Flamenco music in Granada, Spain

Jim, LuAnn, Tom, and I pay 6 Euros each to  cram into the small space of "Le Chien Andalou." We order some tapas and drinks, and wait. 

From Flamenco The guitarist begins, playing a a mesmerizing melody with punctuated chords. His posture and passion makes me think of Picasso's Blue Guitarist.

From Flamenco

The singer begins, his voice melismatic and powerful, his eyes passionate. The singer and guitarist exchange musical conversation, weaving their music expertly and beautifully. The song ends with intensity so great the singer must stand, clap, and stomp with a flurry.

From Flamenco A new song invites the dancer, who adds rhythmic intensity with the complex rhythms of her feet on the wood floor and her hands snapping and clapping. The dancer also plays the role of musician and actor.

From Flamenco

A fraction of the music and dance we saw: 

Montée la montagne

I love the French translation for climb the mountain. To my ears, montée sounds so similar to montagne; the words belong together!

La montagne Aaron, Allison, and I intend to climb is Mt. Toubkal, the tallest peak in North Africa (13671ft/4167m). We meet our guide, Hassan, and two mules in the tiny town of Imlil. We load our heavier packs of food and tents on to the mules, and begin hiking from an elevation of 5905 feet (1800 m). 

Aaron, Allison, and Hassan hike past Armd.

From Toubkal Our mules pass us. We see them again at base camp.

From Toubkal

Along the way, we stop for refreshments in a makeshift shack. Our drinks are chilled by fresh mountain water. 

From Toubkal

I admire vegetation I've never seen before.

From Toubkal We reach base camp after 5-6 hours of hiking on the first day. Aaron digs out the spaghetti he made, and we dive in enthusiastically.

From Toubkal

At our base camp: sunset followed by a stunning starry sky. 

From Toubkal We wake on the second day at 6:00, before sunrise. Our big day, the forecasted 3-hour hike to the summit. My legs are exhausted from the day before. Another French phrase: j'ai fatigue. Literally translated: I have tired. Fatigue sounds so much more truthful at this point. As we hike up the scree (loose rocks), I had to remind my sleepy mind and tired body to keep going. I will do this. Berber guides stop and ask us how we are; I tell them in French and English that I am tired, but happy. I allow myself time to rest and breathe. A view of the summit gives me new motivation and energy.

From Toubkal From Toubkal After the false summit (see above), we reach the real summit, marked by people who've celebrated before us.  From Toubkal From Toubkal I love the view, the fresh air, the cold wind and the warm sun.  From Toubkal The descent is difficult, trying to maintain balance on sliding dirt and rocks while caring for my knees. We turn around and hike the whole way down, resulting in about 9 hours of hiking in one day. I lag behind, being careful, and make occasional small-talk with Hassan.  For me, hiking this far brings me back to the basics of thinking, listening, and moving forward one step at a time. I celebrate where I've been and where I'm going to. I look backward and admire, forward with excitement and anxiety. I listen to my body. Sometimes it has energy, other times I have to push myself to keep going.  J'ai fatigue, mais je suis happy.  -Karissa