The very first time that I came to Spain as a 19 year old, Sevilla (Seville) was a city which I visited but only by night – a very drunken sangria one which had me dancing like a stupid tourist on stage with the live Flamenco performers (cringe). Thankfully now that I am many years wiser, I managed to restrain myself from such foolishness and the closest stage I came to climbing was the train platform :). I really didn't recall Sevilla being so big! Nor do I remember our partying Contiki tour passing through the HUGE cathedral – lets leave this subject all together shall we?
The cathedral really was amazing and I loved it even more because of the still standing tower and courtyard from the original mosque that they built over. At 70 years (by only 2 weeks) I managed to make my poor mother walk up 34 ramps of this minaret that once has horses walk to the very top everyday. It was completely claustrophobic as it just went round and round forever! Another thing I didn't remember about Sevilla is the gorgeous horse-drawn carriages – they are brilliant and I have no shortage of photos to prove it. The owners on the other hand are grumpy men who threaten tourists with the horse whip if they take photos of the horses and not purchase a ride! I saw it with my own eyes – thank goodness the police just turned up!
Sevilla is also the city with gorgeous hand painted tiled for street names and a lovely square to stroll in. The tram also services the university and until this trip, I really didn’t realise that its a University city! Aside from seeing the uni campuses, I learnt this fact first hand, as mum and I did happy laps on the city circle bus lines, where on a Thursday evening you scratch your head as to why there are so many Gen X students carrying plastic bags on the bus – its called carrying your alcohol, munchies and Marijuana for Thursday university night! Just like in Australia! I have never seen so many drunk uni students anywhere!
We went on a tour of the bull ring in Sevilla and by the end of the tour, I knew enough information to realise that if I actually went along to a bull fighting tournament, I would probably leave in tears!
I found an amazing store with vintage Flamenco posters from the 1950's and 60's that promoted upcoming Flamenco Fiestas and bull fighting tournaments. I lost my mind and bought two posters and a million postcards – which are all now proudly displayed on my bedroom wall!
We also found a little riad (Moroccan style home) that showcased a different Flamenco dancer, singer and guitarist each night for a small crowd. It was amazing and shat all over the Flamenco Opera in Madrid. On our way back to the hotel that night again we were shocked to see the streets buzzing with activity and the BEST EVER selection of tapas bars that I have experienced to date in Spain! I cant wait to go back there just for the selection. We ended up being addicted to a tapas pub that had the most delicious tapas and cheapest price ever. Suddenly I realised that I LOVE Spanish beer – and for a none beer drinker from Australia, this was a true miracle. I was craving beer like Homer Simpson for the whole day! Mum on the other hand got her “nut” fix – I grew up listening about her stories and love of chestnuts – you should have seen her face when we saw the chestnut guy roasting them. I soon learnt that perhaps my temper is not only from my father, but also my mother as she got angry that the bottom of her newspaper cone filled with warm chestnuts, in fact had 3 burnt one's. She was eyeing the guy off the whole time we sat nearby eating them, and continued to drive me “nuts”saying she should go over there and tell him she wants replacements! Needless to say I ensured that we bought more chestnuts or Castanya for mum over the next two weeks in Spain!
Next blog... Cordoba
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