Hopeful Wanderlusting

Once upon a time
In a place not TOO far away...
From the city where my friends and I normally play

There lays a mountain range
Where multiple bridges hang, sway, and shudder
And quickly I clattered from one side to the other

We all made it across
And followed the stream...
Our single file line reenacted Snow White and the 7 Dwarfs, it seemed

Our journey was grand
We had climbed hill after hill...
To witness this magical place: Monachil.

Granada has the advantage of being located close to a mountain range named the Sierra Nevadas. You can hike and swim in the summer, after skiing all winter in the snow. It's a win-win! I'd been told, since my first day in Spain, that I just HAD to go and see the hanging bridges up in the mountains. Eight weeks passed...and I finally decided that time was running short and I needed to make the trek up with my group. (Normally, I'm not a procrastinator...I swear). We hopped on a bus one Monday afternoon, got off on the last stop, and started our hike up the mountain.
Of course, it just happened to be 100 degrees or so.

But we few, we happy few made it to our destination.

The bridge only allowed four people to cross at a time. So, I would have ALSO assumed that jumping on the bridge was a NO GO. The friends behind me disagreed. The suspension bridge was bouncing up and down like a three year old on a sugar high, while I was trying to take video and walk across...I was torn between trying to hang on for dear life and trying to get the video.

I got the video. LIKE A CHAMP.

We followed the river down the path until we came to a little clearing. The water was crystal clear and as cold as ice. I wanted to dunk my WHOLE HEAD in after standing in the heat for so long. Our group took a sit down and enjoyed listening to the rushing water/being in the shade.
I thought climbing up into the mountains was a perfect way to spend a relaxing Monday afternoon. Until we realized that we weren't going to make the bus we were trying to catch. Cue a mob of American students running down the side of the road, backpacks bouncing, and chacos thwap thwap thwaping on the pavement. I think we made a spectacle of ourselves. Some Spaniards having tapas at a sidewalk cafe were trying to cheer on our efforts.

Their support must have helped. We made the bus JUST in time. And as our sweaty mess of a group piled in to the back of the bus, we all smiled in contentment. WHAT a fabulous dose of adventure.