Overlooking the city of Granada, Sacromonte is a diverse community unlike any other in Western Europe. It is made up largely of gitinos or Spanish gypsies, other families who have lived there for generations, as well as African migrants in search of a better life. It is also a destination for some seeking a more humble, off-the-grid lifestyle, away from the influences of modern society.
What makes Sacramonte especially unique is the caves. Over centuries, people have dug their homes into the hillside and lived off the surrounding land. Some caves have been decorated inside and out in the style of the beautiful houses of Albaicín, the ancient Muslim district in the city below. Others are more neglected, and more closely resemble shacks in a shanty town than long term homes. The result appears to be a more ramshackle version of the Shire from Lord of the Rings, and the effect is both charming and very surreal.
To get to Sacromonte, I first had to walk through Albaicín. The difference between the two communities was starkly apparent. Where Albaicín was a maze of cobbled streets, whitewashed houses and archaic monasteries, Sacramonte was a tangle of dirt tracks which ran steeply uphill through cacti and dry, yellow grass. The caves had been dug along the dusty pathways. Surrounding the caves were a patchwork of small vegetable farms, animal pens, wells, and chimneys.
As my group passed, the occupants of the caves looked at us uninterestedly. I thought that they must have seen thousands of tourists tramping through their community just to stare unashamedly at their homes and the way they lived. It was certainly fascinating to me how a functional community without electricity or running water could exist in Europe today.
Most of the locals were going about their daily lives regardless. There was a group of Rastafarians singing and playing the guitar, and smoking the sacrament of their faith. There were hippies who must have relished the simplicity of the place. Others looked more like native Spaniards, and had put lots of effort into building their homes. Their caves hade white walls and lush, well-tended gardens, and were like oases of order in their more shabby surroundings. I saw them tending to their vegetable gardens, hanging out laundry, sitting around chatting, and chastising their children as they ran around shouting and playing. It seemed that a lot of the people here were very content.
Though for all the contentment, it wasn’t hard to see the poverty that existed. Where a good proportion of the inhabitants of Sacromonte chose to move there for live a simpler life, there were many who didn’t seem to have a choice. In some of the more dilapidated looking caves lived migrants and otherwise homeless locals. With the edge of Africa situated just 130 miles to the south of Granada, it has in recent months come to be the home of large numbers of sub-Saharan migrants. To them, Sacromonte must be a foothold from which they hope to build more fulfilling lives for themselves later on.
After a short, steep uphill walk, we came to the crumbling church of San Miguel el Alto, which stood at the top of the hill. The view from the top was strange and beautiful; the ramshackle arrangement on the hill contrasted drastically with the ancient, gleaming white buildings of Albaicín, and the commercialised city centre beyond, where the city’s colossal cathedral dominated the skyline. Most striking was the view of the famous palace of the Alhambra, its red walls and broad towers the very definition of imposing. The whole scene was framed by the peaks of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in the distance.
On the other side of the hill lived the gitino community of Granada. Their part of Sacromonte looked more developed, with paved streets and more well-established houses built alongside the caves. The music of the gypsies could be heard from the top of the hill. I heard a woman chanting in a style that sounded distinctly Indian or Arabic in influence – the gypsies migrated to Europe from that region over a millennium ago. Her voice was powerful and turbulent – it made Sacromonte seem more foreign to me than anything I had encountered previously. Elsewhere someone played a classical guitar, the notes creating a much more relaxed and lazy vibe than the singing.
Much of the culture associated with Spain originated in gitino communities like Sacromonte. Flamenco dancing and lively music has been performed in the caves for centuries, and has been gradually developed into the traditions which Spain is famous for today. I was disappointed not to see any dancing for myself.
Coming down through the village, I heard the sound of a parade. When I first heard the brass band in the distance, I expected them to be playing some kind of gypsy ballad passed down over generations. However, on closer inspection, it turned out to be an upbeat rendition of the Village People’s YMCA. Where I imagined the participants to be dressed in traditional gypsy robes, their leader seemed to be overweight man dressed in an immodest bee costume, with chickens, fairies, and cats also making an appearance. Clearly, the gypsies were throwing the parade for their own entertainment, not to impress any tourists. The parade led us back to the edge of Albaicín, and I left Sacromonte behind.
I wasn’t surprised to learn that Sacromonte is under threat. With some of the best views of Granada, property developers are now eager to demolish the caves to build high-end houses and hotels. Since very few of the caves are legally recognised by the city, and the gitinos are almost universally disliked and marginalised, it looks like the developers could soon get their way. Having visited Sacromonte, I believe that losing it would be a huge loss not just to Granada, but to the diverse and unusual culture it has created and preserved over many years. For now, it overlooks the city of Granada as a monument to humility, its future uncertain.