Despite our missing completely both the train station AND the time of our train, once in Sevilla things slowed down and relaxed in a very good way. In only the way things tend to slow down in the south of countries :) Madrid was a very fun city but getting LOST in Madrid would be, well, terrifying... while getting lost in Sevilla would be like getting lost in Candyland. If you replaced candy with hidden plazas, squares, and churches, each one more beautiful than the last. AND you can still buy candy if you want, or even better= churros con chocolate!! When I think of Spain, I like to think of Sevilla. This is also where we had our first hostel experience, staying at the Urbany a bit north of the city center. Total success for our first hostel! Even though we shared the room with four other people, we had a bathroom to share and large lockers (which we FOLLOWED DIRECTIONS to open and lock. High five us.) along with free wireless internet, two computers to use, and free breakfast...not to mention free walking tours around the city which is MY kind of price.
Our first night, however, we simply dropped our junk and took a walk to the city center, passing the Catedral de Sevilla (3rd largest in the world! Not to mention stunningly beautiful, wait for pics), the Alcazar, the Torre de Oro, river, Plaza de Toros (where a bull fight was finishing up as we passed.... bad timing!!) and Puente de Triana. Everywhere you look is a feast for the eyes, with many of the buildings white and mustard yellow and historical architecture so ornate and widespread (aka EVERYwhere) we literally hurt our necks looking at it all.
First night's dinner was at the oldest tapas bar in Sevilla called El Reconcillo, opened circa 1670, where we ate a half dozen choices of tapas while standing up at the bar (we just ordered all the speciales) and looked blatantly American. Following dinner Megan and I walked to/searched for La Carboneria...a hidden gem of a bar that has free flamenco and literally doesn't have a sign. It's down a creepy alleyway and you're supposed to just search for the red door which...amazing city navigators we are...we FOUND! No big deal. We could definitely understand the purposeful anonymity of the place because those who DID find it filled the place up. On a Sunday night, no less! Drinking Sangria and clapping along, I found myself in awe of flamenco dancing and its stomping, clapping, slightly off-key singing (maybe that's bc it was free...), guitaring, hand twirling, and intense face-making. What is supposed to be an intensely fierce flamenco face can easily be misconstrued as constipation face. Watch out. My FAVORITE part, however, was having the short, old, white haired Sevillian man with a full-on mustache--a man who was clapping along and exchanging smiles with the flamenco dancer--befriend us, give us the long, slow once-overs of an old man who is totally shameless, and begin singing "MmmmaaaAAAaaAAaattttIIIiiiiIIIlllLLLLddddDDeeeeEEeeeEEEE" in the flamenco style. He also commented on my dress, "Zeehbra! Ay yay yay!" Love those crazy drunken Spaniards.
The next day's walking tour proved thorough and HOT. First sunburn of the trip officially. Post-3hr-tour, Gilligan-style, we moseyed over to a hole in the wall selling bocadillos (sandwiches) for 2.25euros, ate in an empty square, and headed over to the Catedral to walk around and climb the CRAZY high tower that fortunately had no stairs, but is climbing up an inclined ramp really better? I sure would have hated being the donkey that had to carry the Imam up that ramp 5 times a day back when the Moorish controlled the city. The Alcazar the following, and last, day was fantastic as well, once we got past the 40-minute line...despite the fact that the bouncer/ticket-nazi didn't believe Megan was a student, charging her full price, and that we couldn't hear our audiotour bc for some reason every single child in the city of Sevilla happened to have a field trip there that day. I don't exactly think they got the whole "historical significance" bit. But hey, the mutant goldfish in the pond were my favorite part too ;)
The Comedy of Errors occurred upon our departure from the city, following a trek back to the train station with bags on back and sandwiches in hand. Apparently we had bought tickets for the right train, but the WRONG DAY. Aka Thursday instead of Friday. Seriously? Are we that stupid, because I thought we were fairly intelligent and find myself questioning this fact one time too many. So far...wrong train, wrong station, wrong time, and now wrong DAY? All this and we ended up having to buy a first class ticket bc all the second class ones were booked...
On the train towards Barcelona we munched on our complementary meal, watched "The Men Who Stare at Goats," drank our vino tinto, and lounged in the luxurys of first class. Fortunately we came to the conclusion that every time something goes wrong, fate makes up for it in one way or another.....................or so. we. THOUGHT!
First night's dinner was at the oldest tapas bar in Sevilla called El Reconcillo, opened circa 1670, where we ate a half dozen choices of tapas while standing up at the bar (we just ordered all the speciales) and looked blatantly American. Following dinner Megan and I walked to/searched for La Carboneria...a hidden gem of a bar that has free flamenco and literally doesn't have a sign. It's down a creepy alleyway and you're supposed to just search for the red door which...amazing city navigators we are...we FOUND! No big deal. We could definitely understand the purposeful anonymity of the place because those who DID find it filled the place up. On a Sunday night, no less! Drinking Sangria and clapping along, I found myself in awe of flamenco dancing and its stomping, clapping, slightly off-key singing (maybe that's bc it was free...), guitaring, hand twirling, and intense face-making. What is supposed to be an intensely fierce flamenco face can easily be misconstrued as constipation face. Watch out. My FAVORITE part, however, was having the short, old, white haired Sevillian man with a full-on mustache--a man who was clapping along and exchanging smiles with the flamenco dancer--befriend us, give us the long, slow once-overs of an old man who is totally shameless, and begin singing "MmmmaaaAAAaaAAaattttIIIiiiiIIIlllLLLLddddDDeeeeEEeeeEEEE" in the flamenco style. He also commented on my dress, "Zeehbra! Ay yay yay!" Love those crazy drunken Spaniards.
The next day's walking tour proved thorough and HOT. First sunburn of the trip officially. Post-3hr-tour, Gilligan-style, we moseyed over to a hole in the wall selling bocadillos (sandwiches) for 2.25euros, ate in an empty square, and headed over to the Catedral to walk around and climb the CRAZY high tower that fortunately had no stairs, but is climbing up an inclined ramp really better? I sure would have hated being the donkey that had to carry the Imam up that ramp 5 times a day back when the Moorish controlled the city. The Alcazar the following, and last, day was fantastic as well, once we got past the 40-minute line...despite the fact that the bouncer/ticket-nazi didn't believe Megan was a student, charging her full price, and that we couldn't hear our audiotour bc for some reason every single child in the city of Sevilla happened to have a field trip there that day. I don't exactly think they got the whole "historical significance" bit. But hey, the mutant goldfish in the pond were my favorite part too ;)
The Comedy of Errors occurred upon our departure from the city, following a trek back to the train station with bags on back and sandwiches in hand. Apparently we had bought tickets for the right train, but the WRONG DAY. Aka Thursday instead of Friday. Seriously? Are we that stupid, because I thought we were fairly intelligent and find myself questioning this fact one time too many. So far...wrong train, wrong station, wrong time, and now wrong DAY? All this and we ended up having to buy a first class ticket bc all the second class ones were booked...
On the train towards Barcelona we munched on our complementary meal, watched "The Men Who Stare at Goats," drank our vino tinto, and lounged in the luxurys of first class. Fortunately we came to the conclusion that every time something goes wrong, fate makes up for it in one way or another.....................or so. we. THOUGHT!
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