A few years ago, Bill Clinton went back to the ex-Moorish stronghold of Granada, stating that of all the places he visited on a tour of Europe as a young man (before his politics days), Granada was the one place that really stuck out in his memory. My first visit there was at the age of 18. I had been working out near Almeria for a company called Sunseed, it was my first time abroad, on my own, and was my summer treat before starting university. (I have decided to leave the gap year until i finish university, hoping that by then i will be a little older, a little wiser).

When I arrived in Granada, I was virtually penniless, I had not really eaten much in the past two days other than some old ham I found in my bag, and a bag of crisps. I arrived, my backpack on my back, the scorching mid-day sun belting down on my poor pasty body. I trudged from place to place with but a few Euros to spare for the night, feeling lost, inexperienced, and completely and utterly ill-prepared. It was then that I found a flyer for a hostel, down on a pedestrianised stretch of quaint cobble street, set alongside a tiny brook in a sorry state at the foot of the mighty Alhambra complex.

The flyer advertised 'The Rambutan', offering cheap bunk beds for travellers and set in the Albaicin district. The name sold it to me though (I'm rather too impulsive like that), so I followed the rudimentary map up a twisting flight of steps, that led me up a hill opposite the glorious Alhambra. I climbed until I was at eyeline with this remarkably well preserved bastion, the water all but depleted from my body, sacrificed to the unwavering sun.

A modest front, with wrought-iron gates, green vines and shrubs poking through into the narrow path outside, I questioned whether I had found the right spot, but was immediately greeted and welcomed inside. I must have looked a complete state, because the first thing offered to me were water and a shower.

Run by a team of travellers who are given a free bed in return for working there, I was told that there was one bed left, but that it would cost me 9 euros. I didn't have this much money, but was allowed to stay on the couch for a mere 4 euro.

The whole area felt like a traveller's paradise. The barrio we were in smacked of bohemianism, it was almost completely devoid of tourists and close by was the Sacramonte, originally home to the Gitanos, or gypsies, from whom the form of music known as flamenco was derived. Many of the original houses were situated in a series of caves built into the rock, and today, many still remain and are inhabited.

I could not even afford the entrance fee to the Alhambra, so walked around the verdant grounds and woodland that surrounds the massive ancient palace. I took in the atmosphere, I marvelled at the water that ran down little channels either side of the paths, and the drinking water fountains randomly spaced around the grounds. I had been in a semi-arid climate for three weeks previous, so this oasis had a greater impact on me.

Being without money really opened up a new sense of travel for me, I felt like I had lost one of my senses, and that all my other senses had been heightened. Without money, of course I could not see the main attractions, the hunger had gone by now, and so long as I drank plenty of water I felt completely fine. I decided to just walk, and in doing so discovered that Granada is a delightful city, in all parts. The Albaicin and Sacramonte still remained my favourite barrios however. The twisted maze of narrow cobblestone streets seemed to last forever, with no end to the treats thrown up.

One moment I would hear strained chords drift from an open window, and the dim snap of castanets. The next the smell of paella from the kitchen of the white houses that front the narrow streets. Glimpse a view of the shaded courtyards, decorated with elegant white and aqua blue mosaics, or hear a bubbling fountain breath life. There is a large emphasis on water in Granada, as the Moors, being from even drier lands in the North of Africa, saw it as a sign of great wealth to have an abundance of flowing water.

I flet as though I breathed Granada, I saw its Arabic section, with the beautiful tea houses and shisha bars, the Spanish heritage around the catherdral - be sure to avoid the elderly ladies who try to thrust a sprig of thyme into your hand, then read your palm and demand money. I saw one of them place a curse on a poor man who refused to pay for that which he had not asked. Although that is dependent on whether you are a skeptic or a believer of gypsy curses.

I left Granada feeling refreshed, and unlike Bill Clinton, I did not leave it almost four decades to return. I went back there only last year, with money this time, and saw the Alhambra, the Cathedral and the tombs of the great Spanish monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella. Granada is a vibrant place, a beautiful and remarkable city that draws together the finest aspects of Spanish and Arabic culture. The tapas bars are also fantastic. You can go and buy a beer and then get a free tapas all for under a Euro. The best idea, and most fun is to do a tapas bar crawl, and by the end you will have had about enough food to constitute a reasonable meal, plus the alcohol. It is the ideal night out for anyone on a budget.

Sure it is popular with toursts but you can escape the tourist traps and have just as good a time. It is a city to explore and to give your time to and you will be glad you did it.

By Paul Stafford