When Husband and I were planning our trip through Andalusia, we were as gung-ho on going to little-known Ceuta as we were on going to our main attractions Seville and Granada, even though there's nothing to do there, it's not necessarily beautiful, and it's not known for any particularly good food or landmarks. Why would we be so determined to visit this lil baby hamlet (#yayhamlet) for barely 24 hours when we had such a tight schedule? Because Ceuta is a Spanish town, but it's in Africa. So weird right! Located across the Strait of Gibraltar at the northernmost point of Africa, Ceuta is a Spanish autonomous city, which for us means one thing - another addition on the Travelers' Century Club list. Yes we are nerds but we want to hit that 100 mark!
After a few days in Seville, Husband and I traveled to Granada, mostly to see the Alhambra. I have to admit, I had no idea about the Alhambra before this trip. How could I have known, when most of my life I thought Granada was a fake camp made up in the song I refer to in the title? (By the way, today I learned that that song won a Grammy.) (So has LeVar Burton which is my favorite random fact.) (Obama has two.) Obviously, I had no idea of the wonder that was in store for me. Not only is the Alhambra even more incredible than you can imagine, but Granada itself was probably my favorite city of our whole trip through Andalusia. Is it because it was the only one with a strong vegetarian restaurant that I really enjoyed? The world will never know. But that wouldn't change the fact that I had a very enjoyable time.
Recently, Husband and I spent a weekend in Madrid, and then two weeks later we returned to Spain for an extended trip through Andalusia, because whenever we go to Spain, we go back two weeks later. Not really on purpose, it's just how our travels always fall and it's weird but hey we like Spain. If we go to Spain once, we go twice, usually in the same month. But this part of Spain, the southern part, was new to us, although I did spend a weekend during college in Malaga at a resort I found on hostelworld.com for supercheap but I didn't leave the resort the whole time so it doesn't really count. Also I was alone at the resort, which was filled with Spanish families and lots of children and everyone stared me and it was the most awkward thing ever. Anyway, we're not here to talk about that. We are here to talk about something that finally surpassed the awkwardness of that Malaga weekend: Easter week in Seville. See, we didn't realize that Seville was the epicentre of Easter, not until we were smack dab in the center of the insane crowds and shocking costumes. I don't know if you know this, but you know Jesus? Hoo boy, he's big there. And Jesus Fever spreads at similar strengths throughout all of Andalusia, so while I'm just talking about Seville today, the rest of my Andalusia posts will feature similar levels of craycray bananapants.