I hate waking up early, but this was totally worth it

Stars in the ceiling

On Saturday we woke up before the sunrise.  Granada, Spain. Ten degrees celsius. The streets were damp from a pre-dawn shower, and puddles flickered with the streetlights.

Why were we awake again? This was supposed to be vacation.

Ah, lack of planning. Right.  La Alhambra, the royal palace of the Moors, a finalist for the new Seven Wonders of the World, was rightly popular with visitors, and we hadn't gotten tickets in time.  We were forced to set the alarm, line up in the queue at opening time for the ticket office, and cross our fingers.

The walk to the ticket office is a little more than a mile, straight uphill, dark forests on both sides of the path.  The cobblestones are slippery and the road is steep, and The Mister and I look at each other like, we better get tickets for this thing because I can think of many, many other activities that would be more uplifting in this moment than falling and cracking my head on these cobblestones.

And then the path splits; up one hill to the left, up another one to the right.  Lost. No ticket office, and not a soul to be seen. It's getting closer to opening time, and we know the line for the few available tickets must be growing. Ugh.  Then, in the darkness, a few figures appear.  Four Spaniards, friendly even at this inhospitable hour. They respond kindly to our inquiries on the location of the ticket office, pointing us up another hill.  When it fails to appear there, we work our way around another bend, running into the same troop of four friends.  "It wasn't up there," we lament, "we aren't going to be able to get tickets."

"Oh!" they exclaim, "you need tickets? We have two extra tickets. We'll give them to you for sticker price. Come with us and get a coffee, our entry time is in 30 minutes." (This conversation has been abbreviated, it was really very chatty.  These are Spaniards, after all.)

And that is how we took a hike, got lost, avoided falling down cobblestone streets, scored tickets to the Alhambra, and made new Spanish friends, all before the sun even came up.



P.S.  As a side note, if you ever are lucky enough to get a chance to visit La Alhambra, it is my hearty recommendation to go right at opening time, when it's still dark, like we did.  The lights cast ethereal shadows on the carved walls, and lent a texture and air of timelessness to the structure.  And it's like a bonus that if you forget to reserve your tickets ahead of time and end up in the pre-dawn scramble, you can reassure yourself that you are really making the right decision, and that those who sleep in and visit at 10 a.m. are uncultured hacks. It really will make you feel better.