Friday 6 July 2012

Sevilla by Day

After a good nights rest, I spent a good amount of time this morning researching two of the many traditions that characterise Spain and especially Andalucia. Flamenco Guitar and Dance, and Tapas. Thanks to mainly TripAdvisor and Lonely Planet's websites along with some general surfing of the internet, I easily created a list of places for reconnaissance also making sure I took full advantage of this beautiful city while I wandered.

I set off weaving through the very clean, rabbit's warren of narrow, cobbled streets that are home to many small bars and restaurants and soon find myself in the canvas-covered, shopping district of Sevilla.
As everywhere in Europe literally every shop has sale banners (in Sevilla's case "rabajas") all over their windows describing the huge discounts that are available inside. I look to take advantage of prices myself as I could do with a pair of hole-free jeans and they are plentiful at 25 Euros. The main problem being they all seem to have a 34 inch inside leg as standard which is a little surprising as I feel quite tall in Spain even without my Cuban heels. I resist the jean need even though I have a sewing kit with me and continue to tick-off the tapas bars on my list as I flat-shoe stroll through the attractive old town.

As I walk in a very likely, ever-widening circle, I open into the tree-lined Avenue Carlos III and take the vine covered walk-way that separates the massive boulevard from the river.
I take my second cafe-con-leche of the morning.
As I sip, I notice the 'El Patio Sevillano' across the street, advertising 'Flamenco Clasico' and immediately inquire. El Patio was established over 60 years ago and its professional, classical guitarists and dancers will play two one and a half hour performances this evening, the first starting at 7pm.
Excellent ... I have found exactly what I was looking for and all I need now is the perfect tapas bar to follow.

I had already marked a couple of maybe's on my tapas list but as I approached 'El Rinconcillo' located on a corner in the back streets, I could feel the tapas-vibe I was looking for from 50 metres away.
I must have walked 3 to 4 kilometres by this point but when I entered the ceramic and wood clad bar, it was worth every hot-cobbled centimetre. The thankfully, air-conditioned enclave was full of chatty locals which makes it all the more perfect as I quickly realised that I was the only foreigner in the place, although the rapid, Spanish firing verbels emanating from the barman suggested he too thinks I'm a local. A common problem I encounter all over Europe especially after 5 sun-bathing days. The first small beer doesn't touch the sides and after the barman adds the cost of my second beer, with chalk,on the well-worn, wooden bar, I manage to establish from him that the place will be open well into the early hours. It simply could not be better and I am really looking forward to my flamenco-filled return.

I'm back at the hotel now and will end this missive so I can catch a two hour siesta before what is likely to be a late one in English terms. Hopefully, I'll have time before check-out tomorrow to share my Sevillian entertainment experience.

Ta ta for now xc

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