U-turn

My mission was completed as I found the flamenco artists we were looking for and was glad my guess was right:  the person I searched the musicians for loved the twin Flamenco Heavies. I had a tremendous time in Jerez, unsurprisingly, since I was never bored with gypsies.
I managed escaping to Burtuqal, taking a walk in the sand and a long look at my beautiful Atlantic ocean.
I finally went to Granada and I have to make three statements:
    When arriving to Granada, I had like a déja vu, since the surroundings and the snow white peaks of Sierra Nevada behind the city look very similar to the Atlas behind Marrakesh... No wonder the Moors established  such a city there.. when they arrived they thought they were home!
    I was told that the Moors had been pushed out some five centuries ago. It was a lie, they never left! I saw them in all the locals' faces.
   When I visited the Alhambra, as much I was blown away, I have to say (and it surprised me at first place!) I felt some kind of resentment toward the Catholic barbaric Kings that occupied the place so shortly after this eighth world wonder was built...
A month in Andalucia passed so quickly, with happy reunions, interesting and fruitful new encounters, a joyful sunny farewell and a few blue hours before take off .
In this month, I ate enough jamon (if it is ever possible to connect "jamon" and "enough"), learned how to cook a "carrillada", drank more than too much Cruzcampo (that is always too much, starting from the first sip), was touched by the bliss of love and got shaken upside down once more, attended an endless juerga flamenca, met the new born babies of my friends, got to know all the gossips I needed to know about (if that is ever possible), was advised to give a name to my transplanted corneas (Antonia y Pepe) to feel more at ease with them, met Anthony Hopkins and Albert Einstein in one, a photographer who's specialty is to take pictures of things you don't see (or you don't remember ever have seen, even if you were standing just next to her when the shutter was closing), and a funeral violinist  who at times, also plays in bullfighting arenas.

Now at the other end of the U-turn, I found myself suddenly back in the "flat land" that is not really, but still a bit mine, for the sake of the years I have already lived here, and not so long ago. Back to grey skies, to seeing giraffes from the window,  back to good silly crisscross talks with Sarajevo, back to good beer, even back to a relocated friend from Sevilla who still calls me "Bruji"... and thinking I shall wonder if my U-turn is not in fact a roundabout with various exits, since for some weird reasons, the people from here are called, in Spanish, the Flamencos.