Sevilla

 

It's been said that Sevilla is the most Spanish of Spanish cities, and while I'm not well enough traveled to make such declarations, I have to say that it rang true for me. It will always hold a special place in my heart because it's where we reunited with Lily after three long months apart. She was waiting for us outside our apartment which was perfectly located in the center of town. We were both giddy to see her, hug her, hear her stories. She changed her flight to get in earlier. I think she was excited to see us as well. We had so much catching up to do. We walked across the Guadalquivir River, that runs through the city, to find a place for a meh late lunch, but cold beers and papas fritas and just being seated around the same table were formidable redeemers. We continued catching up at a hopping little place where we snagged a table on the street and started to really get a take on the vibe of the capitol city of Andalusia. It's charming, inviting and friendly. There is a welcome family vibe and a sense that real everyday life happens here: packs of uniformed teens walking home from school, friends gathering for happy hour after work, parents holding little hands or pushing prams. The safe cobblestone streets are always busy with people and orange trees - 47,000 in total.

 Kayla arrived to spend the weekend with us at about 10 o'clock. The apartment was well appointed. The girls had a bed and bath on one side and we were on the other side. The only noise was from the street so we quickly learned we had to shutter windows and turn on the air for a good night's sleep. We had no dinner plan except...food, and ended up eating outside in the rain at a cute little place called Meson Serranito Sevilla with an adorable waiter and our two translators. I was so excited about a platter of grilled vegetables. As much as I love pan and chorizo and jamon, I so needed this. We ducked into El Gallo Negro with everyone else in town to escape the rain and continue the fun. And it was lots of.

The girls went on a coffee run Friday morning and came back with umbrellas too. We had a busy day of touring and it was pouring. Our first stop was The Real Alcazar, an incredible palace with origins dating back to the 10th century. Patricia was our guide who gave us all the goods on the smash up of  Mudejar, Gothic, Renaissance, and Baroque architectural styles. After all, each ruler must leave his or her mark...stamp. There are Jewish stars, words from the Koran, Roman symbols and Castilian symbols as well and sometimes all in the same room. If these walls could talk. Our next stop was the Catedral de Sevilla, the largest Gothic cathedral in the world and the resting place of at least 150 grams of Christopher Columbus. It's true. Churches are museums in Spain. They have extensive art collections, and even some masters. The panoramic views from 34 floors up La Giralda were worth the long climb.

 

 

 

 

 We stopped at Tia Consuelo for tapas post tour. There was a break in the rain so we sat on the street where we were strong armed by Abdul who insisted we buy his bracelets and when we did not, he cursed Mike and told me to get a new, better husband. We left room for gelato and time for street shopping and really wanted a siesta, but we had tickets to a Flamenco show and knew we needed to carry on. It was memorizing...the costumes, the movement, the passion and emotion. Ole means allah. Flamenco is more prayer than dance and for that an experience not a performance. I'm so glad we did this in Sevilla because it is where Flamenco was born.

We had reserves at a Mexican restaurant for dinner. I think the girls are growing tired of Spanish food and while it wasn't my choice, it was quite delicious. Delicious, but not spicy. Flavorful, not hot. Spaniards don't eat heat. After a walk through the city and a night cap, we called it a night. A very good day and night.

Saturday was a blank canvas. This works for us. Some structure and some time for come what will and may. It was a beautiful warm, sunny day. Our first stop was Plaza de Espana, the largest plaza in the world and the busiest. It's Saturday and it seems that everyone is here: novios, abuelas, gatos, pajaros, magicians, musicians, perros, caballos, touristas and enough good ju ju to go around. After we got our fill of people watching, we walked clear across town through one quaint neighborhood after another shopping along the way to Fatoush, where we hoped to score a table for lunch. It's the best restaurant in Sevilla and we are determined to eat there so we put our name in and hung out in a nearby square drinking vino de naranja and cerveza and getting high on the energy because this is THE place to be. I think we were the only tourists there, but I didn't feel like one. Fatoush was worth the wait. We enjoyed a perfect Lebanese feast. The labneh salad is just what I needed and wanted, but the hummus and falafel were also divine. I didn't think I'd be eating Lebanese food in Spain, but I'm glad I did. We shopped our way home for siesta after lunch. It was 6 o' clock.

 

 

We decided that dinner should be dessert and headed out to El Commercio, the oldest, best place for Churros in Spain. We were too late and it was closed. I was so confused. Apparently, churros are for breakfast. It was an okay miss as we ended up at a Japanese place for tapas beneath the Setas and it was sort of perfect: the spontaneity, the cool night, the company, the shrimp dumplings. The city was still bustling at midnight, but the girls had a plane to catch before dawn and we had a train to get shortly thereafter so we bid adios to this magical city I already loved. Next stop...Barcelona.