There is no better excuse to be a tourist in your own city than having visitors to show around. Not that Robin and I have been living in Sevilla long enough to have gotten over sight-seeing, but our focus has been more on establishing ourselves here and wandering the streets to get a general feel for the place, rather than seeing all the famous must-sees of the city, and we purposefully left the main tourist attractions here unvisited since we knew Rob’s parents would be coming in the spring. At any rate, we certainly have seen a lot cultural sites in the past couple of weeks.
We started out with Sevilla’s enormous cathedral – the largest cathedral in the world, in fact, and third largest church in the world (since the other two are not the seats of bishops, they are not considered cathedrals… or something like that). In typical Andalucian fashion, it was once a Muslim mosque, though most of the structure was rebuilt in the Gothic style in the fifteenth century. The Catholics had already been using the former-mosque for a couple of hundred years at that point, having gained control of Sevilla during the thirteenth century, 
but they decided to reconstruct almost everything under the pretext that the building was in much need of repair. However, they did keep the original Moorish minaret, converting it into a bell-tower—and christened La Giralda—and the courtyard of orange trees, interspersed with fountains and irrigation channels. Local legend claims that the members of the cathedral who decided to rebuild in a purely Christian style said, “Let us build a church so beautiful and so grand that those who see it finished will think us mad.”
It certainly was awing to enter such a vast, echoing and ornate chamber, and the views from the top of the Giralda reached far across the city of white buildings and terracotta roofs. The cathedral also houses the remains of Christopher Columbus, although we read in Rob’s parents’ Lonely Planet that some of his bones may actually lie buried in the Dominican Republic as well, since DNA testing on the bones has revealed both burial sites as containing his remnants.
The cathedral was undoubtedly impressive; however, the palaces and gardens of the Real Alcázar of Sevilla impressed us all even more. Though the cathedral appealed to my imagination and evoked days of old with its hushed, dimly lit halls, it was the Alcázar that really conjured images of ancient kings and queens living long ago, moving through the same dazzling rooms and gardens as crowds 
of camera-clad tourists do today. The modern day Spanish royal family still uses certain floors of the Alcázar, making it Europe’s oldest royal palace still in use. The entire site lies concealed from the rest of the city by a large wall which encircles the network of palaces and gardens. They too were once a Moorish stronghold, and much of the Muslim love of geometric shapes, tile-work and water features remain. The Christians constructed another palace in the mid-1300s, and added to existing ones, so certain sections of the Alcázar are almost entirely Gothic, and the gardens are arranged in different cultural styles, ranging from traditional to modern (including a small labyrinth which I thoroughly enjoyed wandering through).
Rob’s mum and I enjoyed the Alcázar so much that we returned to visit it again before she left Sevilla.
The last event that we had saved for the visit of Rob’s parents was a professional flamenco show, which we attended on their last night in Sevilla. It was incredible. The guitarist wooed the audience with soft lulls and wild rasqueos, weaving the notes together seamlessly and leading us from crescendos to a soft tickle of the 
strings with amazing dexterity. The singer’s voice was rich and gritty, and his long hair and expressive face added to the atmospheric story conjured by his song. Both the female and male flamenco dancers pounded the stage, or tablao, with their high-heeled shoes and twirled, paused and clapped with such passion that you could not help but feel its effect, causing nearly overwhelming surges of emotion to bubble up in the chest at times. Its moving intensity surprised us all.
By the end of the two weeks that Rob’s mamá y papá spent in Sevilla, we all felt very satisfied with our exploration of local cultural buildings and customs, and were ready to explore Granada… a tale for next time!
evokes a sense of the wild west, with dusty dirt roads, horses and ladies in beautiful dresses with full ruffles at the bottom. The women also wear huge painted flowers atop their heads and tasseled shawls which shimmy in time with their hips (which are hugged tightly by myriad colours and patterns, with polka dots as a strong favourite). Men mill about in suits and ties, while others ride horses in broad brimmed hats and grey vests. Whole families ride slowly along the streets in carriages, their horses decorated with bells and pompoms.
by huge floats, or pasos—carried on the shoulders of robust and devout young men—depicting figures of crying Mary and crucified Jesus, surrounded by candles, silver and gold lattice work and fresh roses. The feria, however, is not religious in nature, nor as old a tradition as Semana Santa. It began in the mid 1800s as a livestock fair, but quickly transformed into an excuse for a big party. Its purpose today seems to be dressing up in flamenco wear and heading out to a fair-ground to enjoy music, dancing, drinking, eating and general all-day, late-night, wee-hours Spanish merry-making.
I have unpacked everything, found places for things, hung our Sunshine Coast calendar on the wall, and begun to settle in and stretch out like a cat in its favourite box. There is a desk to write at, space to practice yoga, and two balconies with wrought iron railings to lean out over and watch the scurrying day unravel below. We can reach the Spanish school in a five minute walk, the river flows wide and deep a block or so away, and this old apartment—with high ceilings, a quirky mix of furniture, sloping floors—is large enough to give private lessons or small group classes in English and yoga. The plan for finding work is developing. We have ventured deeper into the country, seen the coast, explored another city. We have made a few friends, both Spanish and foreign. The days grow longer and the sun shines hot in the afternoons and the breeze rocks the open windows gently back and forth. Things are coming together.
cracking the tops of crème brulée and things like that—not that I have had any crème brulée, but I have enjoyed other sensual food moments like slicing up strawberries and bananas and eating them with honey, or cooking myself a mushroom risotto with a glass of a wine and music. Moments like those make me feel independent and chic, but also a bit like a kid who has finally been deemed old enough to be left home alone. Either way, a bit of solo dancing round the kitchen lends itself to making the most of a night by yourself.
cloud at last this week, and shines as though it is here to stay. “Nature knows best,” an old Sevillan man told me as I waited in front of the Spanish school one afternoon with a group of students, all talking about the recent weather changes. “The olive trees, the orange blossoms, the fruits of the harvest need the rain! Soon the sun will scorch everything—you will see—it will be hot and dry until October. Nature knows best.”
many Sevillanos, and we found that it lived up to all praise. The Arab influence on Andalucía is especially evident in this city, particularly in the many water features throughout the city. Water is extremely important in Islam, as a symbol of purity, as a means to cleanse the body and as the source of life for all living things. The tiny stone alleyways apparently also come from the Arabs, which are common in Sevilla as well, but Córdoba is much smaller and lower in building height, giving it a small town feel and making it a truly charming place to wander through.
purpose has changed) on top of a wide, sweeping hill in southern Spain. Several towns are visible beyond the red and green swathes of crops and fields, and it is about an hour and a half from Sevilla. The view is incredible in every direction.
eek were thoroughly infused with the Spanish spirit. Strolling and wandering, enjoying afternoon sweets before dinner, reading in the sun, and hours of drinking and eating—it was a lovely way to catch up with an old friend and to enjoy the Sevillan way of leisure before moving on to a more austere lifestyle over next few weeks. But for now, to bed! Buenas noches.
Tegan Bethune 