Visits to markets are a must! They are the heartbeat of any thriving village, town or city.  Vibrant … full of bustle and shouts …  colour and smell — it almost grabs and pulls you inside.  Fruits and vegetables arranged as carefully as any painted masterpiece — polished, turned, placed for best effect. The prized corner stalls have probably been run by the same family for decades.  In Triana, their names and commodities are emblazoned in tile across the wall above.  It’s a feast for the senses to just wander … although the temptation to buy something … anything … is overwhelming.  Butchers … fishmongers … their counters gleaming

with an assortment of meat and fish we can only dream about in North America … Delicatessens with rows of whole Iberian jamon hanging tantalizingly (it’s a pleasure to watch the skill of slicing) … and a mind-boggling array of cured sausages and meats.  This article gives you just a taste:  https://viewfromlavila.com/2018/03/17/more-than-just-chorizo-a-guide-to-spanish-cold-meats/

And permeating everything are the heady aromas of roasting coffee, frying food … and freshly baked bread!

Surely, this must be one of the most photographed arches in all of Spain … Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!  We saw no fewer than three  people taking snaps in the space of as many minutes.  Then, down a tiny, inauspicious lane, a doorway with spiraling red and blue sign — what I had been hoping for  — The Barber of Seville!  Glorious!

The Casa de Pilatos  __  was worth a visit, although there was an unexpected event in progress when we arrived and it wouldn’t reopen for another hour (we caught a glimpse through the window of  a woman in the most wonderful flame-orange flamenco dress , photographers and sound equipment).  Wandering down a nearby street we uncovered just the thing to while away the time — a secluded outside alcove with two tables — and tiny coffee shop-cum-tea room attached.  They certainly have an eclectic menu – anything from jamon, eggs and tapas, to churros, sandwiches and crepes.  Perhaps our choice of lemon and sugar coated crepes and a cup of tea was a little unusual …  but it worked.  Thin, tangy and positively delicious.  Proper loose tea, too.

Opening of the Pilatos was delayed just a bit … but it’s always interesting to watch people as they wait.  There are the ones who stand patiently in line, chatting quietly … others seem to ‘expand’ into the space having loud conversations

among themselves or on their phones … then there are the impatient ones — pointedly looking at their watches, tutting loudly, and repeatedly checking with the ticket clerk.  Some take the inconvenience as a normal happenstance – wandering off to find a place to sit, or look through their guidebook for their next stop.  Always fun to guess nationalities just from observing … sometimes quite incorrectly, I might add.

Leaving the warren of narrow streets which are naturally shaded by the two or three storied buildings, the blast of heat was almost physical … there is a good 8-10 degree difference in temperature.  An ice cream wouldn’t come amiss . . . . oh look, there’s an Heladeria on the corner!  We chose two sorbets — mandarin and mango — in handmade cones.  It was just like eating fruit right off the trees … and it should be mandatory to have cones made this way!

The city at night was fun … first the Cathedral and then on to Plaza de Espana.   It was a warm, velvety evening and we had the place almost to ourselves — just a few people like us strolling through.  It was even more impressive at night … the lights of the bridges reflected in the inky black water … the echoing clop of an occasional horse carriage.

Heading back over the Puente de Tirana for the last time — what did we see but two National Police cars pulled up haphazardly onto the sidewalk …  so they could visit the Churros place across the street.  Churros/Donuts – seems there’s no difference.

We have walked, cycled and eaten our way around Sevilla the last 4 days, and loved every minute.  It has definitely won our hearts.

Now, on to Jerez.

Having been captivated by Antequera … could Seville do the same, I wonder?

What better way to see a city, than by bike … so we rented two from Antonio.  Seville has over 150 kms of bike routes throughout and surrounding the the old city centre, and they are well used by visitors and residents alike.  For the most the most part lanes are painted green with bi-directional arrows , and often appear on both sides of the roads – separated from cars by a good solid curb.  However, on cobblestones for example, the paths are marked with rows of shiny metal disks – not always easy to delineate (for bikers and pedestrians alike).  Sometimes, you just have to share with pedestrians as the paths merge.  Spanish drivers are courteous … pedestrians are not!

We started off cautiously, and headed for the huge park surrounding the Plaza de Espana  https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plaza_de_Espa%C3%B1a_(Sevilla)

Tree-filled, wide sandy avenues, grottos with waterfalls, rows of ducks sunning themselves on the mosaic sides of

water courses (not intended for such purpose!) … and no traffic other than bikes, horse-drawn carriages and people.  Rounding a corner we skidded to a halt, as the splendor of the vast, curved edifice unfolded before our eyes.  It is truly staggering.  The roofs, every balustrade, bridge and the panels depicting all major towns and cities across the country are created in ceramic painted tiles made right here in Triana.  Off to the right … having found the perfect acoustic alcove … sat a guitarist.  Every classical note clear and sweet.  We propped up the bikes

and listened.  As we dropped a handful of coins into his case, I asked how long he had been playing guitar — 33 years.  First Rock, then Blues and now Classical — he grinned as he gave a quick snippet of each.  Such talent.

Riding closer for a look at that magnificent facade …  there, under one of the protruding balconies … a flourish of impromptu flamenco.  Staccato clapping of hands … a firey stamp, and toss of the head … a swirl of skirt … the swell and throb of the guitar and singer.  They had gathered quite a crowd.  Two ladies … obviously both flamencas at a younger age … joyfully swooped and spun in front of me.  What a delight.   As the music and dance ended with a final crescendo, it was discouraging to see how many people quickly melted away with nary a coin being shared … yet they’d been only too pleased to photograph and film the excellent performance.  We’d originally rented the bikes for two hours — figuring we’d be tired by that point, but not so.  A phone call to Antonio extended our time a further 4+ hours (remember, everything closes between 2:30 and 5:30 … even bike rentals!)

Leaving the safety of the gardens, we sallied forth in search of lunch.  Yesterday we’d spotted a Lebanese restaurant right across the road from the University of Seville.   The mouth-watering aromas wafting out of the kitchen necessitated further investigation. There was an outdoor table with room to park bikes right alongside.  We settled on a Tabbouleh salad and lamb kebab wraps … and were not disappointed!  Bursting with freshly-prepared herbs, vegetables and just the right amount of Bulgar wheat, and melt-in-the-mouth skewers of lamb in flatbreads.  Oh my!  And who could leave without trying even one of their baklava, so we didn’t – we had two.  As we sat savouring our food, lineups of people waited patiently for an available table.  We’d timed it just right.

Now, to wear off all those glorious calories … off we plunged into the turmoil of the busy streets that circumnavigate the city.  Traffic thundered by just a few feet away … separated — but only just.  The bike lanes thronged with commuters – both cyclists and electric scooters … overtaking, dodging in and out of the on-coming lane.  Definitely kept brakes at the ready!  Away from the river it’s less polished and more ‘lived in’ … there are fewer sidewalk cafes and more construction … a  touch grubbier perhaps, but it’s more neighbourhood-orientated.  Smaller, more intimate churches, bars and restaurants.

Back along the other side of the river … past a rather sad-looking Magic Island complex … presumably some sort of amusement park – complete with a defunct rocket from the European Space Agency – but with an air of neglect. Did it close up for the winter, or was it something more permanent?

By 4:30 it had become very muggy … we couldn’t return the bikes yet, so we found a shaded bench along the river bank and sat sipping our water while watching the river-life.  One private yacht-for-rent could be heard long before it put in an appearance.  With a captive audience of a dozen or so on the upper deck, two flamenco singer/guitarists – amplified to the maximum — wailed and warbled enthusiastically .  What they lacked in talent, they made up for in volume.  Forcing their audience (and people on the shore) to endure, with no hope of escape, as the boat drifted first upstream, then back down!

With bikes safely returned, we only had 20 minutes until our ticket time at the cathedral (we hadn’t planned on an all day bike tour when booking!).  Weaving through the crowded streets with pedestrians heading determinedly towards drinks and food, we arrived with 5 minutes to spare . . . . but to the wrong entrance.  The one we wanted was completely on the other side . . .  and this building takes up an entire city block!

Tackling the tower first (it closes at 7:00) there were no steps this time, but a series of 37 upward slopes and right-angle turns … puff, puff. Great 360 views, and the tower still possesses it’s carillon of bells in all sizes.  Surely they aren’t still used while people are up here?  Just in case, we made sure to descend before the 7:00 pm cutoff.  And just as well, too.  Precisely on the hour a great clamour arose overhead as the smaller bells on all four sides rang out … as though the Gates of Hades had just opened. Talk about closing time!  I bet anyone still up there would have been deaf for a week.

The interior of the cathedral was impressive in regards size and architecture, but it didn’t have the feeling and soul of Barcelona’s Sagrada.  One very pleasant bonus to having a late tour, is the quiet and lack of other visitors.  Time to sit and contemplate.

Wearily we trudged back across the bridge into Triana.  It had been a long day … but lunch had been quite a while ago.  Antonio, a native son of Triana, had highly recommended a bar which did the absolute BEST tapas.  It was ten to eight when we arrived and the sign in the window quite clearly stated Cerrado … even though all the tables outside (but one) were occupied.  As we stood undecided, an older senor pointed at the table and asked if we were taking it, his intentions of commandeering it were clear.  In through the window we could see food being arranged on the counters in preparation of opening …. “no, no, no …  esta ocupada!” … and we sat our bottoms down and waited with anticipation.

Fearing a repeat of the other night, we ordered with confidence — not wishing to appear dithery tourists.  Beer first . . . then some tapas.  Maybe something with vegetables  – that salad mix might be good … and you can’t go wrong with lamb skewers.  Er … in hindsight, what I thought was a salad consisting of radishes, beets, and zucchini was in actual fact an ‘either or’ selection.  The radishes were very fresh, mind .. and perfectly seasoned with olive oil and salt … and they certainly cleared the palate (and the sinuses) <grin>  Oh well, you can’t win ’em all!   But the lamb! Goodness, what flavour – and cooked to perfection.  I asked if they had flans, (we’ve been unable find find any yet!) but sadly no . . . so we ordered more tapas instead.  Chipirones (baby squid) in green sauce (herbs).  I don’t think either of us have had squid that tender before.  What a day . . . bicycles, guitars, flamenco and outstanding food.

Just a short hour’s drive, and we were in Seville. We are staying in the Barrio de Triana – a neighbourhood just across the Guadalquivir River … considered by local Trianeros to be equally as important as the main city itself – if not more so!   https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triana,_Seville

Less touristy and famous for its potteries and the fabulously colourful tilework which can be seen on every building,

street sign church and bar. This is where locals live, work, eat, shop . . . and sit over beer and tapas with friends in the evening.

How lucky is that! … we found an honest-to-goodness legal street parking spot, and only a couple of blocks away. We retrieved the apartment keys from the bar on the corner,and trundled our ever-increasing possessions along noisy cobble stones (carefully avoiding the doggie deposits). With only four days to explore, we were determined not to waste a minute of them, so the bags were dumped, and we headed out.

The afternoon was perfect. A quick perusal of the market, but it was late in the day and most of the stalls were tightly shuttered — only the restaurant booths were still in full swing. The Puente de Triana (bridge) was right next door, spanning the green river which was a-buzz with virtually anything that could float and be propelled by human power… kayaks, canoes, rowing skulls, paddleboards — although I wonder about the wisdom of a ‘group paddleboard’!

Rowers from

Norway and Poland (I think) – judging from the flags on their oars – were training as coaches from the support boats broadcast instructions/encouragement via megaphones. People walked, sat and fished along the riverbank … and even collected after dark to picnic or chat, and watch the lights of the city.

We have tickets for the Alcazar tomorrow, but thought it prudent to scout out the route beforehand. In the Jardines de Murillo brilliant green Monk Parrots clustered in the palm trees – screeching noisily as they swooped from one tree to next. They make a huge racket when flocks of them roost for the night. The neighbouring apartment dwellers are less than enamoured. https://mappingspain.com/the-exotic-green-parrots-of-spain/

Aha … there, in the middle of the gardens, is the column commemorating Christopher Columbus (Cristóbal Colón)

with his ship The Santa Maria (La Gallega), his sponsors Ferdinand and Isabella, and the date 1492. This I remember from decades ago … a searingly hot day, where the pavement burned your feet right through sandals! Not quite so hot today – very pleasant if a little overcast.

For dinner we tried a nearby place recommended by the apartment host. We arrived suitably late, even by Spanish standards, but there were few people about. Perhaps because it was Monday? The bar – an homage to bullfighting – boasted a faded matador’s suit in a glass cabinet, various accouterments of the fight … and two massive mounted bulls’ heads on the wall … horns wickedly sharp … glass eyes glaring down accusingly. They were in a cordoned off area making photos difficult. A disinterested waiter brought beer, and then seemed to lose all interest as we deliberated on which tapas to try. We ordered more beers … these were banged down, dismissively. Stories of surly waiters abound, but this was our first encounter – perhaps he didn’t care for non-Spanish-speaking patrons. The food was … okay. The croquettas were not a patch on the ones in Barcelona … the mushroom and asparagus omelet was decidedly better,the sardinas con tomate mermelada however, were nicely smoked and very tasty. Too bad the camareros were jerks. Can’t win them all, I ‘spose.

On the other hand, the Alcazar was magnificent, and absolutely not to be missed! Busy, but not congested … phenomenal mosaics, intricately carved archways, ceilings and doors, immense tapestries, tiled water courses and vast tranquil gardens. You’d think we’d be a little complacent by now . . . but not here. This video gives you just a taste: https://youtu.be/XAp22X6-jtc

A reviving refreshment break of hot chocolate and a chicken empanada under the bougainvillea and wisteria arbor … with peacocks pecking around the tables instead of pigeons … children (and adults) were enthralled. We finally left after 4 hours … not because we’d seen everything, but because our feet needed a break.

Directly opposite, across the plaza is the magnificence that is Seville’s Cathedral with an almost never-ending line of horse-drawn carriages transporting visitors around the plaza and cathedral. The clip-clop of horse-shoes echoing off the walls.

On one of the main streets, a puppeteer with an entire orchestra – cleverly coordinated to the music — with a solo violinist taking centre stage

Further along the river bank a life-size replica of Ferdinand Magellan’s sailing ship – the Victoria – sat at anchor — this current vessel is a collaboration between Spain and Portugal to commemorate 500 years of his voyage around the world.

With a small supermercado and fruteria just a few doors down, we grabbed the makings of dinner for tonight … plump chicken thighs, red, yellow and green peppers, mushrooms, onions and tomatoes simmered with basil, oregano and a dash of piri piri chili powder. Not bad … with bread to soak up the sauce.