When I first saw the Alhambra, I was awed by its immensity. It is huge and imposing, watching over Granada like a drowsy giant.

Then I was drawn into its history. It was built as a fortress for the Nasrid Dynasty in the 14th century. This dynasty was steadily being forced out of Spain and sure enough, by the end of the 15th century, the Red Fortress, as its was originally named, came under Christian rule.

What really got me, though, was the sublime beauty of the Islamic design.

Bafflingly complicated tile-work dazzles like ancient disco lights. Impossibly intricate calligraphy proclaims the glory of God. Arched doorways and corners are lined in organic shapes and swirls that call to mind stalactites and icicles and lava flows. And that is just the first couple of rooms.

The tile-work is not random. It turns out that much medieval Islamic design has its heart in rather complex mathematical patterns. These patterns have only recently been "discovered" by modern mathematicians. I'm talking about incredibly sophisticated stuff, with terms like "quasicrystalline structures". You can read all about it in a terrific article here. And while the tile-work at the Alhambra is not the most complex example of this kind of design (there are others in Iran and Uzbekistan), it gives you a beautiful glimpse of what was being accomplished by artisans and designers that most of us in the west have never heard of.

As for the calligraphy - in Islam, figurative art (depictions of people, and especially sculptures of people and or animals) was forbidden. Around the 7th century AD calligraphy was developed in the place of figurative art so that words, particularly those used to profess faith, could be used as expressions of beauty. The art of calligraphy was then refined over centuries (another good article on the subject here), and it adorns the walls of the Alhambra in breathtaking ways.

We wandered from room to room, jaws agape. I took hundreds of pictures, most of which were crap and none of which truly captured the beauty of it all. But I managed a few that I like. Like this one...

And wait! I haven't even mentioned the gardens, which are lush and green and immense. Another marvel of this place - water is very scarce in this area but the grounds of the Alhambra are laced with all manner of canal and pipe and fountain. The builders of this ancient Arabic dynasty also knew a thing or two about irrigation, and their genius keeps this place wet and fertile to this day.

The Alhambra is one of Europe's most popular sites, and each room was quite crowded. But if you wait a little while there is a quiet moment after one crowd shuffles out and before the next shuffles in. During that time you can almost, and I mean almost, feel like you lived there - or used to, hundreds of years ago.

There was one magical spot where I felt this the strongest. I was on a walkway overlooking a courtyard, during a lull between crowds. Compared to the dazzling walls and over-the-top ceilings of the building and the carefully manicured splendor of the gardens, this little courtyard was really rather simple, plain even. I fell in love with it. The unadorned fountain in the middle, the four old trees and the stone floor laced by an inter-locking pattern all appealed to me instantly.

I took a picture of this courtyard and I look at it often. Every time I do I am reminded of the moment when this was, indeed, my palace.