Sevilla Thursday March 10-13
Sorry, but this post gets a little whiny. It's all part of the adventure.
This is kind of a loco ciudad. Mas personas. It was difficult to get my bearings, but I made sense of it in the end.
I was offered an apartment to stay by mom's friends Barbara, Jerry, originally from New York, and their daughter Elisa. They have more kids but I haven't met them. They run a Spanish-Cuban cross cultural center. They first moved to Spain in the early 60s.
Not only did they offer me the apartment, they took me to the concert hall, a dance performance (with music by David Byrne!), and treated me to a few meals.
I am most grateful. They are very tied into the artist community here. I am lucky to get a different experience than I would just on my own.
I arrived in the evening, went straight to the apartment, got changed and met with Barbara to go the concert hall. The symphony was a nice experience. The seats where in the perfect location. The acoustics in the hall were great. There was a piece composed by a Turkish composer that was the most interesting. It involved 2 pianos played by identical twins. Eastern rhythms, and some fun technical stuff like muting piano strings and some interesting soundscape moments from the strings and horns. The twins then performed a duet at 1 piano that was fun as they reached around each other at various points.
I'm finding the average person in the street kinda rude- maybe it's just me. Very New York.
Next week is Santa Semana a huge holy holiday with parades and such. That may have something to do with the attitude and number of tourists. I'm glad I will be missing it. They expect a ton of tourists. I don't see how they can fit many more. Locals leave town for the week! I guess that's how.
Seville brought out my attitude the first day. People don't get out of your way, so I dodge them. When I decide I'll act the same and stay my path they just bump the fuck into me. I'm assuming many are tourists but more than a few seem like locals who just dgaf.
On the other hand, I have also had the pleasure of meeting Sevillianos that have been most gracious. More on that.
After tapas for breakfast with Elisa (bocadillo de jamon y cafe americano) I spent the next few hours getting lost looking for 4 different music stores in search of a keyboard. I only found 2 of them and neither had what I was looking for.
So I found a nice spot for tapas for lunch. The waiter didn't have much patience for my shitty Spanish, but the food was good. Tortilla de camarones was the highlight.
Normally when staying at hostels I go for a "free walking tour" I think I described it in a previous post, but you get a nice tour of the city with info about the history, then you tip the guide at the end.
Since I'm not at a hostel I looked online and found one with good reviews. I emailed and they sent me the time and place they meet. I got there early(1:50) but didn't see anyone, so I waited, and waited. I walked around the statue 15 times just in case. So at 2:15 I called the phone number that came with email. He said that they indeed were at the meeting spot and left at 1:50. Even though the meeting time was 2? I asked. Yes, they left early today he said. But I was here at 1:50 and didn't see them leaving. And why did you tell me 2pm? - (y'all who know me know that I'm usually the guy who's there too early)
He apologized and said there would be another tour at the same spot at 3. So I grabbed a quick bite and was back at 2:50. Again I waited but there was no tour. So I called him back, told him he wasted my time and gracias para nada.
So instead I took myself on a tour through the cathedral so I could climb the tower Giralda.
There were so many other tourists (I have to remind myself I AM one of them, although I don't feel like it)
I got to the top , took some pics, and then back down. On the way down I was whistling and noticed the acoustics so I started humming (ommmmmm) a deep note and felt it throughout my body. Best part of the climb. The view was cool. I mainly went because it was originally designed as a mosque and the same designer built other towers in Morocco which I hope to see. (Side note: still trying to determine the accuracy of the previous statement)
Some hustler lady on my way in tried to hand me a sprig of rosemary and said something about its "an offering to <some> Saint". I handed it back and said "Soy pagan" She got stone faced for a second, then walked away. (a common scam is for someone to hand you something as if it's free then ask you to pay for it.) I can pick my own damn Rosemary if I actually cared. I have seen many of them since.
After the tower I took a nice walk along the river, over a few bridges, then back towards the apartment.
Then off for more tapas. While eating at the bar a very drunk Sevillian who didn't speak English named Willian? befriended me. As usual when asked where I'm from I just say California. He is a 16th generation Sevilliano and he has no kids. He mentioned this because in America he says we are all Something-American; Afro american, Italian american, Latino, Native American. I did my best to keep the conversation going and understand what he was saying. He had a friend call his phone to show me that his ring tone is Hotel California! The bartender and some other patrons where amused at our interaction.
With a few hours to kill I took an evening stroll along the river, passed by the bull ring, and went for a shot of espresso. While finishing my shot an old Spaniard named Enrique insisted on buying me a drink, so I had a gin and tonic and we tried to talk. between my bad Spanish, his bad English, and how ever many drinks he already had it was pretty pointless. I appreciated this kindness after a day of feeling edgy.
Then I left to meet Jerry and his friend, the Spanish poetess M Aguila Boge for a late night drink and some more tapas. We spent 2 hours talking about history, literature, and more. I was doing my best just to keep up. I learned that one of jerry's students in the 80s was a young Dan Brown, who later wrote The Da Vinci Code. Dan named one of the cardinals in the book after Jerry!
I wish I could document the conversation, but there was so much, so fast, in 2 languages, that it's hard to really do any justice here. What I can say is both of them have led a full and very interesting life, and their collective knowledge of Spanish history was deep.
Saturday
Woke up and took lil a stroll to find more tapas. I realize there are other foods here but the small portions mean I get to try more and more things. And they're so cheap. And Really good. 3 or 4 plates and a glass of wine usually comes to 10 euro or less ($11)
Then I went and found the Jewish quarter- Barrio de Santa Cruz!
The alleyways are even smaller than the rest of town. I didn't bring a map, just enjoyed wandering and getting lost, until I ended up leaving the barrio and landed in the middle of the shopping district. Tourist overload, had to get out of there. I really need to research destinations that are not on the tourist route for future trips.
After a quick nap, I went back out for Spanish lunch tapas. Huge steamed mussels, and some seasoned potatas that were awesome. Really haven't had bad tapas in all these meals. I wish we could eat like this at home. Then I was off to check out the palace gardens.
The gardens had some huge old trees with exposed roots that were way cool. I thought they were citrus, but noticed figs on some. Maybe the figs vines grew into the trees. I think that happens.
Have I mentioned the citrus trees here? O dios mio, the smell of them blossoming en masse is unbelievable! I have been picking some the flowers just to keep the scent but I know it won't last. Doesn't the citrus originate form North Africa? I have to look that up. If so I hope to see and smell more in Morocco, which I just realized is only a week away!
I love waking around old towns like this and thinking about what it must have been to live here in the past, the history is so visible at times, and I consider what it is like to live here now. I fantasize about moving everywhere. Lisbon, Porto, Sagres, and Seville. This historical aesthetic is one of the things that drew me to Albuquerque and New Orleans.
At this point a decided it would make sense to get on an early train in the morning, so I went back to pack up. Didn't want to dilly dally (with Sally in the alley) in the morning.
Then I went for yet another round of tapas, returning to the spot from yesterday where I met Willian. The bar tender offered me a few things gratis this time. I'm not sure but I think he thought I was put off by his loud customer yesterday, when in reality I was thoroughly amused and enjoyed the interaction. Either way I was glad to accept.
After that I met with Barbara to go the the dance performance along with Elisa and a group of locals. And what a performance it was. It was more theater than strictly dance. There was a lot of dialogue. I was having trouble understanding their Spanish when I realized they were actually speaking Italian, then Spanish, then English, French, and Chinese. It was an all male cast and as one I would expect outside the USA there was full frontal. Early in the performance they blew up a feather pillow. It made a pretty loud bang, and we were right up close. Then they started dancing, and if you can picture a bunch of people dancing on a stage full of white feathers, with a yellow light, it was very dramatic as the feathers would follow the dancers moves. Towards the end of the two hour performance they had feathers falling from above, like snow. The performers were laying face down on the ground flapping their arms like birds and then started to "fly" They got pretty high when they jumped from the floor. Like doing push-ups but going like 5 feet in the air. I thought that was pretty cool. I tried it when I got back and it's impossible.
I also realized early on that the music was originally by David Byrne of the Talking Heads. I wasn't exactly sure what they were trying to portray at times, but afterwards we had some food and wine at the theater and it turns out even those who spoke Spanish weren't entirely certain of what was being portrayed, so at least it want a language thing.
Got back to the apartment 1:30am set my alarm for 6am. I still woke up before my alarm.
Now I'm on the train to Córdoba.
When I speak Spanish to spaniards they ask if I'm Italian. I need to work on my accent.
Ciao
