Tucked away in Granada's Realejo neighborhood, the Museo Safardí Granada occupies a traditional house that once stood at the heart of what was known as "Garnata al-Yahud" – Jewish Granada. This small museum opened in 2013, coincidentally the same year Spain offered nationality to descendants of expelled Sephardic Jews.

The location itself tells half the story. Walking through the narrow streets leading to the museum, you're following paths that Jewish families used for centuries before 1492. The Realejo sits at the foot of the Alhambra, and there's something poignant about this proximity – the very place where the Catholic Monarchs signed the expulsion decree now overlooks a space dedicated to preserving that lost community's memory.

Inside, the Chevalier family has created something that feels more like stepping into someone's home than entering a typical museum. They're descendants of anusim themselves, which adds a personal dimension to the collection. The exhibits don't overwhelm you with artifacts behind glass cases. Instead, you'll find everyday objects, maps showing how the medieval city looked, and a ceramic kitchen that brings domestic life into focus.

What struck me most was how the museum connects Granada's Jewish past to the broader Sephardic diaspora. You learn about figures like Samuel Ibn Nagrella, who gave the city its public bath system, and realize how deeply integrated this community was before the expulsion. The miniature recreation of worship spaces and workshops helps you imagine the bustling life that once filled these streets.

The museum also maintains a specialized library and offers guided walks through the old Jewish quarter. An audio guide is available if you want to delve deeper into specific aspects of Sephardic culture and history. The small Sephardic-style patio provides a quiet moment to absorb what you've learned.

This isn't Granada's most famous attraction, and it doesn't try to be. The museum serves a different purpose – it fills in gaps that other sites leave empty. When you visit the Alhambra or walk through the Albaicín, you're seeing layers of history. The Museo Safardí adds another essential layer, one that was deliberately erased but deserves remembering.

The scale works in its favor. You can absorb everything without feeling rushed, and the intimate setting makes the historical narrative more personal than academic.