Distance Traveled: 33,125 kms (BNE-MEL-SYD-BKK-PKT-BKK-CNX-BKK-PP-SR-BB-PP-HCMC-NC-TH-HA-H-L-MR-AG-SV)
Time Difference: -9 hours (from Brisbane)
Soundtrack: I am creating my own soundtracks at the moment. I got sick of my iPad being a useless piece of luggage that I was carrying around for no reason and got myself some apps, one to teach myself some barbershop tags with (tags are the end bit of the song) and another with which I can record them in all four parts! So I have been recording away, have done eight now (some better than others) and am having a great old time. Since I don't have a quartet at the moment, I have created my own!
Currently Inspired by: Life.
Words written:
33,884. See "Soundtrack". I've been busy. Next week is set aside for writing.
Here I am in Sunny Seville.
Here they call it Sevilla (seh-BEE-yah) and I’ve been walking around for
days singing a song about it to the tune of “Maria” from West Side Story...
Sevilla, I’m here in a town called Sevilla
And suddenly in Spain
There isn’t any rain, you see
Sevilla, your streets and cathedrals to me ah
Are lovely to behold
Your trees are made of gold
Sevillaaaaaaaa
And suddenly in Spain
There isn’t any rain, you see
Sevilla, your streets and cathedrals to me ah
Are lovely to behold
Your trees are made of gold
Sevillaaaaaaaa
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| Pretty City |
I know it’s silly, but my relief at no longer being in
Morocco is so great I just walk around everywhere with this huge smile, humming
away to myself! I didn’t realise how
tense I was until I got here and relaxed.
Here, I am completely anonymous, once again. Nobody looks at me. Nobody speaks to me unless I speak to them
first, I feel completely safe, and it’s absolutely wonderful. Several years ago my friend Jeremy and I came
to Spain but we stayed up around Madrid, doing a few towns within a couple of
hours drive. It was also winter when we
were there, and it was absolutely freezing.
I’ll never forget the icy wind that chilled us to the bone. We came to Spain to try and escape the
English winter for a week, and it ended up being colder, go figure. Here in the South it isn’t warm, and jackets
and scarves are required to go outside at all, but the wind is virtually non-existent,
so it means if you find a nice little spot in the sun you can strip down to
your shirt and have a bit of a bake.
Nice. We wanted to come to
Seville last time and it was just too far so I’m incredibly glad that I didn’t
miss out on seeing the place, because it is utterly charming. If you are planning a trip to Spain, ensure
you put it on your To Do List. It’s the
prettiest city I’ve ever seen.
Seville is the capital of the Andalucia region and has a
population of around 700,000. Much like
Brisbane, the city is divided almost north / south by a river, the Guadalquivir
in this case, and has half a dozen or so bridges to facilitate its crossings. Unlike Brisbane, the river is a beautiful clear
green colour. At around 2,000 years old,
the city of Seville has an extraordinary history and has produced a large
number of famous explorers, politicians and artistes,
notably poets. I can see why - it is a
very inspiring place. It is visually
characterised by the most amazing architecture, both modern and
historical. Since my first time here
I’ve felt that Spain must be a haven for insane but brilliant architects and
engineers who have been shunned by their more conservative peers, and Seville
has done much to consolidate this theory.
Incredible feats of design and engineering greet you pretty much
everywhere you look. Seville is also
notable for how incredibly green it is.
They really love their trees here.
“Spare bit of pavement? Chuck a tree
in it!” seems to be the city’s motto. (Note:
the actual city motto is NO8DO, which means, rather inexplicably, Seville has
not abandoned me. Guess you had to be
there.)
 |
| Orange Trees Everywhere |
Most of these trees are orange trees (hence “trees are made
of gold”) and I have been constantly surprised by how few oranges there
actually are on the ground. They must be
remarkably diligent about picking them up, because there are simply tens of thousands
of these trees all over the place, each one heavily laden with fruit. The same goes for the number of horses that
are in the city. Everywhere you look
they are standing around with their carriages, waiting to take tourists about
the place. I simply cannot believe how
clean the streets are. No oranges, no horse
shit, no anything really! And I’ve never
seen anyone cleaning up... what happens to it all? I’m afraid this might have to remain one of
life’s great mysteries, as I’m off tomorrow and don’t have time to find and
interrogate the city’s sanitation commissioner.
In addition, there are frequently oranges for sale in shops, which
strikes me as rather silly in a place where you can’t walk two metres even in
the heart of the city without coming nose first with an orange tree full of
ripe fruit, seemingly for anyone to pick.
Sevillians must never get colds.
Strangely enough I have only had a mandarin since I got here... it was excellent
though!
This is a very pedestrian friendly town, and a lot of fun to
walk around. One minute you’ll be on a
main drag, looking much like anywhere else in world (except for the profusions
of tapas bars), next you’ll be walking on cobblestones down a tiny winding alley
with four storeys of apartments on either side, a guy pulling cart in front of
you, and a van behind him, good naturedly crawling along at human walking pace,
half up on the pavement. Next you’ll pop
out and there will be an exceptionally beautiful building like the Torre Del
Oro (old watchtower on the river), just sitting in front of you, no fanfare, no
touristy stuff. Just go and look if you
want. It’s a pretty casual setup all
around. I’m in Centro, which is the
centre of town although not quite like the central business district. More like the Queen Street Mall. Boutiques line the streets here, and I’m
finding it more and more difficult not to buy any shoes. I was talking to someone the other day who
reminded me about the fire that destroyed all of my stuff before I left, and I
thought of all my beautiful shoes, and how they need to be replaced, and maybe
I could just buy this pair, or this pair... arrrrrrgh. I have been incredibly well behaved, and not
bought ANY, however I have started biting my fingers when I walk past the shoe
shops here, which is every day. Do they
really need to display them in the damn windows?
 |
| Mini goose burger with packet chips |
The food here is exceptional. Seville is famous for its tapas, and
deservedly so. I’ve had some amazing
dishes. There is a fabulous deli near me
which serves lunch and dinner, and they have the most incredible menu made up
(predominantly) from the products they sell over the counter. I had to list a few items on their menu,
because it is all just so good: creamy
vichyssoise (leek soup) with thin strips of cured ham and crusty bread; pinchos
(small open baguettes) one with creamed artichoke, a baked artichoke heart and
aforementioned ham, another with goat’s cheese, black pudding and crispy onions,
and yet another with chestnuts, shredded quail in brine and black truffle oil,
to name only a few of them; squid ink pasta salad with smoked salmon; mini
goose burger with sheep’s cheese, ham and caramelised onions. Drool.
I have eaten there almost once a day since I discovered it. There is also an excellent tapas bar right
across from my hotel which does a deal I was raving about on facebook, so I
shall copy directly from that: “OK so
the place across from my hotel does two plates of tapas of choice, glass of
wine of choice plus coffee or a sorbet for 10 euro. In addition, the tapas is
excellent, the glass of wine is massive and it also comes with a basket of
bread and a plate of olives (and hot waiters). Score!!!” Indeed. I have been rather slack with remembering to take photos of my food, but there are five additional photos in the food album that you can see by clicking here.
 |
| Creepy girl, bottom left |
 |
| Can you see her again?? |
As well as orange trees, Seville has a profusion of
remarkable and / or historical cultural sites, all within about a fifteen minute
walk from my hotel. (Aside: My hotel is excellent in terms of location, room, service,
breakfast, and is only 55 euros per night.
It is a relief to know I can get this kind of deal in Europe. Of course the fact that it is winter helps.) The three places I have been that really had
my jaw dropping were the Museum of Fine Art, Catedral de Santa Maria de la Sede
(Seville Cathedral) and Alcazar. I
really had to laugh with regard to the museum.
It has one of the best religious art collections I have ever seen in my
life, only second to the collections I saw in Rome really, and it’s this quiet
little unassuming place tucked away in back alleys, it has no signage, and it costs 1
euro fifty cents to get in. It takes
about two hours to walk around if you’re really looking at the art. I sat in front of a ten foot high triptych
depicting the road to Calgary and the crucifixion for ages, until a little
inappropriate girl in the bottom left hand corner of the left painting began to
freak me out. She was a chubby little thing,
standing next to Jesus as he was kneeling under the weight of the cross,
seemingly unaffected by the goings on, holding onto her mum’s thumb with one
fat hand, and weirdly clutching a silver spoon in the other. She was “clothed” in a see through pink toga
which was down on one side, exposing her chest.
It was really, really, inappropriate and incongruous and I had a nasty
reaction to it. Unfortunately it then
affected all the other paintings I looked at... all the grotesque parts of them began to
really pop out at me: men with bellies like women, demons with horrid tongues, limbs
contorted impossibly, unrealistic proportions from body to head, horrible
details like a dead skinned rodent on a plate on the table at the last supper
and other nasty bits and pieces. Then I saw a painting done 25 years earlier by
a different artist, and that weird little girl was in it! Or so it seemed to me. Oh and also they like to do sculptures of
Jesus, but mostly of his dead and decapitated head (he wasn’t decapitated??),
replete with neck tendons and bloody bone sticking out from the bottom.
I was glad, finally to move from the religious section and into
a special feature exhibit by a Spanish artist called Gonzalo Bilbao, who
specialised mostly in portraits. He had
the most uncanny knack with eyes I think I’ve ever seen. He made them seem so sad, and so soulful,
like he managed to catch the subject while they were thinking about the worst
day of their life, but trying to appear neutral in every other respect. Spanish artists are a happy bunch,
clearly. Still, art is supposed to
provoke a strong emotion, and in that it was successful, and gave me lots to
think about. Standing looking at pieces
of art as fresh and bright as daisies which were painted 600 years ago never
ceases to amaze me, and it was good to see a couple of paintings of the
Archangel Michael, because he is a character in my book, and I like to see
other people’s interpretations of him.
 |
| Inside Alcazar |
Alcazar is the official Sevillian residence of the Spanish
Royal Family, and when they are not there it is open to the public. (I think most of it is always open, except
for upstairs where they actually reside).
It was actually built initially as a Moorish Fort in the 10th
century, and then renovations to turn it into a palace began in the 14th
century. You can tell it is not like any
other European palace you’ll ever see, with the mosaic style and profusion of
arches being more reflective of middle eastern architecture than anything
else. The grounds are expensively and
beautifully tended, containing (of course) thousands of orange trees and amazing
hedges and water features. There are giant
tapestries, hundreds of years old, just hanging in the halls, and an absolute
maze of hallways that ensured it took me fifteen minutes to even figure out
which way the exit was, and then another ten minutes to actually get there. At which point I discovered that there was no
security at the exit and people were just walking straight in. So, tip for travellers to Seville, at
Alcazar, try the exit first, as it may save you 8 and a half euro. Click here to see the photos from
Seville, the art museum and Alcazar.
 |
| Cathedral (not my photo) |
 |
| Inside the Cathedral |
Seville Cathedral is next to Alcazar, and it’s, well, bloody
massive! It’s the largest Gothic
cathedral and the third largest cathedral in the world, only behind St Peter’s
Basilica at the Vatican and another Basilica in Brazil. Now I have been to St Peter’s Basilica and possibly
my memory is failing (it was nine years ago), but the Seville Cathedral seemed
much, much bigger. I think perhaps they
restrict access in St Peter’s. They
must, for security reasons, because Wiki tells me it is almost twice the size,
which is ridiculous. Basilicas
notwithstanding, the Seville Cathedral is awe inspiring and actually
daunting. When you look up, there is a walkway
that runs around the top, and looking at it from the ground, literally gave me
vertigo for a minute. A team of wild
horses couldn’t drag me up there, not that it’s open to the public. The cathedral itself only took about a
hundred years to build, which is extraordinary when you think of the basic
construction methods they had in the 1500s, and how incredibly high it is. It’s amazing that it was built at all, in
fact. Il Duomo Cathedral in Milan,
another impressive monolith and fifth largest in the world, took about four
hundred years to build, if that gives you some idea. Because it was simply so beautiful and
impressive, I have given it its own photo album. Unfortunately flashes were not permitted, and
as it is quite dark in some places, a lot of the photos are blurry or unclear,
which is a shame. You can see them by clicking here. Catholics and gold have quite
the relationship, don’t they? Like
Buddhists and incense. I always wonder
about the other uses to which all that Catholic gold could be put, were it not
filling the coffers of fat bishops and adorning the endless buildings and
statues erected to the fantasy that is religion!
Til Next We Speak
*LOVE*
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*LOVE*
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