Early morning walks

 

Love how you can peek into the gorgeous courtyards and see glimpses of another lifestyle! 

Lots of art work scattered through the city!  Roll over Beethoven!

The Mushrooms of Sevilla

On our wanderings we discovered in the Plaza de la Encarnación the Metropol Parasol also known by the locals as the mushrooms of Seville. The area was run down and the square was destined to be a car park but the remains of a roman town complete with mosaics from houses from the first century AD were found.  An architectural competition was launched and Jürgen Mayer, a German architect  was chosen to revitalise the square.He designed the largest wooden construction in the world (150 x 70 meters and 26 meters in height). Of course it went over budget and time but has become one of the most popular sites in Sevilla.

Amazing what you find when you wander!  Loved it!

A babble of languages in Seville Cathedral

We hate the disgorged tourist experience but we couldn't really miss Seville Cathedral and the tomb of Christopher Columbus.  So we forked out our 25 Euros and joined the queue of thousands of tourists who followed the yellow umbrellas or red flags of their guides.  Around us was a babble of languages.  Bedlam!  However the tomb was impressive!

Roger here! I just love all the history and this is my take on Christopher Columbus.

Christopher Columbus (1451 - 1506) originated from Genoa in present day Italy is famous for a voyage to the Americas sponsored by the Catholic Monarchs of Spain.  It is known fact that the Vikings visited and inhabited America hundreds of years before and the native first peoples would be surprised that Columbus "discovered" America.  Anyway he was still an amazing self made man who dreamed of finding a Western passage to the spice islands of the East Indies. What followed was hundreds of years of colonisation, exploitation of resources and slavery.  Many places bear his name: Columbia (S. America), British Columbia (Canada), Columbus Ohio (USA) and Washington (Capital USA) located in the district of Columbia.  He is buried in Sevilla Cathedral.  Sevilla was the major port and held a monopoly of trade with the Americas for many centuries. 

 

Seville is a city of light, laughter, and music.

The mornings are crisp - around 19 degrees and the raucous streets of the previous evening quietened. This is our time to claim the city. Mist rises above the river and we start our daily circle walk.  Which of the narrow streets will entice us today?

From our balcony we watch as the day slowly unfolds.  A lonely runner pounds across the bridge. A truck laden with fruit, blocks the street to unload fresh fruit for the market.  Everything in slow motion.  When we first arrived, we rushed to the market at 7.00am eager to buy freshly baked bread.  We now know that 10.00am is an acceptable time!  Ah well, if you have dinner at 10.pm it makes sense!

One of Roger's greatest pleasures is to research the Blue Plaques in the country he is visiting.  Tirania being the centre of ceramics has some of the most beautiful in the world.  And who was Andres Martinez de Leon... Oops.. Hey Roger who was he again?

Little St Martins pulls out all the stops...and trumpets ... and drums and ...

We love visiting the grand churches and palaces but our greatest joy is wandering through the narrow streets and finding the little (but grand) community churches and so it was with St Martins. 

 

At 10.00 am we could feel the excitement.  Was it a wedding?  A funeral? 

Then I got it! Memories and emotions flooded through my body.  I was seven years old again! 

It was a religious procession,  

Now I grew up on an economically challenged council (commission) Estate.  Unlike our neighbours, my friend's surnames were Desforges, Valerio, Kempka etc.  We were a small island of catholics in a predominantly Protestant community.  As a seven year old there were many exciting times but none more so than the 1 May and 1st June - the months of Our Lady and The Sacred Heart.  It's only now in this village of St Martin's it strikes me what a shock it must have been for our neighbours to see us walk in procession through the streets, band playing, proudly parading the statues of Mary or Jesus.  

Communion frocks and suits were washed and lengthened, shoes polished.  Flowers ordered and the choir and band rehearsed! One year my friend Margaret Valerio was crowned May Queen and I was her handmaiden!  Oh the joy!

Its over 50 years since I left the Catholic Church but to see this procession was a truly emotional experience.

Ps Don't you love the feet shuffling under the canopy of the trailer bearing the Madonna.  What a hot and heavy task that must have been!

Sevilla Paseando

Everyday we plan to take a bus or a tour of Seville but as usual we start walking and can't stop.  We do circle tours and Roger being the avid geographer he is mapped our trips.  Amazingly as we wandered and chatted to people in our deplorable Spanish we walked over 10km a day!  

Loved it... the following blogs are highlights of our walks in Seville.

We couldn't resist the funniest Flamenco EVER!

On one of our morning trips to the Mercado, we saw this intriguing sign and theatre.  We couldn't resist.  

When we arrived the market was closed but as we walked by the closed stalls, we saw a large box like structure being wheeled out by a plump, jocular guy.  He set it down unfolded it and unbelievably somehow slid himself inside.  The evening had begun!

We showed him our phone booking and he beamed. Then very carefully wrote seat numbers onto our tickets before rolling them carefully into a cone.  (Everything here is packaged beautifully in paper and yes, usually in a cone).  We sat on a bench watching audience members arrive but confident smiles were quickly replaced with looks of bewilderment. The wall behind us vibrated with the thunder of flamenco shoes punctuated by the sound of someone wailing. 'What had we let ourselves in for?' 

Time ticked by.  Every now and then the ticket seller would open the door behind us and peer inside releasing a wave of sound.  Finally, he smiled and carefully ushered us into one of the smallest theatres I've ever seen. 

There were about twenty people in all.  When we were seated, a hand reached out from behind the curtain and pulled a string to reveal two chairs.  We waited until we saw and heard the stage door open onto the tiny stage.  An embarrassed looking guitarist bowed his way to a chair and started to play.  He was terrific!

When he had finished he bowed again, looked around him and waited. Nothing happened.  He leaned over to the stage door and knocked loudly before turning back to us and shrugging!  He looked as amused and bewildered as the rest of us!

A small, tubby man in black suit, gold necklaces, flashing rings strode the centre of the stage, nodded to the guitarist and then began to sing.  No wait, that should be WAILED!  Tears poured from his eyes and sweat from his brow.  Eventually, it ended.  The guitarist was a relieved as we were!

We were jolted awake as castanets exploded like fireworks and the rhythmic thunder of feet announced the Flamenco dancer.  She burst onto the stage,  froze and fixed the singer with sultry eyes. The guitarist watched with an amused look as the singer wailed once more.  The cycle of sultry looks, staccato of castanets, feet and the wailing singer continued a metre away from our front row seats.

It was an unforgettable evening.  We loved it!