Photograph: Sergi Reboredo/Alamy
As I turned the corner on a narrow, cobbled street in Granada, I felt as if I had stumbled upon a slightly sinister re-enactment society. Mysterious men dressed in white robes and tall, conical, face-covering hats with slits for their eyes were followed by women in black dresses and mantillas, holding pillar candles and crosses, then children wearing caped cloaks, carrying baskets of prayer cards.
It was indeed a re-enactment of sorts, but deeply rooted in Catholicism, representing the Passion of Christ, staged during Holy Week (Semana Santa), which runs from 29 March to 5 April this year. Easter processions are held across the country, but this Andalucían city hosts one of the most authentic in Spain.
Unlike more celebratory parades, these are sombre affairs, as each of the 32 brotherhoods weaves its way through the streets with enormous floats (pasos) hoisted on the shoulders of scores of men (costaleros) who spend months preparing for this herculean task – a coveted role, often passed down from father to son. To rehearse, they carry heavy wooden tables through the streets after dark, which is a startling sight when you come across a team in training.
On the floats are larger-than-life figures of a weeping Virgin Mary and Christ on the cross, as well as precious icons normally sequestered in chapels. The bearers are hidden underneath, surrounded by velvet drapes, so all that is visible is their white-soled feet as they inch their way along. Every so often, a cheer rises from the spectators, when a difficult manoeuvre has been managed.
Palm Sunday marks the first of eight days of processions, Good Friday being the busiest with six events throughout the city, but – having visited many times in an attempt to improve my Spanish – my personal favourites are on Maundy Thursday in the Albaicín, the Moorish quarter of the city. At San Miguel Bajo church at 5pm, the brotherhood of Aurora emerges to commence its seven-hour slow march with soulful renditions of saetas – flamenco-style religious songs – and then a brass band accompanies the statues as they pass by. Then, at midnight, the Cristo del Silencio procession moves in silence, guided by candlelight, the only sound a repeating muffled drum with Christ on the cross borne aloft by penitents in black cloaks. I have yet to stay awake until 4am for the finale at Granada cathedral.
Whether or not you come to Granada at Easter to witness the processions, it’s a great time to visit, with the weather warming up and the streets coming alive. At the foot of the Sierra Nevada mountains – popular with skiers, cyclists and walkers – it’s my favourite city in Spain, with elegant architecture, lush gardens and varied cuisine. I can get pleasantly lost for hours in the meandering streets of the Albaicín, then walk down the steep slope to Plaza Nueva, great for people-watching, and on to the tree-lined boulevard by the Genil River, lingering at the art nouveau restaurant Las Titas (The Aunties). It’s a strenuous walk (or easy bus ride) up to Sacromonte, past the Roma caves museum, with magnificent views over the Alhambra (the Islamic palace and citadel, which is a Unesco world heritage site) and the entire city your reward.
The sociable Spanish eat outside in all weathers. At Easter, special foods include almond-based pastries such as piononos de Santa Fe – thin, rolled sponge cakes soaked in syrup, topped with toasted cream representing the Pope’s crown – and torta real de Motril, from a 150-year-old recipe of almonds, egg white and a shiny sugar crust, both sold in cafes and bakeries (panaderías) across town. You can also buy homemade pastries at some convents – look for the sign Venta de dulces. A savoury dish you will spot on Easter menus around the city is potaje de vigilia, a stew of cod, chickpeas and spinach.
But food here is special at any time of year – with plenty of meat-free choices too. Something to celebrate is the free tapa (often quite generous) with every drink from the bar, and drinks are cheap, at about €3 for a glass of wine or beer. A tapas crawl may take in La Goma in Calle Gracia, Bar Poë in Calle Verónica de la Magdelena and Tocateja in Calle Trinidad.
The menú del día at restaurants is great value – three courses for about €15, served on weekdays – followed by siesta time when shops close from 2pm to 5pm (except in the city centre), then open again, often until 10pm. For indoor eating, my latest discovery is the popular Mezze in Calle Laurel de las Tablas, opened last year by two British entrepreneurs and an Argentine chef. It serves eastern Mediterranean dishes, my choice being aubergine “meatballs”, stuffed artichokes and tempura mushrooms.
After that, you may fancy some flamenco, and there is no shortage of high-standard establishments. Jardines de Zoraya in Calle Panaderos is my favourite. What makes it extra special is the optional dinner you can order beforehand (show €25; dinner €32). I also love El Tabanco del tio Gregorio, a small flamenco club in Cuesta de San Gregorio (Friday and Saturday, €15).
Back on a religious theme, Granada has a host of ecclesiastical sites that are worth visiting. Many are built on the site of former mosques, including the Renaissance cathedral containing the lead coffins of the zealous Christian monarchs Isabella and Ferdinand (who notoriously expelled the Muslims and Jews in 1492), their daughter Joanna the Mad and her husband, Philip the Handsome. A short bus ride takes you to the Cartuja monastery, an over-the-top baroque monument with a picture gallery of sacred scenes and a secluded cloister garden planted with orange trees and aromatic plants.
The Easter Saturday procession starts from the Alhambra, and what could be a better backdrop? This magnificent monument attracts millions of visitors annually, so you need to book well in advance, but don’t be fleeced by the many “official” sites. Book via tickets.alhambra-patronato.es and pay €22.27. It’s free to walk up to the grounds and through the gardens ,though – a pleasant early evening stroll to avoid the crowds.
Convento de San Gregorio Bético (actually a church), next to an Arab souk, was reputedly once a wine warehouse and then a brothel. At noon each day, nuns gather to sing praises. As I sat listening behind the choir screen, it took me back to when I saved up pocket money to buy my first record in 1963: Dominique by The Singing Nun (6s 8d).
After a long day in this very walkable city, it’s sheer bliss to unwind at a hammam, my choice being Al Ándalus in Calle Santa Ana, where you can sip herbal tea between dips in hot, cold and steam baths. It’s another ancient custom the granadinos have kept alive.
