Plucky Survivors See Europe Day 55: Seville

It’s official.  I’m in love with Seville.

Last night I took some photos I took from my terrace.  The red glow you see in the distance is Setas de Sevilla, the wooden structure that hosts an immersive light and sound show every night.  I was going to go out but it was so lovely and quiet I just sat on the terrace and worked and read and looked around.  I could get used to that.

What I wasn’t expecting this morning was a flood.  I want the beautiful, huge shower that my room has and spent a lot of time luxuriating in it this morning, only to open the door and discover that the entire bathroom was filled with about half an inch of water.  Two housekeepers, most of the towels they were going to use for this floor, a wet/dry vac, and a maintenance person later and it was cleaned up and (supposedly) fixed.  I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.

I got over that and went out to explore more of Seville.

I started in the old town and Jewish quarter areas near my hotel that surround the Catedral de Sevilla and Alcazar de Sevilla.  The former is a beautiful cathedral built around 1500 and is still active today.  They were only allowing visitors into restricted areas because there was a funeral.  I don’t know, if it were me, I would’ve been like, “sure, let the tourists have a look.  I’m dead, what do I care?”

Alcazar is the royal palace complex, which was built between 1248 and 1360 on the site of a 10^th century Islamic citadel.  It is still one of the residences of the Spanish royal family today.  The line to get into the place for a tour was crazy long and I didn’t feel like wasting an hour in a queue, so I kept walking. 

Alcazar is the royal palace complex, which was built between 1248 and 1360 on the site of a 10^th century Islamic citadel.  It is still one of the residences of the Spanish royal family today.  The line to get into the place for a tour was crazy long and I didn’t feel like wasting an hour in a queue, so I kept walking. 

Keep walking and you’ll come to a wide boulevard next to the Hotel Alfonso XIII, which dates back to 1929 and was built for the Ibero-American Exposition.

Behind that hotel is Murillo Gardens, a peaceful park.

Across the street from that is Parque de Maria Luisa, a much larger green space that is sort of Seville’s Central Park.  It has museums, monuments, fountains, ponds, footbridges, wildlife, and more with the centerpiece being Plaza de Espana, a huge plaza and buildings also built for the exposition of 1929.  Today they are government offices and the subject of a lot of tourist photos.

It was past lunchtime by the time I had explored, so I made my way up the street toward Mercado del Arenal, a food market about a mile away.  This gave me a chance to get a view of the Canal de Alfonso XIII, a waterway through the city.  The Spanish Galleon?  Part of the maritime museum along the canal.

It was on this walk that I saw the advertisement for the Simpsons KFC monstrosity known as Rosquiburger. It’s only available in Spain and Portugal and has fried chicken, cheese, and bacon but instead of regular buns it has pink frosted donuts.  I still don’t know what to do with that, but even as hungry as I was, I wasn’t that hungry.

Sadly, making it to Mercado del Arenal didn’t help because most of it was closed due to this being Saint James’ Day, a regional holiday.  The person at the one café that was open told me that Mercado de Triana, located just across the canal, was open.  I was going to head there after lunch anyway, so off I went.

The Triana neighborhood is usually very vibrant, according to everything I’ve read, with their own independent culture and customs.  Locals don’t consider themselves as part of Seville, they are Triana.  A lot of stuff was closed here, also, but the market was open and I got myself a bacon and cheese empanada that was exactly what I needed.

By that point it was late afternoon, it was getting toasty outside, and I had walked about five miles, so I called an Uber to get me back to the hotel.  Along the way, the radio played a Spanish version of “I Will Survive.”  If you’re reading this on Facebook, there’s a video.  You’re welcome.

I felt a little better about my driving fail yesterday when the Uber driver couldn’t do any better.  We drove around in circles for quite some time until I used Google Translate to tell him that I would just get out and walk the rest of the way.

I relaxed a bit and then headed out for dinner at the nearby Bacao, a Spanish/Mediterranean restaurant where I had the most incredible single tapas I’ve had while in the country.  It was a super soft brioche bun stuffed with shredded pork ribs and smoked chipotle mayo.  When I tell you I devoured that, I’m not being hyperbolic.  I think people were concerned about me.

For the main course I had aged beef meatballs with foie and wine sauce on a bed of mashed potatoes.  Also fantastic.

On my way back, I stopped in at a souvenir shop and bought a red ceramic bull, but not because I approve of bullfighting.

Growing up, my parents had some, well… we’ll call it “unique” décor in the family room involving black velvet bullfighter paintings and a red ceramic bull and toreador.  Why?  I have no idea.  You’d think I would’ve asked where it all came from at some point, but if I did, I’ve forgotten the explanation.  It was just a part of the background scenery for my entire childhood.  I don’t know what ever became of them – they probably got thrown out when my parents moved from Iowa to Florida or from there to Las Vegas, but when I saw the red bulls in the shop window I had to get one.  At least mine will have an origin story.

Tomorrow, I venture into country number eleven as I drive from Seville to Lisbon, Portugal.