"Editions France-Afrique" will shortly be publishing a picturesque and eventful film by Paul Grimaldi: "L'enchantement de Grenade" (The Enchantment of Granada), a remarkable evocation of a Spain we'll probably never see again. Here is a brief but striking description of Granada's Sacro-Monte, the gypsy quarter.

Once past the last houses, the path winds up the side of Sacro Monte, among cacti and aloes. It skirts the famous cuevas where countless generations of gitanos have loved, suffered, wept, laughed and danced under the generous Andalusian sun.

In front of each dwelling, young and beautiful women and others almost withered, dressed as their forebears during the time of the Moorish kings, are chewing on a flower, a twig or, for those with a sweet tooth, a caramelos that always sits next to the copper pennies and castanets in a pocket of their ample petticoats, they group together, scatter and repeat themselves, waiting for tourists in search of local color.

They are there, always ready to dance the ardent, voluptuous Zambra, to sing those languorous, nostalgic Andalusian refrains, to the rhythm of the guitars and castanets, always ready, these daughters of a carefree, childish race, to dispense joy and pleasure, like the day its light, the night its freshness and the spring its pure water.