This week I made my first visit to my site in Ceuta. The outward journey illustrated just how isolated the city is, taking three forms of transport and several hours to get there from mainland Spain. Ceuta might technically be a Spanish territory, but its reality is much more estranged; the not-quite-Spain, not-quite-Morocco condition is suprisingly evident.
I was initially struck by how un-Andalusian Ceuta seemed, as I had expected the mix of European and Arabic influence which is so obvious in Cádiz, Granada and other Andalusian cities. This doesn't appear to be the case in Ceuta; in fact, there seems to be very little coherent style at all. Much of the shopping precinct is formed of rather characterless mid-rise buildings, with sidestreets comprising more jumbled scales, materials and typologies.
Upon closer inspection, however, there are details which would be familiar to any Andalusian, particularly in the treatment of thresholds. The majority of non-commercial windows have exterior metal bars and interior shutters, giving a controllable depth of privacy. Whereas back home such bars are generally utilitarian, most in Ceuta are decorative, using bright colour or intricate moulding to give each home a unique character.
Doors also present an interesting privacy study. Away from the main streets, many shops are simply converted from residential front rooms. Some have signage, but others appear to just be local knowledge. As a stranger to the city this makes it quite difficult to feel comfortable in side-streets; it is easy to imagine the alienating effect these camouflaged entrances might have on a migrant in a new city.
Navigating at a broad level is easy - the whole city can be walked twice over in a day - but becoming familiar, becoming local, seems to be an entirely different matter.