Wild Castles (2017–…): Season 1, Episode 4 - Alhambra: The Oasis in the Desert - full transcript

In the
sun-baked South of Spain,

between Europe's only desert

and the snow-capped
Sierra Nevada mountains...

...lies a man-made
Garden of Eden,

a spectacular palace perched
above an emerald forest.

This is a castle not just
of gold and marble...

...but of life and water.

A temple to nature's beauty,

and a place where
animals find refuge...

...and fight for survival.

Here, water pulses
like blood in the veins,



and the stone walls
project permanence and power.

This is a fortress filled
with knowledge and art,

a place where human history and
the natural world meld into one.

This is the Alhambra.

WILD CASTLES - SEASON 1
EP - 4 - Alhambra: The Oasis in the Desert

The castle of Alhambra rises
above the plains of Andaluc?a

on the Iberian Peninsula,

a luxurious haven
that has endured for centuries.

They call it "The Red One",

its walls hewn from
the red clay on which it sits.

The Moors
- Muslims from North Africa -

built this magnificent hilltop
fortress in the 13th Century...

...after conquering
the region in 711 AD.

It was a beacon
of strength and power,



a fertile jewel in
an otherwise barren expanse.

This is an arid
and dramatic landscape...

...wedged between the
Mediterranean and the Atlantic.

Water is precious here,

and when the Moors
built Alhambra,

they celebrated it.

They brought to life
descriptions of Eden

from the Quran,

creating a lush
and fertile paradise.

Rich garden ponds and fountains
transform the hilltop palace

into a life-giving retreat.

The wildlife of the region
has taken full advantage.

The Iberian Bluetail dragonfly
is queen of these ponds.

With her multifaceted eyes,

she can perceive even
the slightest movements.

She sees the world
in vivid slow motion.

The action around her
appears three times slower

than it actually is.

Her two sets of wings
operate independently,

allowing her
to maneuver effortlessly.

A single dragonfly can devour
hundreds of insects a day,

making her a welcome resident
of the castle.

She's not alone.

Dozens of other species
of dragonfly and damselfly

call the lush
castle grounds home.

They're prolific breeders,

though their anatomy makes
for an unusual mating ritual.

First, the male on top
uses an appendage

at the end of his abdomen to
grasp the female by the neck.

Then she curls her abdomen under
him to align their sex organs.

Hers are at the tip
of her abdomen.

His are closer
to the base of his body.

The result is an awkward
heart-shaped mating wheel

that is unique
in the animal kingdom.

After mating is complete,

the female deposits her eggs
in the water

while the male maintains
his grip on her neck,

just to make sure
no other male sneaks in

to mate with her after him.

A nearby toad has
his own amorous intentions.

He drapes himself on the back
of a much larger female.

Then hangs on for dear life.

Where the damselflies rely
on finesse and contortion,

the toads opt
for bear hugs and spooning.

The maneuvering
is less graceful,

but the result is the same.

When the mating's done,

the fertilized eggs
are deposited

into the Alhambra ponds like
silky strings of dark pearls.

Over the next few weeks,

the eggs divide
and slowly transform.

Alhambra too has transformed
over the centuries...

...from a small
Muslim stronghold

built on Roman ruins
in the 8th century

to an imposing
and beautiful fortress

that provided protection
for humans and animals alike.

Moorish poets described it
as "a pearl set in emeralds."

In the sheltered castle ponds,
the dividing toad pearls

eventually become clusters
of sluggish proto-tadpoles.

Still unable to swim,

they hide under vegetation
near the surface as they grow.

The ponds are a perfect nursery,

and they develop quickly
into plump, mobile tadpoles.

The dragonfly eggs
are hatching as well,

and the sinister-looking
larvae are eager for action.

Known as nymphs,
they lack wings,

and breathe by pumping water
in and out of their abdomen

and over their internal gills.

The resulting water jets
also work like an afterburner,

for quick acceleration.

The nymph initially
sits motionless

as a tadpole wanders by.

But he won't let
the potential meal get away.

Like a leopard, he stalks,

blending into his surroundings.

His kill shot
is quick and lethal,

a flick of his powerful,
extendable lower jaw.

Caught in the nymph's
vice-like grip,

the tadpole is helpless
as it's eaten alive.

These seemingly tranquil waters

belie the battles
that go on within them,

and the constant struggle
for dominance among predators.

It doesn't take long
for hunter to become hunted.

Observing the hungry nymph

is an even stranger and more
deadly creature:

a water stick,

which hides in plain sight
by masquerading as a twig.

The water stick
is an air breather

that uses a long tube

that extends up from
its abdomen like a snorkel.

It watches quietly as the
nymph polishes off the tadpole.

Then, belly full,

it heads straight into
the water stick's target zone.

With a reflexive snap of
its spring-loaded front legs,

recent diner
becomes reluctant dinner.

The water stick stabs
the nymph with its beak,

injecting toxic saliva
that liquefies its insides.

Such is the natural pecking
order of predator and prey.

That same
power hierarchy existed

with the human inhabitants
of the castle as well.

In its prime,
the fortress housed soldiers

and court officials.

But the most
spectacular structures

were reserved for the rulers
and their families.

These stunning masterpieces
were commissioned

in the mid-13th century
by the Moorish ruler,

Mohammed ibn Al-Ahmar.

Prohibited by Muslim law
from creating images of Allah,

he instead embraced
repeating geometric patterns

and decorative calligraphy.

It was Moorish Arabesque
design at its zenith.

Nature was ever-present
and embraced.

Alhambra's architects took
inspiration from the Quran.

It depicts the Garden of Eden

as a peaceful place
for humans and animals.

The Moors wanted Alhambra
to be that Eden,

symbolically,
but in real life, as well.

The gardens were lush
and peaceful.

Central to their design

were representations
of Eden's four rivers,

as described in the Quran.

Here they're man-made,
but tranquil nonetheless.

Alhambra sits on the mountain
called Sabika,

which rises above
the city of Granada.

From here, the Moors ruled
over their Iberian Kingdom.

The shaded galleries and
watered gardens of the castle

provided respite from
the stifling Andalusian heat.

Residents outside the walls

must find other ways
to stay cool.

A female scorpion
shelters underground

in the heat of the day.

She normally hunts
in the cool of the night,

but at the moment,
she's got other concerns.

Scorpions give birth
to live young,

and her hundred or so babies

climb onto her back
for safekeeping.

She'll protect them there
for 10 to 20 days,

until their exoskeletons harden.

Unless times are tough,
in which case, she'll eat them.

Another of the desert locals

is the deceptive
Iberian worm lizard.

It looks like a worm with
its blunt head and ringed body,

but it's actually a reptile,

a lizard with eyes,
lungs, a spinal cord,

and a set of tiny
sharp teeth, but no legs.

It eats insects and larvae,
but out here

it has its own predators
to be wary of.

The false smooth
snake is a small,

venomous lizard-hunter.

It uses its keen sense of smell

to locate prey
in the craggy rocks.

The snake usually stays
above ground,

but it's caught wind
of the worm lizard.

The lizard retreats
into its narrow tunnel,

using chemical markers
to find its way around.

Deeper they go.

But the snake is perhaps
a little too well-fed,

and his girth stops him up.

It's a narrow escape
for the lucky lizard.

Outmaneuvered underground,

the snake regroups
in the warm sun...

...waiting for
easier prey to wander by.

The serpent blends
into the terrain...

...just like Alhambra
blends into the rock

that forms its foundation.

The red bricks
in the unadorned walls

were made from
the iron-rich earth...

...and the castle
perches on Sabika

as if it was carved
from the mountain itself.

It's one of the ways the Moors
embraced the nature around them.

That commitment carries
through to the inside as well.

The buildings
of Alhambra showcase

exquisitely-detailed artwork

that is grounded
in symmetry and mathematics,

yet seems uncannily organic.

A poem on the walls describes:

"A palace of grandest beauty
and perfection...

...with embroideries similar
to the flowers of the garden."

The designs were not intended
to be ultra-realistic,

but the Moors intentionally
pulled from the patterns,

the shapes, the color pallets,

and even the textures
of the natural world.

The flora and fauna helped
breathe life into the castle,

connecting nature and man-made,
inside and out.

In the gardens,

the tadpoles have transformed
into tiny toads,

and are preparing to leave
the ponds in search of food.

But the pond walls are
as steep and forbidding

as those of the red cliffs
on which the castle sits.

Persistence eventually pays off.

The toads will spend
the rest of their lives on land.

Many stay in the gardens.

Others escape the castle

through tiny gaps in the walls.

A dragonfly nymph is undergoing

an even greater transformation
than the toads.

Attached to a reed
above the water,

it starts breathing air
and pumping its body up.

The nymph's exoskeleton
has provided sturdy armor,

but is now a straightjacket
that must be shed.

Slowly, the adult dragonfly
emerges, soft and fragile.

Its wings begin to unfurl as it
pumps fluid into tiny vessels.

The abdomen elongates.

If any of these steps
are interrupted mid-molt,

the dragonfly will die.

Finally, after about 3 hours,
it's done.

The dragonfly leaves
the tiny husk

of its former self behind
and spreads its wings.

The adult will only live
for a few weeks,

enough time to breed,

and then the cycle
will begin again

in the life-giving waters
of Alhambra.

The ponds and fountains
are integral

to the aesthetic
wonders of the palace.

It's no accident that
the reflections in the water

add beauty and calm.

But bringing water to
the castle was no easy feat.

The plateau of Sabika rises

more than 150 feet
above the city.

The city lies within one of
the most arid regions in Spain.

But the Moors had learned
from the Romans.

They built a series
of raised aqueducts

that fed into the castle.

The aqueducts
channel water more than

4 miles from the Rio Darro,

which is itself fed by snowmelt

from the Sierra Nevada
mountains.

The majestic Sierra Nevada,

where barren hillsides

become forests

that give way
to snow-capped peaks.

Above the peaks,
a Eurasian griffon soars,

riding thermals
as it scans for food.

Iberian ibex dot
the hillside below.

But the vulture
is a scavenger, not a hunter.

It uses its acute eyesight

to spot any creature
that's fallen ill or died.

Ibex were hunted
almost to extinction

in Spain and Portugal
in the 19th century.

But here in the Sierra Nevada,
the species has persevered.

- The ibex are skittish.
- When anxious, they follow

a mature member of the herd,
who knows which slopes

provide the best protection.

The griffons keep
one eye to the ground,

but they're also watching
each other.

When one spots the remains
of a dead ibex,

they all swoop in
to vie for the meal.

They can pick a carcass clean

with their sharp beaks
and powerful talons.

Birds will fight
for the juiciest morsels

and defend their prime
positions on the corpse.

It's tiring work,

and after a hearty tussle
and a good meal,

the griffons hit the showers

to wash the blood and dust
from their wings.

The Spanish sun dries them
in a heartbeat.

Then, with bellies full,
it's time for a siesta.

That's just what
the other scavengers

have been waiting for.

The foxes are too timid
- and clever -

to challenge
the griffons head-on.

But they're quick
to scamper over

for some fast food
when no one is looking.

Crows, too, sneak in for a bite.

But as with all things
in nature,

there's a hierarchy
to scavenging,

and the final arrivals scare
the smaller petty thieves away.

Bearded vultures eat almost
nothing but bone marrow.

Like the griffons,
they're aggressive.

They'll fight vigorously
over the best cuts.

The dark-headed juveniles

aren't intimidated
by the larger adults.

But when a young gun
grabs a nice bone,

he weighs the competition
and decides he's better off

taking this meal to go.

The bearded vultures' beaks are
strong enough to crack bones,

and they've learned a trick
for cracking the toughest.

They drop them from great
height and shatter them

on the rocks to get
to the marrow inside.

Between them, the scavengers
of the Sierra Nevada

make sure nothing goes to waste.

Higher up in the mountains,

even the vultures
can't find food.

At over 2 miles above sea level,

the only thing here
is snow and ice.

But this is not just any ice.

These sparkling crystals

become the water
that brings Alhambra to life.

The lush gardens
and rich wildlife

would not be possible
without the mountains nearby.

The aqueducts carry it here,

but that's only part
of the challenge.

Within the walls of the castle,

the Moors used their
engineering prowess to create

the complex system of waterways
that fed the ponds and gardens.

It was a perpetual flow,
and to this day

the castle and the peaks
of the Sierra Nevada

are connected
by the water they share.

On the far side
of the mountains,

little rain falls.

This is Europe's only desert...

...Tabernas.

The parched earth
and desiccated plants

leave no question
about the harsh reality

of life without water.

One creature that does
manage to survive here

is the darkling beetle,
a hard-shelled omnivore

that feeds on fresh
and decaying plants,

dead insects, and fungi.

It can live for up to 10 years
without ever taking a drink,

extracting all the moisture
it needs from its food.

When threatened,
the darkling raises its rear

and emits
a foul-smelling compound

to discourage
would-be predators...

...predators like
the praying mantis.

The mantis is
a well-camouflaged killer.

She moves slowly, and only
to find a better vantage point

from which to wait for prey.

But when a potential meal
wanders within reach,

she's lightning fast.

As she digs in,
a male mantis watches closely.

He's looking for a mate,

but has to time
his advance carefully.

If he approaches before
she's eaten her fill,

he'll become lunch too.

He's a fraction of her size.

Cautiously, he climbs aboard
and gets down to business.

While the action
takes place down below,

he keeps his eyes
locked on her face...

...for good reason,

female mantises
are notoriously hostile,

even to their mates.

Her partner makes
an excellent post-coital snack.

After some initial nibbling,

she bites him clean in half,

the ultimate sacrifice for his
future offspring in the desert.

Coming from
the deserts of Africa,

the Moors were unfazed
by the harsh landscape

and arid climate of Andaluc?a.

They adapted well
to their Spanish surroundings,

but found plenty of room
for improvement.

Building on thousands
of years of Muslim learning,

they used their vast
understanding of science

to revolutionize the region.

After the Dark Ages,
it was the Muslims

who resurrected
the knowledge of the Greeks,

and then expanded on it.

They brought the art
of paper making to Europe.

They studied
the laws of physics...

...created new fields
of mathematics.

They pioneered
advances in medicine.

The Muslims expanded
the science of optics...

...and mastered cartography...

...using instruments like
the compass and the astrolabe...

...which measured the angle
from the North Star

to the horizon...

...to chart amazingly
accurate ocean maps.

The Moors put their
scientific knowledge

to particularly good use
here in Southern Spain.

They used trigonometry
and algebra,

both Arab inventions,
to revolutionize land surveying.

They built complex
irrigation channels,

adopting existing technologies

and inventing new ones to
collect, store and lift water.

They used fertilizers
and pest control,

and grafting to create
new varieties of fruit trees.

According to
at least one scholar,

the Moors' agricultural system
was "the most complex,

the most scientific,
the most perfect,

ever devised
by the ingenuity of man."

As they transformed
the landscape around Alhambra,

the Moors also created new
habitats for the local wildlife.

The spur-thighed tortoise,
also known as the Moor tortoise,

was one of the beneficiaries.

It can survive in areas
of sparse vegetation,

where it browses on grass
and other plants,

but it happily adapted
to the more succulent offerings

cultivated by the Moors.

Hoopoes, too, found Moor
agriculture to their liking.

These striking crested birds

gravitate to open fields
where they can dig for insects.

The Moors ploughed
plenty of those.

In other parts of the world,
the Hoopoes migrate,

but here, they stay put
all year round,

building nests into walls
surrounding the fields.

Both parents are responsible
for feeding the young.

They're warmly greeted
by the hungry chicks.

But if an intruder approaches,

it'll be hit by a carefully
aimed stream of feces.

The hoopoes are monogamous
for each breeding season

and, thanks to the Moors,
the region is so fertile

they may even produce
multiple broods in a year.

The birds, with their
distinctive crests and graceful,

swooping flight patterns,

were highly regarded
by the Moors.

They're even mentioned
in the Quran

as saviors of Moses and
confidants of King Solomon.

To this day, they thrive
in the fields around Alhambra.

The hoopoes flourished
under the Moors,

but from the moment
the Muslim invaders

seized control of Spain,
the Christians fought back.

Battles raged on and off
for hundreds of years,

a period known
as the "Reconquista."

By the 15th century,
the conflict was in full force.

The Spanish pushed down
from the north.

By 1469, Granada,

watched over by the
fortified Alhambra castle,

was the last remaining Muslim
stronghold in all of Europe.

The castle was well-defended...

...but the Moors
were effectively captives

within their own city.

The sun was setting on
the Muslim empire in Europe.

The Moors weren't the only
African invaders under threat.

The North African hedgehog
arrived millennia before them.

It too favors
the gardens of Alhambra

over the surrounding desert.

Smaller than
the European hedgehog,

it's a generalist,
foraging at night

and feeding on any
small animals it can find,

as well as on seeds,
nuts, and fungus.

But it's also quite tender
under its quills,

and would make a tasty meal
for a lucky genet.

Genets have a keen
sense of smell.

This one is following its nose,

trying to find the small
hedgehog in the rocks.

But the hedgehog has a trick.

The tight ball
offers only sharp quills

to the would-be assailant.

There's nothing appealing
about a mouthful of quills,

so the genet heads off
to look for less prickly prey.

With the threat gone,
the hedgehog gets back to work.

She's hunting herself,

in need of a quick meal
so she can return to her nest.

She's a new mother,

with a hungry baby
waiting to suckle.

She's not as timid as she looks,

quite capable of taking
down a plump scorpion.

The scorpion tracks her
with its eight beady eyes...

...its vicious stinger poised.

But she has some built-in
immunity to its venom

and she's clever,
going straight for the weapon.

The arachnid has no chance
once she grabs it by the tail.

Sated, she hustles
back to her nest,

just near the castle walls.

Her baby - called a hoglet -
is just a few days old.

It was born blind and helpless.

Its spines are soft
and hair-like at first.

They only start to harden
after a week or two.

The hoglet will nurse
for about six weeks

before going off on its own.

At about ten weeks,

it'll undergo a process
called quilling,

losing its baby quills and
growing adult ones like its mom.

While the African hedgehog
still thrives in Andaluc?a,

the Moors' time was almost up.

By the late 1400s,

the only things keeping them
from complete annihilation

at the hands of the Christians
were the castle fortifications.

The red fortress
was the final holdout

for the Muslims in Europe.

While the Christians
had been forming alliances

and consolidating their power,
the Moors in Granada

had become ever-more isolated.

There was no help coming
from other Muslim kingdoms.

On the hillside
beneath the castle,

other loners fight for survival.

The Mediterranean
banded centipede

is one of the smaller
species of centipede,

and its venom
is not the most toxic.

But it's an
opportunistic carnivore,

and will aggressively attack
any animal it can eat

or feels threatened by.

That includes members
of its own species.

The two engage
in an epic battle.

Each trying to gain access

to the soft underbelly
of the other.

The fight is not about food.

It's about direct competition,
kill or be killed.

The centipedes wield
their pincer-like forcipules

like hypodermic needles,

each trying to stab
the other with deadly poison.

Finally, a direct hit.

The venom acts quickly.

The victor won't eat his rival,
it's too big.

But there is now one less
competitor on the forest floor.

Nearby, a Spanish funnel web
spider lies in wait.

The centipede initially
rushes right past...

...then comes scurrying back
to investigate

whether the arachnid
would make a nice meal.

The spider, one of the largest
and fiercest-looking in Europe,

has other ideas.

She misses, but the attack
sends him scurrying.

The spider doesn't follow.

The centipede is less of a meal
than a potential home wrecker.

The quicker he's gone,
the better.

Her webbed nest
is an intricate one,

with a deep interior
and fine filigree

that act as climate control.

The humidity deep in the web

can be 20 to 25% higher
than outside,

and the temperature cooler.

Though she chased
off the centipede,

she sits quietly
as a grasshopper approaches.

This interloper
is definitely welcome.

She liquefies
his insides with venom,

and lets him marinate.

By 1492, Alhambra
was a tiny Muslim island

in a vast sea of Christianity.

The palace was under siege

and the walls could only
keep the Moors safe for so long.

The Moorish leader,
Muhammad the 12th,

realized that no reinforcements

were coming
from across the Mediterranean.

With no alternatives,
he negotiated a surrender.

He turned the keys of the castle

over to Queen Isabella
of Castile.

The decision
prevented the destruction

of the Muslim masterpiece,

but it also opened the door
for a new era

of Christian-inspired
construction.

Over the centuries
that followed,

whole sections were torn down,

replaced by
Renaissance-style palaces.

Below the castle
in Granada proper,

the Catholics built
a huge cathedral

on the site of the old mosque,

completing the transformation
from powerful Muslim emirate

back to Christian stronghold.

Incredibly, it was only
a few months after the surrender

that a largely unknown explorer
from Italy arrived in Granada

to ask Queen Isabella
for support.

Here at Alhambra,
he proposed a cockamamie plan

to sail west
in the hopes of finding

a new passage to India

in the name
of the Spanish crown.

Isabella gave him her blessing
and her money.

Christopher Columbus
crossed an ocean

and explored the New World,

thanks in large part
to the nautical tools,

maps, and navigation skills
perfected by the Arabs.

The Moors had gone,

but their legacy helped
pave the way to the New World,

and in Spain
has endured to this day.

For 800 years,
they ruled Andaluc?a,

leaving behind an
unrivaled architectural gem.

Despite changing empires
and religions,

Alhambra has stood proudly
on its hilltop as a testament

to the Moors' technical
ingenuity and creative flare.

They devoted themselves
to building

a Garden of Eden here on Earth,

and in so doing created
a lasting natural sanctuary

within a man-made masterpiece.