It is always difficult to leave a place that you have grown fond of. Medieval Cordoba represents the stronghold of that lost dream of peaceful co-existence, wherein religion was seen as a path to the mythic realms, while community provided the stable force to provide meaning within the mundane: “There is a reason to live, and the exploration of life is reason in itself.” The atmosphere of the place is palpable as we walk through the cozy cobble stoned backstreets where the sandals of the great poets and philosophers walked and where artisans worked there magic. This was the greatest city in Europe with over a million inhabitants. Where discussions included the appropriateness of names by which we might refer to our gods, and where rules of society were formed, some of which remain an essential part of constitutions throughout the world until this day.
I had a dream in which the Mezquita was filled with all the world’s refugees. They were in need of some supernal sustenance. The great minds were obligated to find a solution. The question was whether there was enough to go around. The answer was that with the correct attitude it would be possible for all to be fed.
I have taken so many photographs of churches, shrines, Jesus statues, Mary posters, stained glass windows, cathedrals, and altars that Cindy jokes that I am, “Turning Catholic.”
Bubion The drive from Cordoba by-passed Grenada and then took us up into the Sierra Nevada mountains. The incline was steep and sudden, heading up along hairpin bends barely wide enough for two vehicles with deep drop-offs inches to our right looking down into craggy valleys. A car could fall a long way quickly with one false move. Early along the journey into the mountains we looked out at eye level at giant windmills. Soon we were looking down on soaring hawks. We continued up past Lanjaron the first and largest of the mountain towns, and on to Orgiva the capital of the region. The road rose steeper still from here until we reached the first of the three white, mountain villages, Pampaniera, the gateway to our town, Bubion and on to Capileira; this trinity of mountain jewels set into the arid, terraced terrain and cradled under the snowy peaks of the tallest mountains in Europe besides the Alps.
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