If Lorca was born in a U.S. city, you probably already have their theme park. In the ravine Víznar would have built hotels, reception centers for visitors and almost certainly the odd mobile hamburger stand. Good we got rid. Always wanted to go to Víznar, and last August we were lucky that a friend who lives in Granada and knows its boundaries, we approached in his car. In the midst of a scorching sun, the ravine is briefly stated and must leave the car as possible with the minimum side of the road. After a short way along a path, we reach the famous cemetery where a symbolic grave-true, surely never know where she recalls the poet. Further to the right, a series of plates of various associations remind various acts of homage to his memory. In the solitude of the place, the silence overwhelms and you stop to think about the ephemeral nature of all, the obtuseness of the ideas that seem entrenched forever.
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