I went to Sevilla on a little adventure . I stayed in this hostel full of panic-stricken Erasmus students having difficulties finding accommodation and a hilarious Yorkshire-man with sunburn caught on a win-deh beach who managed to convince me that Machieavelli was a pragmatist.
Here are few things I saw / encountered / ate:
Arches upon arches at the Alcazar palace
A peacock unsure of himself crossing the road at the Alcazar gardens.
Such a lot of jamón
A game-bird tall at Mercado de Triana
This made me want to learn how to pluck and prepare a bird / skin a rabbit. I was filled with fake nostalgia to thinking of skills lost in our sanitised supermarket-society.
Churches with congregations! Wah? Plaza de San Lorenzo
This seemed like a novelty to me. The other week an American couple asked me if they would have to queue for evensong at the Cathedral and I struggled not to guffaw. It appears there is little else to do at 7 o'clock other than go to mass.
This vicar will look after your scooter while you pray
My view as I sat eating espinicas con garbanzos (garlicky spinach and chickpeas) and sipping beer at a little tapas bar. This is how I would woo someone. I felt wooed.
Nuns sells cakes through this hole in the wall at the Convento de Santa Ines. No word of a lie.
When my eyes were open, this was my view from my chosen bench in the Parque Maria Luisa. The sun shone and my worries burned away. I like siesta time, culturally legitimized napping, dozing on park benches without feeling like a tramp.
There was a free projection of Carmen on the patio of the city council building just minutes away from my hostel. Check out this clip of Antonio Gades' flamenco to set your heart a-fluttering. Look at him go! Flamenco, tap dancing with knobs on.
Almost the end airport tapas - notso hot but not as sad as sandwiches.
P.S. I ate some amaaazing ice-cream. There are no pictures because I was too busy scoffing it before it melted, duh! Interesting flavours included: caramel pine-nut, profiterole, pistachio, cinnamon and tiramisu.
