As the sun rose over Granada, Spain, on the morning of March 21, you could tell that the day would be special. But the sun didn’t wake me up. My mom did. “We’re going to the Alhambra today,” she said. It was true. That morning we saw the Alhambra, including a lookout tower, beautiful gardens, and a few palaces. Once kings, queens, and their families lived there. The designs on the roof and walls were pretty, and almost all of them were symmetrical. But to me, the best part of my birthday was that night.
We went to the Sacromonte that night, and we saw caves carved into mountains in which people live in. We met Mohammed, who is a woodworker who makes beautiful designs with wood. His cave looked great and fun to live in. It had a new addition too: running water. My dad said he wouldn’t want to live in a cave because he would be afraid of it collapsing. Not me!
Dinner was at a place called La Porrona, and they made what my parents call “good paella.” Unfortunately, paella isn’t really my thing, so I had dessert instead. Our tour guide, who is named Ann, gave me some presents. It was two sets of castañuelas and a little mirror with a design from the Alhambra. The lady that works at La Porrona was a professional flamenco dancer, and she demonstrated how to use the castañuelas. “Click, click, click, clack” was the sound they made when she played them. She played them quickly. Then she gave me a small chocolate cake for dessert.
After dinner, we saw a dance of flamenco. There was a guitar player, a singer, and two dancers–a man and a woman. The woman danced madly. Her expression made her look angry and fierce. Her shoes tapped the floor in rhythm, and her hair flew whenever she jumped. Sometimes her peineta fell off. She hopped and stomped and twirled to the rhythm. Her shoes “click-clacked” when they hit the ground. She snapped her fingers a few times. The man did the same.
Then we went back to the hotel. I felt like a tired zombie. My birthday had been very fun. Yet I turned 10 at 11:46 pm, or 6:46 eastern time. I slept through it soundly. The next morning, I could sleep in as much as I wanted. Not that I did. I just woke up smiling. The first real day of being ten.
Since Lucy’s turned 10, we have added a few things on the site: