Surviving Sevilla

Ghosts from European journeys past. Arriving in Seville by train, I wondered was this the Spanish station whose WC I was locked in one night while waiting to get out of town, 35 years ago?

1981 – I remember being in a stall when someone came into the room and spoke loudly in Spanish. Not knowing what they said, I said nothing. I heard them leave. Suddenly I was in darkness. I came out and managed to find the light switch, but the door was locked. I banged on that door and shouted for someone to let me out. Finally someone on the other side starting yelling back to me in Spanish. Anxious English and speedy Spanish went back and forth until someone returned with the key and I was released. That train couldn’t come soon enough, especially after the difficulty we had trying to leave Seville. But more on that later.

Back to 2016 – Had Seville grown so much over the years? Or had I just forgotten? It was hot, humid and traffic was busy, making our 30 minute walk to the Airbnb unpleasant. But Manuel, our host, met us on the street, which was great because his place was tucked in a tiny square off the street and we probably wouldn’t have found it. It was a beautiful big apartment but we didn’t realize the distance it was from the thick of tourist things.

Unfortunately Manuel was also the bearer of bad tidings, telling us we wouldn’t be able to the Roman ruins at Italica because Game of Thrones was filming there.

On our first day we went to Seville’s Cathedral, the third largest Christian Church in the world after St. Peter’s and St. Paul’s, and the largest Gothic Cathedral.

It has a massive, garish gold altar that none of my photos show well. So I’ll give you a couple of images of Justa and Rufina, Seville’s favourite martyred saints.

The tower between the two women is the Giralda, which is attached to the cathedral and began life as a muslim minaret. We climbed to the top of it and as I was looking at the bells and hoping they wouldn’t ring, they rang. Thankfully it was just 2 pm.

Shopping, food, walking and laundry took up the rest of Day One.

Day Two we got out early to walk to the walking tour meeting point. The next two hours we were escorted around Seville and learned for the first time since being here that Spain hasn’t had a president for the last 10 months. They’ve had two elections in that time both ending the same. The population (according to our guide, Jose Alphonso) wants a coalition but the politicians can’t agree. There may be another election, held inexplicably on Christmas Day.

Things we saw along the way.

Our two hours of walking over, we decided to walk to the archeological museum. Let’s just say it looked closer on the map. Since we couldn’t get to Italica, this would have to do.

The museum was worth the walk and was free. I discovered a whole wall of actual Roman footprints (which will soon be shown in more detail on my other blog Romanfootprints.com). I have never seen anything like these and will have to do more in-depth research, the sign in the museum only briefly said they were dedications to gods and goddesses.

After the museum we meandered through Maria Luisa Park.

Then to the Plaza de Espana, a huge mosaic and tiled plaza built for the 1929 Expo.

So, apparently not having walked enough, we headed off north to find the Roman aqueduct.

Then back south to find Marmoles (or Marble) Street to see some Roman columns.

This is where my camera battery ran out of steam. We had as well. But we weren’t home yet. Off we headed in what we thought was the direction of our place but the streets are a labyrinth and we went in circles before finding ourselves on the map again. Just what we needed, more walking. Back in our place at last, my phone said we had walked 19 km this day.

Day Three we traded hot and humid for rain. Fits of steady rain interspersed with periods of torrential downpours.

When the first downpour hit we fortunately ducked into a cafe that had excellent croissants that they actually didn’t slice in half and stick in a toaster (a barbaric practice that should get them kicked out of the EU, but perhaps I’m just cranky from being croissant deprived this trip. The only other good croissant I had was our first morning in Malaga and I thought it was going to be the norm but no, we had just lucked out stopping at a French coffee shop.)

Speaking about food though. Croissants aside, we could not manage to get bad food in Seville. Everything we had was delicious. From the tortilla patatas (potato pies), to multitudes of tapas, and even a spaghetti carbonara, the food was yummy.

Our next stop was the massive, multi-billion-dollar-costing, wooden structure known as the Mushroom, appropriate for the weather today. There was supposed to be a market there but the rain must have chased them away.

Instead we went under the Mushroom to look at the ancient level of Seville, or Roman Hispalis.

We had booked another tour with Jose Alphonso for the Real Alcazar, so off we went in the rain. We managed to get to the Tourist Info place across from our meeting spot before the next deluge hit. I watched the people in the rain while waiting.

Despite our best efforts we became absolutely soaked in the couple of minutes it took for the tour group to assemble and enter the museum. We’d stay wet the rest of the day.

After our tour we ate lunch/supper at the San Marco restaurant where Cameron Diaz, Madonna and Tom Cruise apparently have eaten before us. They had the photos at the entrance to prove it.

We soggily shopped as we made our way home, where we did not emerge until the afternoon of Day Four. It was still raining but the torrential downpours had stopped. We walked to the bus station to check out the distance and buy our tickets for Lagos, Portugal. Shopped some more and then headed back to pack. We had another delicious meal at a restaurant outside our Airbnb and got our host to book us a taxi to the train station for 8 the next morning.

Day Five. Still raining. We got outside to wait for our taxi. It was still dark at 8 am. We gave up on the taxi at 8:15 because our bus was at 9 and it takes a good half hour to walk. We imagined that we might hail a cab along the way but they had all disappeared as if they melted in the rain.

At about 8:45 with the bus station no where in sight, dragging my luggage over the wretched, uneven cobbles in the rain, I am visited again by a ghost of my last visit to Seville. The feeling of desperately wanting to leave and being thwarted.

1981 – We had had enough of Spain and Seville and decided to pay extra for a couchette/sleeping compartment. We got to the train station on time, only to find that time had shifted an hour in the night and the train had already left. Daylight savings time. It was March. Much gnashing of teeth and waiting around all day for another train (and getting locked in the WC). Our extra money gone with the wind, it was regular seats for us and an overnight in Barcelona.

2016 – Miraculously we arrived at the platform at 8:54 and quickly scrambled aboard, wet from rain and sweat. The bus departed at 8:59.

Why, Sevilla, do you make it so hard to leave you?

Now here it is, your moment of mosaics from the Seville Archeological Museum: