Once we made it into our cave, it was all worth it. Quite the experience!
We freshened up and went out to explore, falling in love with our little neighborhood every step of the way...
Along the way, we walked by one of the many flamenco caves and on a whim, bought tickets for a show later that night. It turns out the owner, Martin, lived in California for 20 years so we quickly became his new best friends. He invited us back the following night, where we enjoyed another show along with him. He had a table for us right up front and brought out the bottles of cava, so sweet. It was there that we learned his mother was a flamenco dancer who owned the cave and she told him that if he did not return back to Granada, he would lose it all. He spent the whole night reminiscing with us about California with longing in his eyes, all the meanwhile, we were sitting there dreaming of moving to Granada. The grass is always greener, no?
We've seen flamenco shows here but honestly, nothing compares to seeing one in Granada in a cave. The acoustics in the cave were phenomenal, the dancers were amazing and we felt like we had infiltrated their own private jam session, filled with improvisation. We loved watching them get excited with the other's moves, shouting out and encouraging each other on. They were like a little family, playing each night together, seemingly oblivious to the crowds, and each night we would watch them hike up the hills with us back to their homes in Sacramonte.
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