Music: From Carmen to the Macarena

This morning, we headed to Maria Luisa Park.  It was the former site of a 1929 International Exposition to champion the Spanish-speaking world.  On the way, we passed Seville's University. It's housed in the former royal cigar factory.  Yes, THAT cigar factory where saucy Carmen charms soldiers and toreadors alike.  Unlike an opera such as Tosca (where there's no way in hell that Tosca throws her fat body from the Castel sant'Angelo into the Tiber), Carmen's premise is less of a stretch.  The Plaza de Toros, the cigar factory and the soldiers' barracks are all in close proximity.  The factory was massive, with 10,000 young women rolling cigars.  Now that it's the University of Seville, it's non-smoking!  If you've seen Carmen, you know the fountain that features prominently in her singing La Habanera. There's only one, so this must be it!

 

 

 

 





 The park itself was extraordinary.  The Spanish wanted to remind the world that they had been big stuff a few hundred years earlier and they were ready to spend some serious cash on showing off.  The place is filled with 'pavilions' representing countries from around the world.  Spain's Plaza Espana is easily the most grand.



After the park, it was off to La Basilica de Macarena.  No, we didn't do it. Sadly, we'd missed the chance to see the only reason one GOES to the basilica--to see the treasury.  It's highlight is a pair of 5 ton silver floats that are carried by teams of 48 men at a time during a procession for Holy Week.  They take the BVM VERY seriously here.  She sports some jewels that would make mere mortals green with envy.  Yes, the BVM at the altar is standing on the silver float in 'the treasury'.

 

To thine self(ie) be true

We have officially crossed the Rubicon.  We're old.  We're also, apparently, the only two people visiting Sevilla this week who are not featured in every photo taken by cameras/phones/tablets.  Half of the travelers are using selfie sticks.  Another quarter are using phones for their selfies.  That leaves all the visitors from Asia.  They're using tablets to take their own picture over and over and over again.  The upside of this is that we get to see everything we want to see without anyone else getting in the way.  We're virtually alone while we soak in the incredible beauty.

Today, we headed to the Real Alcazar and the cathedral.  Lines for both snaked half way to our hotel.  Both are across the street from the hotel, fortunately, so we were inside within 5 minutes in each instance.

The Alcazar is still used by the royal family when they're in Seville.  No signs of them today, but we enjoyed their digs.   More than the palace itself, the royal gardens were incredible.  The tropical plantings (Terry pointed out that there was not a weed in sight) were dotted with fountains and 'water channels' with the overall effect being a peaceful, cool space in the middle of the city.  Maybe it was the 30 foot high wall surrounding the gardens and keeping out the riff-raff that lent to the quiet.  Peacocks roamed the grounds freely.  Fortunately, Terry couldn't find any dandelions--his usual 'bait'--to entice the royal poultry into his clutches.



The cathedral is pretty impressive (the larges gothic cathedral in the world), but its star attraction is, without a doubt, the tomb of Columbus.  His remains (what's left of them--as he has parts scattered all over the place) are held aloft by four kings of Aragon, Navarre, Castille and whatever the other one is.    Monday was a national holiday...the day he discovered the new world.  He, of course, died never knowing that he hadn't found his route to the far east.  Someone should have told him.


Day two and we've found 'our routine'.  After siesta, we head out for drinks and tapas. Every place serves tapas, but the quality and reputation varies pretty wildly.  Few of the waiters are forthcoming with their English skills, so we have to make due with my quasi-Spanish.  At least they don't laugh.  They bring food without asking me to repeat myself.  That's something.  On the other hand, we never really know for sure that we're eating what we think we're eating.  You can spend an evening going from bar to bar feasting on small plates and never hit $30.  This could become a habit...easily.

 

 

 

Running for it (shades of zummo de naranja)

Well, we made it.  Barely.  For the first time in our travels, we actually RAN from gate to gate this morning in Madrid to catch our flight to Sevilla.  Oddly, the flight from Chicago to Madrid landed only 14 minutes late and the gate agent told us we'd missed the flight (although it wasn't scheduled to depart for another 30 minutes) and we would be rescheduled on the next  available flight...at 6:30 tonight).  That wasn't going to work for us, so she told us we could try RUNNING, but we still wouldn't make it.  We love a challenge...so, off we ran--shades of OJ (without the murder of an ex-wife and her male companion). I'm not talking a mild fast walk/jog.  I'm talking full bore racing--the likes of which the two of us haven't done in decades. The first hurdle--passport control.  We were the first two passengers from our flight to arrive and not a soul was ahead of us...we were through in less than 10 seconds.  That was followed by a race to the tram that would take us to the next terminal. We were crestfallen at the sound of the 'doors are closing' chimes.  Fortunately, another tram would arrive in 4 minutes.  That was four minutes for the sweat to begin soaking through the clothes that we'd been in for a day.  At the departure terminal we had to, of course, go through screening again.  They were champs.  After that, a bolt to the departure gate (as always, the furthest from where we were).  We arrive at the gate and the door is closed.  The plane is there, but they've marked 'departed' on the screen.  I don't know if it was the sight of two sweating guys near sixty or the fear of having to listen to more of my horrid Spanish, but they opened the gate door and the jet door.  We'd made it.  Sure, we suffered the inevitable eye-rolls from those already seated, but they seemed to have pity on the two guys who appeared to have just stepped out of a sauna--both toting too much luggage.

We've only taken a cursory walk around the 'hood and had a light bite. We're in Santa Cruz(the old Jewish quarter) at a charming little hotel.  The view from the room balcony makes it seem like the cathedral is on top of us.  I'll post some pics later (after a well-earned siesta).

 

The cathedral and La Giralda

Sure, the carriages are charming.  Imagine the clomping hours on end.