why should i not move here? that was all i could think as i wandered up into the hills of granada. i seem to be innately drawn to places like this. quiet streets done in spanish style. the first was santa fe, with its perfect little haciendas and gardens and its library quietness. the second was san miguel de allende, with its lovely jardín principal and its innocent streets. and now spain. the farthest, yes, but still the magical third.
granada’s streets are close, sauntering, cobblestone affairs, each one offering itself to you like an embrace. candil, santísimo, gloria—won’t you take this paseo? the higher into the hills i walked, the more i felt at peace. removed from the world, even. granada feels like a place where stress could never thrive…but maybe i could?
won’t you pass this way?