Granada is covered in mist which may be the reason for why there are so little people walking its streets. I love this silence. It seeps into your bones, making you want to move just a little slower, breathe deeper and relish in the cold that bites your fingers. The neighborhoods of Albaicin, Sacromonte, San Ildefonso are like portals into a different time. Well preserved, it is surreal to think that when I place my feet on its cobbled streets, I am walking on top of centuries-old urban design extending as far back as the Romans.
Observations typed on My Notes App While I was Walking Alone on a Quiet Sunday Morning: 1. Pigeons cooing in the background 2. Mist 3. The sound of my feet treading on the street 4. The cooing of birds I can’t identify 5. the rustle of leaves on the ground 6. the buzz of electricity 7. the clang of people opening and closing their iron doors 8. an older man saying “chica chica” behind me forcing me to acknowledge I am a woman in a skirt walking alone 9. romanticism shattered
Where in the world 
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