The Farnoudian Chronicles

When we left the caves, the truth settled in. It was the last night of the trip. We walked the lively streets of Granada for a very long time until we found a restaurant with beautiful outdoor seating and ordered seafood and local white wine. We had talked for days about history and politics and this time we covered the Dallas years, looked at some old photos on our phones, and laughed.

In the morning, I had the last crushed tomatoes on olive-oil-covered baguette and the last drink of cafe con lece before hitting the road. The olive trees give Andalucia an unforgettable look. While driving around the province of Jaén, we turned the car towards Banos de la Encina. We walked around the small town first. With a population of 2,000, Banos de la Encina is a quiet, nevertheless beautiful, place. I was once again fascinated by the white storks, which had built their nest on top of the 17th century church.

We then visited the Burgalimar Castle, the oldest fortress built by Muslims in Spain with a thousand year old sign that proudly announces its construction date as 967 AD. David went around the building looking for a way in and I stood outside the castle thinking and taking photos of the highway and the olive trees. This trip embodied the push-pull of human history. Seeing Hagia-Sophia changing hands so many times since 357 AD to eventually end up as a museum and then a mosque, hearing the Spanish guard trying to communicate with me that I should remove my hat because the Cordoba mosque was now a Catholic cathedral, and witnessing the Toledo cathedral built on top of the old mosque helped me understand what I had only read in books. At Sinagogue El Transito we talked about the expulsion of Jews in 1492 and then the expulsion of Muslims in 1609. I listened in awe when David explained that there was a financial crisis after the expulsion of Jews who were handling the financials for centuries and famine after the expulsion of Muslims who had planted crops for 700 years, but the victors went through with the plan nonetheless. If there was any luck to reverse these horrible events, that luck was killed by Inquisition, which put a large “closed” stamp on these dossiers. It allowed people to accuse other citizens of not being true Christians. The accused would either immediately confess to the accusation to be then publicly humiliated and lose any opportunities for business, education, and normal life, or would agree to a legal proceeding including barbarous torture. The fact that we stood on the streets where people were sentenced to wearing penitential garments and walked around the city sent a chill down my spine. On that hill looking around Andalucia, I remembered Dr. Mohammad Ali Foroughi, Iran’s prime minister in the 1920s and a poet, philosopher, and historian, who once wrote of his only regret about death: the fact that he would like to know where sapiens will end up.

The palace would open at 4 PM and with five hours of drive in front of us, we had to skip visiting the inside. Hours of chatting, some good food and beer in Madrid, and a PCR test ended the last night. On the way back, I thought about my first trip to Istanbul, which was also the first trip to another country that I could remember. The year was ’89. My father was younger than me at the time and now that he’s dancing with angels, thinking about him in this light gives it a new meaning.

On this trip, my friends Hedieh in Istanbul and David in Spain were gracious hosts who showed me around their respective cities and country. I was lucky to be with people whose every sentence could be a blog post by itself. I came back from this trip a new person and even though it came to an end, I would like to remember Frank Herbert’s quote that “there are no real endings. It is just the place where you stop the story.” It was my first trip as a photographer, ever. I may be stopping one story but I am sure it will be leveraged to begin a second one and that is an exciting thought. To many more.

As I was reading about Alhambra last night, I remembered leaving the complex through the main gate, and when I read that it was built in 1368, a chill went down my spine. You look back at history and read about all the events and the people. You read about the bubonic plague and the Black Death that claimed tens of millions of lives, and then you notice that most places you saw on this trip were built only shortly thereafter. Synagogue of El Transito – 1357, gates of Alhambra – 1368, the hotel in Toledo – 1388. The Black Death ended in 1353. These buildings were erected when humans were trying to prove that even an event that claims the lives of one out of every three people cannot impact their resilience, and in that, there may be a lesson for the mask-wearing, camera-holding, bearded man looking around in awe.

We walked around town and ended up in the Morrocan neighborhood of Granada for some phenomenal chicken tajine. Street musicians were playing some songs from the collection of the immortal Amy Winehouse, and I found the perfect opportunity for some portraits with the permission of the singer.

I wrote briefly about the Albaicin (Albayzin) neighborhood. If you take the neighborhood and go east, you will end up at Sacromonte – the caves that housed marginalized people of Granada, mostly gypsies, for centuries and are now the center of Flamenco in Granada. The path to Sacromonte goes through the historic parts of Granada as the area is in the vicinity of Alhambra. The city wall from the 11th century is preserved and now supports apartments that are still inhabited and maintained. It is a beautiful walk but it also includes some rough patches.

For Flamenco, we went to Cueva de la Rocio – A cave that has been owned by the Maya family for over 70 years. My first Flamenco show was in Madrid in 2009 and was a very different experience from what I saw at the caves. If you have not experienced Flamenco, it is all about communications. The singer to the guitarist, the guitar to the clappers, the claps to the dancer’s feet, the feet to the facial expressions. Power flows through the fast and strong moves of the Flamenco dancers and magically connects all the aspects together: the feet, the body, the guitar, and the song through the coarse voice of the singer. I would like to go back in life and look at my previous experiences through the new lens of new learnings. That night when we left, I remembered the Black Momba – Ishi Ren fight scene in the first volume of Kill Bill, and praised the genius of Quentin Tarantino for choosing Flamenco music for the long-awaited scene. The music connects everything together, the snow, the body movements, the katanas.

I took 1,500 photos during this trip and for some reason, on the night of the Flamenco dance, I decided not to carry my camera. I missed taking portraits of Flamenco dancers that I could have cherished for a very long time. Everybody makes mistakes. This one will be mine. I took some photos with my broken cell phone but I know that even if I ever forgive myself, my 85mm lens will one day come for revenge. It will be my regret of Granda until I come back; assuming that photography will still be my passion.

During this trip, I constantly looked around and loudly praised my surroundings – it was either the beauty of Istanbul, the age of the structures in Toledo or the majesty of Cordoba – and all this time, my friend David reminded me that what I will see in Granada will surpass them all. The first night in Granada was spent enjoying the beautiful Granada tradition of serving a small tapa with each beer. . We then saw the beauty of the city, watched part of Real Madrid – PSG soccer game, and discussed politics. One should live in the present moment, no doubt; but one should also constantly remember what path brought him to this moment. Years of graduate school in Dallas as a new fresh immigrant making friends and learning about America were a big part of this journey. Granada is one happy city and we enjoyed our time celebrating an old friendship. A celebration that we beautifully concluded with an assortment of desserts.

My friend was not wrong about Alhambra. From the moment we arrived in the complex until the moment we left, I could not keep my eyes off the wall. Alhambra’s construction started in the 12th century by the Muslim rulers. The palace changed hands multiple times and was altered over time. Particularly, the addition of Charles V’s palace in the 17th century was notable. Regardless, the carvings on the stone and the design of the interior and exterior spaces were so beautiful that one could just stand and appreciate the beauty of Alhambra for a long time. There was one sentence that repeated itself throughout the palace and on many of the walls “There’s no victor but God”, which I later learned was the motto of the Nasrid dynasty. The designers had also used a playful juxtaposition of light and dark in various places. The palace is on a hill and the windows open to breathtaking views of the city. The Albaicin neighborhood contains white houses forming narrow medieval streets that have the magical quality of slowing the Alhambra visitors down and making them take a selfie with the view. The best view was from the Alcazaba, the oldest surviving part of Alhambra. I wish I could take photos of all the tourists turned contemplators, but the photo I took of this young lady looking over the city will always remind me of the time on top of the fortress.

Alcázar de los Reyes Cristianos is a 14th-century building right by the Guadalquivir river – Perfect place for a palace. The palace is small but with phenomenal, well-maintained gardens that have been in place for over 1,000 years even preceding the actual palace. The horses of the royal stable were out showing their beauty in the slanted sunlight of early morning. Going through Alcázar and the garden demonstrates an interesting culture of recycling and reuse that I had not paid attention to at La Mezquita: Any of the Roman statues, columns, or construction materials that could be reused were used in the garden or the palace. The same was true about La Mezquita where some of the columns were Roman (and the same about Toledo). Later, when we saw the ruins of Madinat Al-Zahra, we found out that after the fall of the city, some of its construction materials were reused in Seville, over 100 miles away. There are now rules and regulations applying to reusing construction materials, but it is just too easy to pour new concrete. It was a different world back then. 

We then drove to Madinat-Alzahra, which was about four miles outside the city. It was the Washington, DC of We then drove to Madinat-Alzahra, which was about four miles outside the city. It was the Washington, DC of the Muslim Caliphs, although for a short period of 65 years. Built as a very impressive administrative city, Madinat-Alzahra was built on a slope by the side of the mountain with a palace on top and the houses of its civil servants below. The caliph would leave the palace and ride with his entourage for a few kilometers every Friday to pray in La Mezquita, which was quite a scene back in the 11th century. Madinat-Alzahra was looted multiple times and was finally buried under mud for hundreds of years until it was revived through excavation, though without the hustle and bustle of its previous life. Only about 12 percent of the city has been excavated and the majority is yet to be revealed.

I had not seen the white storks of Spain until we were in the proximity of Madinat-Alzahra. Hundreds of storks were above our heads and in the pastures around. It reminded me that my mother’s hometown of Tehran was one day host to many white storks. Air pollution and the expansion of the city sent all of the storks away. I distinctly remember the one and only time I saw a stork in Tehran at the age of five. The storks escorted us to our car for our last destination in Andalusia: Granada. The magical Alhambra was waiting as we started driving south.

One cannot talk about Andalusia without noting Andalusian cuisine. Let me rephrase that: One shall never talk about Andalusia without noting Andalusian cuisine, and why should one, if you are in Cordoba and you have already visited La Mezquita? Of the multiple places we reviewed, we settled on GastroTaberna La Albahaca, and what a choice! The food started with Salmorejo – A puree made from ripe tomatoes, bread, garlic, and of course, olive oil. I had serious doubts when the appetizer was ordered. I remembered my dislike of tomatoes and hatred of soup, let alone cold soup, and I was expecting something bland. However, it was only a matter of minutes before I was hit with a cavalcade of tastes. The second appetizer was Mazamorra – Another cold soup made out of almonds, stale bread, garlic, and of course, olive oil. The main meal consisted of another Andalusian food, Flamenquin, and Rabo de Toro, or oxtail, with meat so tender it was falling off the bone. Our waiter was a great gentleman who discussed the details of the food in Spanish and then described the general idea to me in English. As we were leaving, he saw my content face and asked me how the food was, to which I responded I wish I could have all the oxtail they had there. He responded that he had over 50 kilograms and he was not sure if I needed that much, but all joking aside, in spite of all that was going on around the world and the tumultuous year that resulted in this trip, there were a couple of hours in Cordoba when it felt like nothing in the universe needed to be improved upon.

And then, of course, there is the Roman Bridge of Cordoba. The main bridge on the Guadalquivir river for 20 centuries. In his masterpiece, “Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals”, Oliver Burkeman writes that each generation has at least one person who lives to be 100 years old. Now assume that this person’s life began when the life of the 100-year-old in the previous generation ended, and you realize that you are only 46 people away from the Great Pyramid of Giza. That is the sense that the Roman Bridge of Cordoba gives you, and honestly, the majority of the city. You walk on the same bridge that Seneca walked on, and yes, you are only 20 people away from him. You walk through the city gates that Averroes went through, and that is when you realize that we may not be very different from the ones before us.

The bridge was constructed by the Romans in the first century and then reconstructed during the Umayyad rule in the eighth century. Not much has changed since then other than multiple reconstructions, except for the statue of Arcangel Raphael that was put in place in the 17th century (during the visit I actually thought it was a fairly recent addition). Street musicians are always playing their songs on the bridge. As they should, as where else would one find such magic requiring music?

I have also added photos of the city as seen from the 12th century Calahorra Tower.

Islam originated in the Arabian peninsula in the 7th century. After the internal disputes settled and the entire peninsula was under a central government, the new Muslims started expanding their territory by attacking the lands that form the current day Syria, Iran, Iraq, and Egypt. If there was a news network back in the 7th century, there would have likely been hundreds of hours of expert panels discussing the future of the world with a completely new geopolitical map due to the fall of the Persian empire within a short two years. 29 years after Muhammad’s passing, Mu’awiyeh, the man who was the governor of Syria became the next Caliph, continued on the expansion, and started the Umayyad dynasty. The Umayyad dynasty at its peak covered a huge geographical area from today’s Pakistan on the east all the way to Spain and Portugal on the west. The Umayyad dynasty flexed its muscles until the Abbasid were able to defeat and wipe them out. Or … that is what I read in our history textbooks growing up in Iran. What I did not know was that the heir to the throne fled the uprising of the Abbasid in Damascus and moved to Cordoba. The Umayyad then ruled in current-day Spain and Portugal for almost 300 years after they were kicked out of their originally claimed lands. 

The heir to the throne was Abd-al-Rahman I who moved to Cordoba, Spain and started the construction of Mezquita, or the Mosque-Cathedral of Cordoba. That was the main site we wanted to visit in Cordoba, even though Alcazar and Madinat al Zahra were also on the list. Mezquita had multiple construction phases over 200 years and when fully built, it fit over 40,000 people. There are multiple estimates of the population of Cordoba at the time, which vary from 100,000 to one million people. However, the size of the Grand Mosque shows that it was a lively, prosperous, and populous city. 

The mosque was turned into a cathedral in the 13th century and major alterations were done to the original mosque from the 16th to the 18th century. One fascinating topic of discussion during our visit to Mezquita was the Muslims’ interest in building a very wide, though Christians’ interest in building a very tall structure. With the exception of the minaret, which had a slight height increase to become a bell tower, the rest of the architecture of the mosque was focused on comfortably fitting in more people where they can each dissolve within the crowd and operate as one unit. The height of the later cathedral structure, on the other hand, inspired a feeling of a higher power who’s watching those who pray. Both feelings are essential parts of both religions, but the Islamic architecture likely follows the movement around Ka’baa while the Christian architecture follows the design at the Sistine chapel.

I let the views from the bell tower conclude this post. Mezquita can be researched for a long time and Cordoba has a lot to offer. I can simply say that I consider myself lucky to have been able to see the site, and just like Toledo: I’ll be back.

Toledo Cathedral was a majestic place matching the beauty you see in the rest of the city. Unfortunately, it was also the only place in Spain where I was told that a professional camera cannot be used. I do not know if you have ever traveled as a photographer. When you see a frame that is begging to be taken and you do not have your camera or the appropriate lens on you, something inside you dies just a little. This happened in Toledo Cathedral and also on the last night in Granada where I did not take my camera to the Flamenco show in Sacramente, but that is another story. For now, please accept the photos from my broken phone camera.

The story of the cathedral does not differ from that of Toledo’s. A small church became a bigger Visigothic church. The Visigothic church was then torn down to be a mosque under Moorish rule, which was then razed to be a cathedral. The cathedral constantly evolved as the city did. I believe it is in Anasi Boys that Neil Gaiman writes about the importance of locations rather than buildings. He says people sense places exuding energy and they construct a place of worship on it, but the magic comes not from the brick, but the land itself. There were multiple places on this trip that reminded me of Mr. Gaiman’s novel and Toledo Cathedral was one of them. It has been sitting in this place since the 6th century and embellishing the streets of Toledo in its current form since the 13th century. Nevertheless, I should admit that even if there is any truth to Mr. Gaiman’s fictional theory, the strikingly intricate brick they put on this piece of land emanates the same amount of energy.

Back in 2011, I visited Portobelo, Panama. A small town of fewer than 4,600 people, which was one day the gateway to one-third of the world’s produced gold before it made its way to Europe. Of course, the story, the ruins of the Spanish fort, and the bay where Captain Morgan unsuccessfully attacked the fort for the gold made for some deep contemplations, but little did I know that the thought and the place will come back to me 11 years later after seeing the astonishingly designed monstrance built from South American gold in the City of Toledo.

A story like Toledo’s is rare: Roman city that becomes the Visigothic capital, the Muslim stronghold, and the Christian center. A city where Jews, Muslims, and Christians lived together in [relative] peace for centuries. And a city that keeps many of these elements in their original form to tell us all this story. I hope I come back one day, Toledo. 

Toledo has two major historical synagogues. Synagogue El Transito was the one we were able to visit as Synagogue la Santa Maria Blanca was closed to visitors due to COVID. Synagogue El Transito was built in 1357 and was an active synagogue for 135 years before the Explosion of Jews from Spain. It was then turned into a church and was even later used by Napoleon as a military barracks before it turned into a museum in 1910. In spite of the substantial change in use, the majority of the original walls and the ceiling were still untouched. The museum provided a fairly detailed audio guide that talked about the history of the building and the Sephardi jews. The timing of the construction was curious as it ensues the Black Death, which resulted in significant pressure on religious minorities. However, some quick Wikipedia research indicates a theory that Peter of Castile allowed the construction of the synagogue as compensation for what happened to the Jews as part of the anti-Jewish programs during the Black Death. Samuel HaLevi who was the king’s treasurer received the funding for the construction of El Transito, even though he fell from favor and died under torture a few short years later.

Walking in the Jewish Quarter among all the old buildings after leaving the Synagogue puts you in the 14th century, and that is a feeling I truly appreciate. However, the young students of the University of Castilla-La Mancha left their class around the same time and pretty quickly reminded me that we are in the 21st century.

We were not able to visit the interior of the impressive building that is the Monasterio de San Juan de Los Reyes. It is closed on certain days of the week and we were not lucky enough to be in Toledo on an open exhibit day. However, I was able to snap a few photos of the outside. An interesting historical fact that I learned was related to the chains hanging from the Monastery. The chains were placed on the building in 1494 as a symbol of the Christians that were freed from the Muslim land, which with today’s political and geographical maps, would refer to Granada. I should admit that there are perks to traveling with a history professor.

We stopped by the city gate and looked at the city walls before going to Toledo Cathedral. I did not take photos of the city walls, as little did I know that the city walls are remnants of the Roman time. If I ever go back to Toledo with my camera, I will not spare one inch of Old Town. Every inch and every step needs to be photographed.

My father owned an abridged version of “Ivanhoe” by Sir Walter Scott. As a kid, the picture of the knight on the cover attracted me but my English was not at the level to be able to read it. Finally, at 11, I read a few pages with difficulty and as a result, I bought the unabridged book, except in Farsi. I do not remember much, except for the distinction between Normans and Anglo Saxons that was new and strange to me. However, I remember that one of the first stops made by Sir Wilfred of Ivanhoe was in Toledo to buy Toledo steel. This fictional event supposedly happened in the 12th century, and in Toledo, I saw a city that still presented some of the elements that Sir Wilfred would have seen had he not been a fictional character. 

The streets are all narrow in typical medieval style and we had to hear the car frantically beep until we made it to our hotel. The hotel was a 1388 structure, and we parked the car in a building that was a stable for centuries. I made a visit to the rooftop before heading out and after seeing the view of the old Toledo, I compulsively took photos, some of them I have shared below. After I realized that there is just no reason to click anymore, we finally went to tour the city.

The city showed Roman, Visigothic, and Mudejar style architecture, which made its streets particularly romantic and melancholic. It was only the occasional electric circuit box, AC unit, or car that reminded one about the 21st century. Otherwise, we were walking in the steps of the Jews, Muslims, and Christians who roamed these streets for centuries. The first night was spent walking the streets, taking photos of the exterior of the cathedral, and walking to the river that once surrounded the city to take more photos. The three Abrahamic religions lived in moderate peace in Toledo until the expulsion of Jews in 1492. As a result, the next rational stop would be the Jewish quarter and the synagogue of Del Transito, followed by a visit to the Toledo Cathedral, which we saved for the second day in Toledo.

There were two international graduate students who became close friends and made a pact to go around Spain together one day. That was 2005 and the trip happened 17 years later. Madrid was just a short stop and our destinations were Toledo, Cordoba, and Granada. However, we had enough time to stop by Calle del León and its great Spanish restaurants. It feels wrong to start the Spain stories with food, but I was so impressed with Iberian food that I can forgive my minor misstep. It was not my first time in Spain, I have had very close friends from Spain, and have been exposed to the food for at least 15 years – whether through paella and sangria gatherings with friends or Jose Andres. However, this trip changed my view of Spanish food significantly. I started dabbling in gourmet cooking with the start of COVID and the ability of Spanish chefs to so gorgeously change the taste by adding common ingredients such as olive oil, tomatoes, and a little bit of spices absolutely amazed me. The burrata salad that I had and the jarrete de cordero (lamb shank) were out of this world. Note that burrata is an Italian cheese but the added spices had changed it into an unbelievable salad. There are various cook books focused on Spanish cooking and they will be my fun side book for the next couple of years.

The breakfast equally amazed me. It was my first introduction to jamón serrano and the traditional Spanish breakfast of toast, chopped tomatoes, and jamon. One fact about Spain that was true about all the cities I visited, was the abundance of small breakfast places that gave you the traditional breakfast along with cafe con leche and orange juice for a very reasonable price.

The next stop in Madrid was the Santiago Bernabéu soccer stadium and seeing the museum put together for the Galácticos. Real Madrid has had this old tradition of hiring world class superstars. While the term Galáctico was coined for these stars in 2000, the tradition starts with Alfredo Di Stéfano, Francisco Gento, and Ferenc Puskás in the 50s. It was a personal visit as my father repeated these names to himself as a teenage soccer player in the making in the 50s, and this is the main reason that even though there were more historical Galácticos, I kept the names to the three I have noted here. With this policy, the club won six European championships in the 50s and 60s, and seven more in the past 25 years, making them the most successful European club. In addition to the trophies, the club has kept some of the ballon d’ors and personal shoes of the players, which was nice to see.

After the visit to Santiago Bernabéu, we left for Toledo, but of course, we had to stop for some more food. I will not praise the Iberian food more than I did above, but the photo is self-explanatory.