Giovanna Dell’Orto, Associated Press POSTED: Sunday, August 25, 2013, 3:01 AM
GRANADA, Spain – For the third time in a week, I’m visiting the Alhambra, one of the most popular sites in the world’s fourth most-visited country, and finally I have it all to myself. The loudest sound on this late May night is not a pushy guide but a bullfrog in one of the fountains in the hilltop Islamic palace complex in southern Spain. I linger to stick my nose into the cabbage-size roses lining the pathways and to gaze over the floodlit, red-tinged ramparts. Their massive simplicity belies the intricacy of the palaces inside, and I can easily believe the legend that the last Muslim ruler wept as he left Granada. Centuries later, we can be grateful that the conquering Christian royalty left this masterpiece nearly intact. Nowhere in Europe is the complex coexistence between Islam and Christianity more etched in historical landscapes and current customs than here, in Spain’s Andalusia, a vast region of snowy mountains, olive-studded valleys, and desert coasts whose tip is less than 10 miles (16 kilometers) from Morocco. For nearly 800 years, caliphs ruled Andalusia. In 1492, the Catholic king and queen, Ferdinand and Isabella, put an end to the last Islamic stronghold in Europe – a few months before signing off on Christopher Columbus’ trip to the New World, which also started here. I’ve traveled through the region in fall, winter, and spring to admire the Muslim-Christian monuments in the major cities of Granada, Cordoba, and Seville. But this year, on a longer trip, I found the mingling of cultures in everyday life. Of course, Andalusia also offers all the other experiences that draw tourists to Spain: Channeling Hemingway at a bullfight, getting goose bumps from a wailing flamenco singer, mingling sacred and profane at the Eastertide processions and fairs, gorging on jamon iberico and whole fish baked in sea salt, and joining throngs of sunburned northern Europeans on Mediterranean beaches. But what’s unique about Andalusia is the trail of Islamic conquerors who arrived in the eighth century, and the Catholic monarchs who imposed their reconquista (reconquering) centuries later – vanquishing not just Islam but also eventually the Jews who had flourished under the Muslims’ tolerant rule. Cordoba Begin your visit with the earliest masterpiece, the bizarrely repurposed great mosque, now a cathedral, of Cordoba. From its massive size and horseshoe arches, the Mezquita’s exterior gives some hints that this is not your typical medieval cathedral, but walking inside still stuns. Out of the darkness, pierced by low-hanging lights, emerges a multiplication of two-tiered arches in all directions, disorienting like a house of mirrors. This forest of shiny columns and red-and-white arches, together with the kaleidoscope of golden mosaics, Arabic inscriptions, and carvings, shows off what I see as the hallmarks of Andalusian Islamic art. Geometry and repetition play with light to create flowing motifs that overwhelm with their richness but, at the same time, seem weightless. The whitewashed homes nearby, covered with decorative iron grilles and bright potted plants, were part of Cordoba’s Jewish quarter, called the Juderia, a center of Jewish intellectuals before the Catholic takeover. The great philosopher Maimonides was born in Cordoba in the 12th century, and a modern statue of him is located in the quarter near a 14th-century synagogue. But Maimonides did not die here; he fled to Egypt as the persecution of Jews began under the Catholic regime. Seville Less than 100 miles to the southwest, Seville’s grand cathedral also incorporated a Muslim element: La Giralda, the former 12th-century minaret, now a bell tower, nearly identical to towers still standing in Rabat and Marrakech. Next door is another much-embellished fortress, an alcazar, this one also visited by Ferdinand and Isabella as well as Columbus. Its style, called mudejar, is all about fusion, reflecting the taste and workmanship of Muslim artists in Catholic Spain. 