30 Aug 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, No Comments.
08/30 Granada, Spain
A good shower and I packed up for today’s trek. Our first stop was to see if we could check our bags at the train station but the area used for this service had been closed down some time ago. It was suggested that we try a hotel across the way. Typically hotel won’t check in new customer until around noon but usually will accommodate us early arrivals by watching our bags until check in rolls around. We have done this enough times to know to take advantage of this hospitality. Ann felt quite comfortable and actually expressed some curiosity as to my motives for watching the movements of the locals. Jim on the other hand couldn’t sit still for a second without questioning where we were going and when. He just couldn’t relax and let things come to him. Along the path leading up to the Alhambra there were three lovely young girls selling flowers. They approached us saying something like “God loves you, you are wise and happy”. When I explained we had no extra money they responded by yelling obscenities at us.
We saw many beautiful structures littered with courtyards and architectural splendor. There was a fire burning just off to the side that spread the pastel of orange across the setting sun. It was almost magical the way the orange played against the brown tones of the hills rolling away from us. It was like looking out onto a frozen pond. Our plan was to board the midnight train into Madrid so we sought out some music and food then hung around for the rest of day. While waiting for the train to arrive I wandered down into a tunnel that connected a few of the platforms searching for a bit of acoustics. A middle-aged man wandered up and sat down beside me. My first impression was that he was up to no good but Ann was up top watching all our possessions with the exception of the broken guitar I was making noise with. He started a conversation and seemed friendly enough to tolerate but then there was his hand between my legs. A second later it was his face that bore an expression of surprise. I think I broke his nose. There was blood everywhere.
Many times when somebody states an opinion or has a view on a subject they are misunderstood. I hope that wouldn’t be the case with my views on homosexuality. I believe in and support people loving people whether it is men loving men or women loving women, it makes no difference to me. But I also believe that in our existence lies God’s intent and that intent must revolve around the relationship between a man and woman. We are mentally, emotionally and physically different for a reason and for those reasons we both need to learn and grow from within that union. I also don’t see love and sex being one and the same. I don’t consider that a penis was created and intended for a rectum or that love and compassion need to be commingled with lust in order to be considered real. Love is safety. It seemed to me that sex is the commingling of many things including visualizations, our expectations, desires, as well as the intent to please and can be expressed for many purposes including love. The preference between oysters and snails is a matter of taste except for when it comes down to its visualization. It is the visualization that precedes it all even if only by a fraction of a second and that defines true intentions, intentions subject to morality. I don’t intend to pass judgment. I can and will accept other’s choices concerning their own affairs and to each its own. We had been all over one another and tonight’s train trip into Madrid was like bell between rounds.
