Contradictions

I'm heading off to Granada this morning for the last leg of my holiday. The train isn't until lunchtime so I had enough time this morning to head out for breakfast before leaving for the station (which I'll be doing in about half an hour).

It was beautifully cool (well, by Seville standards at any rate) at 9 am this morning and I sat for a hour on the terrace outside my breakfast spot with my cafe con leche and read my book. On my way back I was struck by one of the contradictions of Spain. It is a deeply religious country, with many many churches, religious imagery everywhere yet at the same time it loves to party. As anyone who has been to Spain will know, the evening only really gets going around 10 pm - and that's during the week. At the weekend it can be midnight or 1am before things start getting really lively. I can't say that I've participated in the late night revellery, but I have benefited from it by being able to walk back to my hotel at 11 pm and feel perfectly safe because of the numbers of people on the street. Clearly here having fun and being religious are not mutually exclusive, unlike Calvinist Scotland!

I was tickled, however, this morning on my way back to the hotel by the revenge that the Church gets on the late night revellers. It was 10 am and all of a sudden all the church bells starting ringing, calling the faithful to Mass presumably. Now that's one way to remind you of the sins of the flesh - or more acurately, the alcoholic liquids. I wouldn't like to have a hangover on a Sunday in Seville!

It was particularly intense where I was as I happened to be walking past a convent at the time. I looked up and there were the bells tolling away big-style. I was reminded, completely unfairly I hasten to add, of the film Black Narcissus, and its mad bell tolling nun. If you haven't seen it, rent it this week - Deborah Kerr at her best!

And now, off to the station for me and a 3 hour slow train to Granada. At last a chance to see the countryside and not just a blur from the AVE/Avant high speed trains.

Speak to you later xx

If life gives you oranges...

...you'd better just make marmalade!

I've been wandering round Seville for two and a half days now and seeing orange trees everywhere, sadly too late for the orange blossom, which must be amazing. But it's only today that I put two and two together - oranges, Seville oranges, marmalade - doh! I guess there wasn't really anything else they could do with them all was there? Apart from make wine, that is! Many of the bars here advertise that they sell Vino de Naranja (oranges) but when I asked about it the waiter (he of the chatting up on Thursday lunchtime!) pulled a face and said, Too sweet. So I've not tried it. I get the feeling it's a tourist thing.

When I was thinking about what to write today, I also thought about the other meaning of that epithet (the oranges/lemons one, not the sweet wine - keep up!). It's certainly incredibly hot here in Seville (have I mentioned the heat once or twice yet?) and to be honest almost too hot to do anything really. Much as I love shopping, and there is plenty of it here, I've been finding it too hot to be interested (gasp, shock horrot!). But today as I was wandering about with nothing much to do, I discovered that the shops have air-conditioning and while I might not feel like buying anything, window shopping has the whole added pleasure of vicarious air-con coolness. Bliss! (Do you like the entirely gratuitous photo of shoes, by the way?)

As for the rest of today, I headed across the Guadalquiver to Triana, the barrio of Seville's gitano community. I'm not sure if it still is but this is traditionally where the Roma lived in Seville - presumably close enough to come and work in the factories (like Carmen) but not so close that the Sevillanos would have to live cheek by jowl with them. These days it is undergoing gentrification but some of the traditional ceramic workshops are still in evidence, selling their beautiful glazed tiles and pots.

I also wandered round the local market - not as busy on a weekend as it is during the week I suspect judging by the number of closed stalls, but very impressive they were. All with glazed tile signs announcing who had which stall. A far cry from many of the somewhat tatty UK markets!

And finally, something you didn't expect...

because, of course, no-one expects the Spanish Inquisition!

Duende

I am in love with a flamenco guitarist!

To be fair, I'm also in love with several flamenco dancers too. But I draw the line at the singers - what is it about girth and singing voices? Then again, maybe if I just close my eyes I could be in love with them too!

As you'll probably guess, I'm just back from my flamenco show. Wow, it was amazing - probably incredibly touristy but I'm sold on it. I wish I could dance like that. We had the works, flirtatious, soulful, dramatic, fiery, athletic - but all passionate, every single note and step. I was exhausted just watching.

And it wasn't only the dancers either - the singers and the guitarists were amazing too. Particularly the soulful one with long dark hair and sparkling eyes!! The way he made a guitar sing was truly beautiful.

While I was in Cordoba I happened across a Flamenco exhibition, so I knew a little bit about its traditions - its roots (and continuing culture) as a gypsy art form, and I also knew that it was very passionate, but nothing prepared me for what I saw (and felt). For most of the performance I was hypnotised by the rhythm, movement and sound - the way the dancers and the singers could turn their bodies and voices into musical instruments was amazing. The fire of the dancers was awe inspiring. The women danced as if there was no-one else in the room and with complete pride in the way their bodies moved. And the male dancer - well now I know where the Spanish snake hips you see on some men here come from!

I was also taken with the connections with Middle Eastern music and dance - from the sounds of the voice to the hand movements. All very reminiscent of other cultures, but in an art form that is quintessentially European to us now.

As I said, I am in love!

Best bar nun

Well, it was a day for nuns today. You know what it's like, never one for ages and then you see 5 in a row! I kid you not, in the space of about 2 hours I saw 5 different nuns. It just goes to remind you what a religious country Spain is. I'm a bit worried they might have been reading my blog from yesterday - you should have seen the disapproving looks they gave me. Or alternatively it could just have been my strappy top!

And as the picture above shows, I had great need of light clothes today. The temperature actually hit 42 degrees at the next display but I didn't feel like stopping to take another photo. This was hot enough for me. Admittedly it was in the full sun, but it was at least 37 degrees in the shade. So I tried to make it a less energetic day than yesterday, and so far it seems to have worked - my ankles are only slightly puffy and the heat rash seems to be staying away. It could be something to do with spending the morning on an air conditioned bus, lunchtime in the shade at a bar and the afternoon back at the hotel for a rest.

The bus tour was amusing - Seville doesn't really lend itself to bus tours since the sights are all either in a pedestrianised zone or in streets too narrow for buses of the double decker (or any for that matter!) variety. So I spent an hour or so listening to some interesting snippets about Seville whilst watching the traffic jam that seems to be the normal state of play for the centre of the city.

Actually I think it's probably worse at the moment since La Vuelta, Spain's version of the Tour de France, hits town tomorrow night and large parts of the road network are already being closed off in preparation. La Vuelta, what a fabulous name, much better than the old UK version, the Milk Race - hmm, inspirational eh?!

My other highlight of the day was a visit to Plaza de Espana, possibly one of the most vulgar places outside Las Vegas. Apparently it was used as for a scene in one of the Star Wars films. Words fail me, so you'll just have to look at my pics instead. As you can see, I managed a full tour of Spain without leaving Seville - and all in the midday sun!

After a lovely, if hot, lunch I headed back to the hotel for a pre-flamenco, post-tapas siesta and now I'm about to head back out again for my cultural experience tonight. Hope it's good. Watch out for a review on tomorrow's blog post.

Why does the devil have all the best music?

Or so they say! I'm not sure that he does (Gregorian chant, Hallelujah Chorus, Verdi's Requiem anyone?) but even if he does, I would have to say that after today's offering, I think God wins hands down in the art and buildings stakes! (This one is by my new favourite artist, Goya, by the way)

Today I arrived in Seville after another very successful Spanish train journey from Cordoba. If Cordoba was hot (29 degrees at 9.30 am), then Seville is officially scorchio - and I have the puffy ankles and heat rash to prove it. Not to mention the slightly green tinge to my skin caused by the dye from my cheap Rastro dress mixing with sweat and staining my back!

But, oh was it worth it. Even though I only got here at lunchtime I managed to pack in a trip to Seville's Cathedral and Giralda as well as the Alcazar. Two completely awesome places to visit right next door to each other. The Cathedral was built deliberately to show off (what lunatics can do in praise of God apparently), while the Alcazar was pretty much the same but in a secular vein. Both were largely Christian endeavours but drawing heavily on Seville's Islamic history, and in the case of the Cathedral encasing the minaret from the previous Mosque inside the Giralda bell tower. Just like Cordoba - spot a trend here!

Another interesting fact about the Giralda? It doesn't have steps up to the top inside but has a ramp instead. This was so the guy going up to call the prayers (the Muezzin) could ride up on a horse rather than walk. All I can say is, poor horse!! But the views from the top were lovely.

The Alcazar was sumptious. There is no other word for it. Both the building and the gardens. Unfortunately, although the gardens look cool and lush, they were anything but. Sitting in them was like sitting inside a hairdryer - expect not as cramped as I expect a hairdryer is.

I continued practising my Spanish all day - and continued not being able to understand what was being said to me other than the simplest phrases. Leading to much hilarity in the bar I stopped in for mid afternoon tapas. I'm still not sure if they were laughing at me or the young waiter's attempts to chat me up. I think it was actually the latter - poor soul!

And then back to the hotel, via the former Royal Tobacco Factory (now the University) of Carmen fame. Also via the Seville tram system - a transport network so pointless, it makes Edinburgh's one look like a paragon of sense!

The other breaking news is that I broke my not going out in the evening duck tonight. It was enforced since the hotel wasn't serving food and had no bottles of water for sale (other than the pointlessly minute ones in the mini bar). So it was back out again to discover that completely by chance I've managed to book myself a hotel in the hip and happening part of Seville with plenty of tapas bars to choose from.

This trend is forecast to continue tomorrow too as I've taken the plunge and booked a ticket for an early evening Flamenco show - early being 8pm and finishing at 10 pm. A veritable matinee by Spanish standards!
Exciting though!