated with upside-down white ceramic coffee cups and supposedly was Gaudí’s way of telling the world he had giving up drinking coffee.

We paused to take a photo with a man dressed as the park’s mascot and symbol of Barcelona, the multi-colored mosaic gecko, known as El Drac, the Dragon (for a small fee, of course).

Wally and Duke pose with El Drac, the park’s reptilian mascot

Immediately before us was the magnificent grand staircase. A riot of color, its balustrade and steps are covered with shards of ceramic tiles using a technique known as trencadísis, popular with the Modernisme movement. These fragments were discarded at a nearby factory and selected with great care. The predominant blue, yellow and green tiles symbolize faith, hope and charity, and each fragment is no more than 8 to 10 inches in size.

A mosaic sculpture of El Drac, Gaudí’s gecko — now a symbol of Barcelona

Perched at the base of the steps is a depiction of the beloved El Drac, created with frequent Gaudí collaborator Josep Maria Jujol. It’s plausible that Gaudí’s obsessive use of this mythological creature in his designs was influenced by his devout Catholic faith — in particular, the legend of St. George and the Dragon, symbolizing the struggle between good and evil. The likeness of the iconic El Drac is a popular souvenir choice from Barcelona, and you can purchase a variety of items inspired by Gaudí’s gecko throughout the city.

The square above the columned grotto gets crowded with all sorts of interesting people

The Hall of 100 Columns

After climbing the first flight of steps, Wally and I entered the Sala Hipóstila, Hall of 100 Columns, referred to by Gaudí as the Greek Theater. The pavilion is a forest of 86 columns in the Greek Doric style, mimicking trees, made of mortar and rubble simulating marble. Each of the columns leans slightly and supports the upper plaza terrace above. Rainwater is filtered through the layer of stone and sand from the terrace square and runs through drainage pipes ingeniously concealed within the columns to be collected in a cistern below.

Amorous couples, tourists, kids playing ball and street performers all gather in Park Güell’s piazza

The entire ceiling consists of domes covered with white trencadís as well as brightly colored mosaic circles representing the four seasons and the lunar cycles.
Although this room was originally designed to hold the community’s market, today it is often used as a concert hall, due its impressive acoustics.

An African man in traditional garb and his new friend test out the aucustics of the Hall of 100 Columns

The public square, an open earthen terrace, located above the hall is framed by the Banc de Trencadís, a mosaic-tiled bench curving sinuously around its perimeter.

The undulating Banc de Trencadís is a great place to look out over the city

Wally and I stopped at the kiosk and purchased a couple beers. We found a shady spot to sit and take in the spectacular view of Barcelona before us, with the amazing La Sagrada Familia church, still under construction, in the background.

Wally couldn’t believe they sold beer at the park

Duke says, “Salud to España and Gaudí’s fun aesthetic!’

Incidentally, it’s also a great place to people-watch, and we dubbed one of the visitors Catalan Mema, as she was petite and quirky and had a shock of short white blonde hair like my mother. She was also having her hand kissed by an invisible man. Only at Park Güell!

The park is full of colorful characters, including a woman who resembles Duke’s madre — and her invisible man suitor

The back of the terrace is formed by a row of stone viaducts, remnants of the project’s original design, intended to provide residents access to their individual plots of land.

By 1914, the project was deemed a commercial failure: Not enough people wanted high-class housing so far from the city center.

Barcelona — including la Sagrada Familia Church — stretches out below the park

All that remained were the buildings described, as well as an irrigation system and meandering paths created by Gaudí in his inimitable manner. Guëll convinced Gaudí to purchase the park’s model home, designed by Gaudí’s assistant and friend Francesc Berenguer.

Despite its failings as a housing complex, the city purchased the estate in 1922 for use as a public park. But it wasn't until Gaudí’s death in 1926, that Park Guëll officially opened. If you’re visiting Barcelona and looking for an enchanting place to spend an afternoon in this remarkable city, look no further than this surreal architectural landmark. –Duke

Dan Brown’s “Origin” Tour of Spain

Follow Robert Langdon’s itinerary, from Bilbao to Barcelona, with stopovers in Madrid and Seville.

The whimsical Park Guëll in Barcelona is just one stop on an Origin-inspired itinerary of Spanish sights

You can always count on Dan Brown to serve up a whirlwind tour of a European country in his edge-of-your-seat thrillers. He’s got a formula: Robert Langdon, symbologist stud, and some attractive female companion follow a frenzied trail of clues, narrowly escaping death at every stop. What I like best about a Brown novel is that you’ll learn about religious history, conspiracy theories, art, architecture and technology along the way.

While The Da Vinci Code had Langdon darting from one Parisian landmark to another, Brown’s latest work, Origin, offers a tour of Spain, from Bilbao to Barcelona.

“It wouldn’t be a Dan Brown novel without learning about a surprising but real-life controversial religious order.”

Here are the main sites Langdon visits in his frenzied night trying to discover nothing less than the origin of our species — and what’s next in our evolution.

Bilbao

Guggenheim Museum Bilbao

The story kicks off at this famous museum, designed by Frank Gehry in his signature style, consisting of massive, curving metallic strips. The Guggenheim Bilbao opened in 1997 and has helped draw tourists to what was a fading industrial port city.

Brown mentions a few of the museum’s more interesting artworks, including:

La Salve Bridge, constructed in the early 1970s, now leads right to the Guggenheim. For the museum’s 10th anniversary, the bridge got an additional adornment, l’Arc Rouge (the Red Arch) by French artist Daniel Buren.

Maman, a creepy metal spider sculpture by Louise Bourgeois that’s about 30 feet tall. The name means Mom, and the piece, built in 1999, is a (questionable) tribute to Bourgeois’ mother, who was a weaver.

The Matter of Time, a massive spiraling, interactive sculpture that takes up an entire corridor at the Guggenheim. The immersive artwork by Richard Serra was created between 1994-2005.

Yves Klein Exhibition, a tribute to yet another French artist. The enormous rectangle painted on the floor resembles an intense cobalt blue swimming pool. The artist patented the color, International Klein Blue, stating that it represents the cosmic energy that floats in the air.

Etxanobe

While you’re in Bilbao, enjoy a dinner at this Michelin-starred restaurant. The glass dining room has tufted light fixtures and a fabric-covered ceiling, hidden away in the Palacio Euskalduna. The food at Etxanobe is the star of the show, prepared by Fernando Canales, a local hotshot chef. It looks as if it’s one of those modern restaurants where you get served large plates that hold small, gloopy food prepared with the most recent gastronomic techniques and decorated with artistic splashes. Most people seem to recommend the chef’s tasting menu.

Madrid

Royal Palace

Much of the intrigue in Origin takes place in the Palacio Real de Madrid. Once the site of a fortress built to protect the Muslim rulers from invading Christians, the palace that stands today was begun in 1738 and took 17 years to complete. That’s no surprise, given that there are more than 3,000 rooms inside, including the Royal Armoury and the Painting Gallery, in which Salome With the Head of John the Baptist by Caravaggio hangs.

Almudena Cathedral

Adjacent to the Royal Palace, this religious institution is dedicated to the Virgin of Almudena, a medieval icon that serves as the patroness of Madrid. Like many European cathedrals, construction of the Santa Iglesia Catedral de Santa María la Real de la Almudena (phew!) came in fits and starts. While it began in 1879, it wasn’t fully completed until 1993!

Reina Sofía Museum of Modern Art

The building that houses the Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía, which opened in 1986, first served as the San Carlos Hospital.

Here are some of the famous works Brown calls out:

Guernica by Picasso is, undoubtedly, the star of the museum. A 1937 Cubist masterpiece in shades of gray, the mural was a reaction to the Nazis’ bombing practice on the Basque town of Guernica during the Spanish Civil War.

La Verbena, or The Fair, by Maruja Mallo, painted in 1927, is a riot of color and activity. There’s almost a movement to the painting, with sailors, a test-your-strength game, a cyclops in a headdress, a deformed beggar and what might be a magician about to cut a woman in half, all tucked into various nooks.

El Escorial

Built from 1563-1584, the Royal Site of San Lorenzo de El Escorial is said to be the most important architectural monument of the Spanish Renaissance. King Philip II wanted the building to be a place to bury his father, Charles V, as well as a monastery and palace. The complex is 28 miles northwest of Madrid. Be sure to visit the Pantheon of the Kings, where 28 kings and queens of Spain are entombed.

Valley of the Fallen

Near El Escorial is el Valle de los Caídosa, a controversial memorial commissioned by General Francisco Franco, the dictator of an authoritarian regime that lasted for 36 years. A massive cross sits atop a basilica and crypt that have been carved into the mountainside. The site honors those who died in the Spanish Civil War and contains the tomb of Franco himself.
 

Seville

Palmarian Catholic Church

It wouldn’t be a Brown novel without learning about a surprising but real-life controversial religious order. The Christian Palmarian Church of the Carmelites of the Holy Face (Iglesia Católica Palmariana) in El Palmar de Troya, 28 miles south of Seville, is so crazy, you’d think Brown made it up. But this far-right cult actually has declared its own pope dedicated to undermining the reforms of Pope Francis and worshippers pray to a host of new saints, including, shudder, Adolf Hitler.

Barcelona

Park Güell

Barcelona is one of my favorite cities — in a large part because of Antoni Gaudí’s whimsical genius. His colorful aesthetic is on display in Park Güell, a large public space at the north end of the city. Mosaics decorate this park, including the winding benches on a large terrace overlook, where it’s as fun to admire the view of Barcelona spreading out before you as it is to people-watch.

La Sagrada Família

I can say with confidence that you’ve never seen a church like this before. The façade evokes a towering sandcastle, while the interior features sprawling treelike columns dappled in rainbow hues as sunlight hits the stained glass windows. La Basílica i Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Família is so otherworldly, I felt as if I were inside a spaceship. Oh, and it’s still being built.

Casa Milà

It’s hard to miss Casa Milà, known as La Pedrera, or the Stone Quarry: Its undulating pale façade is what gave the building its nickname. The apartment complex, designed by Guadí, was built between 1906-1912 and now houses a museum highlighting the architect’s work on its top floor. Be sure to visit the rooftop, dotted with giant chimneys shaped like the helmets of soldiers.

Barcelona Supercomputing Center

Leave it to Brown to weave quirky sites like this into his stories. The Centro Nacional de Supercomputación is indeed a research facility housed in the former Chapel Torre Girona. Its star supercomputer, MareNostrum, consists of neat rows of metallic towers encased in a glass box that fills the interior of the sanctuary.

As you work your way through this itinerary, following in Langdon’s footsteps, here’s hoping there’s not a murderous former naval admiral on your heels. –Wally

Where to See DFace, Obey (aka Shepard Fairey), Boa Mistura and Other Street Art in Málaga

Soho Malaga has become a mural and graffiti hotspot.

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One of the many colorful murals you’ll find roaming around Soho, as part of the MAUS initiative

Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the storied Heredia District, Málaga’s former 19th century bourgeois enclave, has emerged reborn.

It’s no secret that Wally and I both love graffiti and murals, so when our friends Jo and José proposed a visit to the Barrio de las Artes, the epicenter of Málaga’s street art scene, we both said yes.

“Street artists from around the world have been invited to contribute and transform the district into an open-air gallery.”

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Wally and Jo pose in front of street art

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Duke takes his turn as well. Photo ops galore in Soho

Mighty MAUS

Located south of the main Alameda thoroughfare, the triangular-shaped quarter has rebranded itself as the Soho district. This was made possible through a public arts initiative that goes by the acronym MAUS (Málaga Arte Urbano Soho), turning the surrounding streets and buildings into canvases.

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If you see vermin tumbling from the sky, you’re in the right place. It’s a street mural by Roa, who paints animals native to the local environment — like, um, rats

The first large-scale work we encountered was an expressive black and white mural created by Belgian street artist Roa depicting wiry haired rats tumbling down the curving façade of a multistory building at the eastern end of Calle Casa de Campo.

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Devote an hour or so to explore (and photograph) the street art scene in Málaga

Since we had recently indulged in a big lunch, José proposed that the four of us check out the rooftop terrace bar of the Hotel Soho Bahía. When we arrived, we found that it was closed. Perhaps an extension of the previous Labor Day holiday, perhaps not — who can say, as businesses seem to run on a different timetable in Spain.

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The bold multistory mural on the exterior of the Hotel Soho Bahía, La Danse de Venus et du Marin by Remed and Okuda, is a combination of vibrant colors and shapes

Street artists from around the world have been invited by Fernando Francés, the director of the Centro de Arte Contemporáneo (CAC) to contribute and transform the district into an open-air gallery. Admission to the museum is free, and it’s located next to the Guadalmedina River near the city center in a building that was previously a warehouse used for Málaga’s wholesale markets.

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El poder de la imaginacton: The Soho district shows the power of the imagination in action

We didn’t have time to stop inside but had fun posing with the letters (choose one that corresponds to your initials) by a mural by Boa Mistura that reads, “El poder de la imaginacion nos hace infinitos” (The power of the imagination makes us infinite).

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D is for Duke

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O boy, it’s Wally!

Two of the most high-profile works loom larger than life on the façade of the Colegio García Lorca directly behind the museum — seven stories high to be exact.

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Vibrant murals by D*Face and Obey loom above the art museum

To the right is Paz y Libertad (Peace and Liberty) by Shepard Fairey aka Obey. For those of you who may not be familiar with Fairey, he’s the artist responsible for creating the iconic “Hope” image depicting then-presidential candidate Barack Obama.

Opposite Fairey’s piece is a mural by Dean Stockton aka D*Face: a tongue-in-cheek pop art-inspired piece that declares, “I’ll put an end to those flying D*Dogs if it’s the last thing I ever do!!!” I love that the fighter pilot has one red eye and one blue.

The art-focused transformation of Málaga’s Soho district elevates the medium and was a highlight of our visit. The key is to remember to look up. –Duke

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And if your street art hunt gets to be too much, just take a nap along the Guadalmedina River like Jo

Mercado de la Merced: Our Favorite Stalls

Eat your way through Malaga’s refined and friendly food hall, which includes 22 fast-casual concepts under one roof.

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Dining options galore (and farmers’ market shopping during the day) at the Mercado de la Merced in Málaga, Spain

The Mercado de la Merced is a short stroll from the famous Plaza de la Merced, where a monument erected in honor of General José María de Torrijos and 48 of his men stands. Torrijos was executed by a firing squad on the beach of San Andres by the order of King Ferdinand VII in 1831 after a failed attempt to overthrow the regime. Incidentally, the square also contains Pablo Picasso’s birth home, which is now a museum.

Market Days

A destination within itself, the Mercado de la Merced boasts a variety of eateries preparing and selling delicious regional cuisine in a casual setting. It also has stalls that sell adult beverages, and Jo, Wally and I shared a bottle of El Nomada Rioja from Taninos Vinocateca.

“Suffice to say, we returned a second time and probably would have returned a third had time allowed.”

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Salud to great friends and great food

We sat on colorful bent steel and wood barstools, designed by the innovative studio Design Club. The three of us shared empanadas, wine and mini ebelskiver pancakes.

Suffice to say, we returned a second time and probably would have returned a third had time allowed.
 

Here are a few of our favorites stalls at the mercado:

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Nice gams: The oh-so-delicious Ibérico ham can be aged for over three years!

1. Beher Iberian Ham

This prized artisanal ham from the family-run business Beher is cured for at least 30 to 42 months and is made from black-skinned pure-bred pata negra (black-hoofed) Ibérico pigs so named for the hoof that accompanies each ham.

What makes this distinctive, silky textured meat unique is that the pigs roam freely in dehesas (ancient oak groves), grazing on grass for 18 to 24 months. When the oak trees drop their acorns in early fall, the piggies gorge solely on an acorn-rich diet until they reach their kill weight of 360 pounds.

I always look forward to the luxury of enjoying Iberian ham when we visit Spain, and it's incredible to watch it being expertly hand-carved.

2. Carnes & Cía Grill

One word: empanadas. Carnes & Cía brings the flavors of Argentina to Málaga. The empanadas are filled with meats that have been grilled Argentinian-style over coals, yielding tender morsels of smoky and succulent meat. Did I mention that they are  accompanied with homemade chimichurri sauce?

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Mini ebelskiver pancake puffs, a Dutch dessert, from the Pof stall

3. Pof

There’s no denying that I have a sweet tooth and will always say yes to dessert. One of Pof’s specialties is delicious homemade mini ebelskiver pancake puffs, a treat originating from Denmark. Six warm, pillowy puffs are made to order and topped with a dulce de leche sauce, a dusting of powdered sugar and sliced strawberries if you’d like — what’s not to like?

While we were waiting for ours, Jo remarked about the young woman working there who was wearing a floppy white chef hat.

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Whipping up another batch of mini pancakes at Pof in the Mercado de la Merced

“How can she wear that on her head and still look cute?” Jo wanted to know.

The young woman reminded me a bit of Anna Paquin. We watched as she whipped up the mini pancakes. There were a few burnt ones sitting in the center of the multi-row concave pan the batter is put into.

“Well, that certainly isn't selling, it,” said the ever-candid Jo.

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Who’s in the mood for octopus?

We never made it to the mercado during the day but saw an entire section of stalls that act as a farmers’ market during the day, where you can shop for fresh seafood, fruit, vegetables, meat and more. Wally and I, of course, were delighted with the whimsical designs on the closed stalls — it was fun to guess what lay within.

¡Buen provecho! –Duke