Periana, Spain - Day 4 🚕

This blog is brought to you by Barry

Today began in what was becoming the usual routine for this Spanish excursion, with everyone emerging sometime after 9am for coffee, juice and breakfast by the pool. The plan for the group was that we were to spend a chilled morning in the villa before heading on an expedition to the city of Granada around 12:30. These hours passed quickly without much to report - Sam, Steed and I used the time to perfect our aquatic  ball and frisbee throwing skills in the pool, before the whole family group briefly gathered to marvel at a group of Vultures we had spied circling the peak of a nearby mountain.

Vulture View!

Soon enough it was time to prepare ourselves for the longest excursion of the holiday, we had a guided tour of the Alhambra fortress booked for 3pm so the plan was to drive across the mountains to Granada and then park at a large open air car park on the outskirts of the city (but near our destination) to avoid the city centre parking, which had been described as 'harrowing' by one Trip Advisor reviewer.

Sam and Ruth joined Steed and Karolyn in their vehicle to begin the journey. The first challenge was leaving the villa as this required a complex reversing manoeuvre due to a lack of space for turning, round several corners past jagged rocks and sheer drop offs on either side of the road. I watched for guidance as Steed completed this move with aplomb and then took my turn following the same route, which was upgraded to Advanced level due to the added presence of observing neighbours and Dolly the Dog scurrying around the wheels of my car. With this completed first try, it felt like there was nothing that could stop us as Ellie and I set off towards Granada.

Apple Maps had me head back through the familiar sites of Periana before requesting a sharp left turn up possibly the steepest road I had ever driven up. With Ellie's life in my hands I guided our little car to the top of the hill with my heart racing, although when I reached the top I realised if I knew what was coming to greet me I may have chosen a different direction. The tarmac quickly disappeared and we found ourselves bouncing along a dirt track that became rockier and more uneven by the second. Alarm bells in my head were ringing by the second that our little hire car wasn't designed for such conditions and we might be best to turn around. Had we continued on any longer I would have turned but suddenly the conditions changed, and the road upgraded itself from 'Mountain Pass in Mordor' to 'Pleasant Tarmac'.

This part of the journey proved to be spectacular. Huge rocky outcrops and mountains surrounded us from all angles and Ellie gazed in wonder out of the window as we swept past vistas straight out of a car commercial or Top Gear driving montage.

After some time we found ourselves in the small town of Alhama de Granada (not to be confused with the Alhambra, in Granada) weaving back through some small streets that excitingly included giants statues of a tomato and some lettuce, before heading back to the hills. It was at this point that the tyre pressure light came on in the car, quickly followed by the sounds of the vehicle struggling as I headed up a slope. Uh-oh.

We parked up and observed to our dismay that the front right-hand tyre had suffered a puncture. Being practical sorts we hunted for a spare tyre on the vehicle but no luck, we were stranded! This wasn't a situation either of us wanted to find ourselves in but as I could see the stress in Ellie's eyes it was time for me to grasp the nettle and get ourselves out of it. After some time on hold I managed to get through on the phone to the rental company who assured me that someone would be on the way shortly, and not five minutes later I had a call from the garage that was on their way to assist. His English wasn't the best and I cursed myself for not picking a more practical language such as Spanish during my Duolingo phase - rudimentary Swedish being of very little use in the mountains of Andalusia. I did my best to explain my location and the road number we were on, thanking the Offspring's 'Pretty Fly For A White Guy' for my ability to count to at least six in Spanish and therefore accurately give the road number we were on.

The truck arrived quickly enough and we soon surmised that he was here to tow the car away rather than replace the tyre. Our new Spanish friend called his office and then explained to us that we'd have to contact our rental company to get a taxi back to our villa, so it seemed there would be no Granada for us today. He offered to drive us back into the town we'd just passed as it would be a more comfortable spot to wait rather than the sunny roadside, so we clambered into the tow truck where I called Goldcar to arrange the taxi as requested while we bounced into town. This conversation was quite confusing as neither party had enough of a common language to confirm where we were being picked up or what would happen from there, aside from being assured that everything would be OK. And so with the best wishes of our tow truck driver (and some recommendations for lunch should we decide to stick around), we found ourselves on the streets of Alhama de Granada without much of a plan apart from finding a shady spot to sit and wait.

We located a tree lined town square with a bench that suited Ellie's needs. Soon enough, the phone rang and I found myself on the line with the taxi driver who'd been dispatched to pick us up. This made previous conversations look like masterclasses in international communication as his English proficiency was definitely at zero, and the fact that we were in the town of Alhama de Granada and not at the Alhambra in Granada nearly caused some major confusion. Luckily I had our street address to hand along with the name of an adjacent petrol station as a landmark so I ended the call with at least 90% confidence he was on the way to the right location. Soon after, the phone rang again, this time from an unknown UK number, the conversation going as follows:

ME: Hello

LOUD COCKNEY MAN: Whoooo are you?

ME: I'm sorry?

LOUD COCKNEY MAN: You just called me!

Me: No I didn't. Goodbye

After a wait of around 50 minutes our taxi saviour arrived, and as we entered the car I managed to work out that he hadn't been sent to take us back to the villa but instead to pick up a new car at Granada Airport (that's Granada Airport, not Alhama de Granada or the Alhambra in Granada, keep up). Half an hour later we found ourselves at the Goldcar office at the small airport where the helpful agent gave us keys to a new vehicle, this time a trusty Skoda, and we were on our way with the only payment required being the fuel used in Car #1.

It was a short trip motorways through the urban outskirts of Granada, eventually arriving at the intended car park amazingly only 2 hours after we'd planned despite all the mishaps and multiple forms of transportation. It was a very hot day and we were glad for the shade of the orange trees as we made the walk down the hill towards the Alhambra fortress. We tried to enter using the tickets for our guided tour but were rejected due to our late arrival, so made our way around the side of the imposing walls around to the publicly accessible section of the building.

The rest of our party were just the other side of this in some beautiful gardens that were tantalisingly out of reach and guarded by a second entrance. Here we tried our luck again in an effort to join our tour group, and through a combination of 50% charm, 50% sob story ('car...tyres...late') managed to blag our way in and meet up with the Hubbard gang.

Despite the days shenanigans we hadn't actually missed too much of the tour itself and we were handed earpieces by our guide, Raphael so we could listen in as he enthusiastically walked us around the various historic buildings and gardens, all of which we very impressive and offering amazing views of the cityscape below. Often he seemed to be as out of breath as the rest of the tour group as he marched us up and down the stairs, so we were all treated to his heavy panting in our ears whenever we ascended a particularly challenging set of stairs. His passion for the building and its history was palpable though, particularly the water system, and any point of interest or historical fact would be prefaced by an excited 'look at this! look at this!'.

Our original plan when the tour was complete was to get some dinner in Granada and then head back to the villa. However, in true Spanish fashion, the restaurant nearest the Alhambra didn't open for dinner until 8pm and no-one fancied the drive across the mountains in the dark, so it was decided that we would drive home and utilise the pizzas we had in the fridge for our evening meal - after a sangria, of course.

Thankfully the route home was far less dramatic, and once we'd left the motorways the sweeping roads down and through the mountain valleys were even more impressive than those we'd seen on the way here, still full of the yellow and pink colours of early Summer in Spain. Once we left 'real' roads I have to admit that my nerves were properly jangling for the final part of the drive as the gradient, narrowness and poor condition of the roads on the approach to the villa have to be seen to be believed. Even without todays tyre incident I can safely say I do not enjoy driving in this area of Spain and the beer I drank when I finally had us safe and through the door tasted of pure relief.

After some misadventures getting used to the rather eccentric gas oven in the property, which as one point produced potato wedges that were burned on the outside but frozen on the inside, we collectively managed to create a feast of pizza and salad with plenty of wine to wash it down to commemorate an eventful but ultimately successful day. Hopefully there will be much less drama in Ellie's blog tomorrow!