Fall has blown into the north countries on cool wings, picking the crisp red leaves off the trees and gathering them together in wet heaps on rainy afternoons. Here in southern Spain, autumn has thus far revealed itself to be more like a lovely, Canadian west coast summer than anything else, albeit shorter in daylight hours. The streets here are filled with people again, enjoying the bright afternoons and balmy evenings, and the city echoes with the din of voices, the clinking of glasses, and the scrape of cutlery over small tapas plates. Rob and I are back in the Sevilla we dreamed about.

But we are literally back here as well, having recently been out of the country. Our summer has actually turned out to be a rather adventuresome one. You might think that this would have lent itself to more blog writing with all that material, but in reality I haven’t been able to keep up a weekly post due to all the action (with a bit of lying around and roasting in-between travels and visits—the slothful effect of that summer heat can’t be underestimated!). But things are starting back up again, from giving English lessons as students return from holidays to reestablishing good yoga habits. In getting the blog-writing gears up and running as well, I feel as though a little review of the past couple months’ adventures is in order.

After we got back from Germany and Denmark, only a couple of weeks passed before we climbed onto a toilet-less but air-conditioned bus to Lisbon, or Lisboa in Portuguese (it sounds like “leesh-boa” ), which we discovered to be a charming city. The hills reminded us of San Francisco, or maybe it was the great red bridge that was designed by the same architect who built the Golden Gate, and used the exact same design and style in Lisbon, resulting in an essentially identical sister bridge. Either way, we love San Francisco so the association was a good one. We walked a lot, exploring beautiful winding alleys, numerous old churches (including a stunning roofless cathedral), and the lookouts dotted all over the city, where we would often join the locals in a beer while enjoying the views.

Lisbon lies along a huge river, so wide it feels like an ocean strait, which was a lovely reminder of home. It was not only the city’s beauty, however, that left us dreaming of our time there after we had left; it took a while before I stopped longing for Portuguese pastry! The pastel de nata, or pastel de Belem, is a famous wee tart—flaky, crispy on the outside with the smoothest creamy filling—that had us hooked pretty quickly. The first day Rob and I tried one with a morning coffee. The coffee was good and the pastel was delicious, so we went back to the same café the next day and this time each ate one and a half. Next time it was two each, and when we were joined by one of our best friends who was travelling in Europe, we all were eating at least three a day. I did feel a bit sick after this new practice (not surprising considering I’m allergic to dairy, and incidentally I have since decided not to make any more exceptions for ethical/environmental reasons as well my health), but that certainly didn’t taint the memory of the famously scrumptious pastel de nata.

The three of us did visit one more place in Portugal before heading to Sevilla together, but it’s not worth dwelling on… I’ll just say that Lagos is packed with partying tourists in August, and depending on your (overpriced) hostel, bedbugs too.

Once in Sevilla, we all settled in together for a week or two, partaking in activities such as: washing all the bed sheets and trying not to scratch ourselves raw; a bit of street wandering and a bit more laying low in the flat as the day’s heat passed; eating tapas and searching for Portuguese bakeries; a few nights in a nearby town camping and lying on the beach; visiting with some of Rob’s friends from Australia who also were travelling in Spain; and just enjoying each other’s company.

When Rob and I first found ourselves alone in our flat again we didn’t quite know what to do with ourselves. Goodbyes are sad of course, and I didn’t have many English lessons to teach with most of my students still on vacation. Furthermore, there was no sign of the cooler days I associate with a coming fall, and the heat was still too oppressive to feel like getting out much. But we didn’t have long before we were off again on another trip, this time to Scotland.

We spent most of our time in beautiful Edinburgh. The Old Town and New Town—divided by a leafy, valley park—hint at the interesting history of this city, the remnants of which can be seen all over the place. The castle looks down from the highest point of the city centre, perched atop the end of the Royal Mile. I like to recall it as it looks in the evening, when the last, low rays of the September sunshine turn rich and yellow, and the castle is the last place illuminated before it is wrapped in chilly shadow.

    
Edinburgh feeds a writer’s imagination, with its narrow closes and medieval churches (stepping into St. Giles cathedral felt like transporting back in time, where I half expected to see Arthur’s knights bowing their head in prayer before riding off to battle). The Writers’ Museum in Lady Stair’s Close certainly helps as well, where one can get lost in the life stories of Burns, Scott, and R. L. Stevenson, easily imagining how the city looked in their times.

Edinburgh is a place I have been before, and holds many fond memories for me. It has symbolized a place of friendship for me, associated with cosy dinners and conversation, laughter among old and new friends, and this visit happily preserved these warm traditions.

So, we are returning to Sevilla filled up with the glow of good times, and we have certainly appreciated our welcome into sunny, perfectly warmed days and festive moonlit nights. October is now underway, which means we have been living in Spain for nine months now! It seems that time made a dash for it during all these comings and goings. Oh well, así es—we had better stay put for the rest of the Sevilla chapter.