Spanish Tales II: Seville and Barcelona

Dear Friends and Family,

It seems that I can only put so many pictures in one blog, so again we're splitting this one on Spain into two; hope we don't wear your patience down!

Toledo was just an overnight so we had a couple hours upon arrival back in Madrid before our train to Seville. Rance raced over to the Reina Sophia museum to quickly see a painting called Guernica, Picasso’s depiction of attack by German air force Condor legion on an unarmed Basque village during the Spanish civil war. I sat happily with bags, book, and time to people watch. The picture is very moving in an abstract way – Picasso would not let it be displayed in Spain until democracy returned after the death of Franco. There were several other very interesting Picassos. Joan Miros and Salvatore Dalis there, too. I discovered that looking at them with my double vision made them seem even stranger – wonder if Picasso painted them under that affliction?

The train ride to Seville was great – we splurged on a 1st class Eurail pass and got properly spoiled on our way.

Our hotel in Seville is the very best yet – the Hotel Amadeus – and we were in a junior suite named Mozart 201. It’s a VERY good thing it’s as charming and comfortable as it is because we were really quite exhausted after schlepping our bags at least half a mile over cobblestone streets. After loading our bags into a cab at the train station, the driver nodded with what looked like full knowledge of where we wanted to go. However, after driving to and through an undesirable section of town – and back through that section of town we figured that we were learning Spanish from the little lady on his GPS, and she was saying “Wrong way, stupid. Go back!” We gave him the address once again and he turned off the GPS and headed for the old city – which is where we knew we wanted to go. Now then – he drove up a tiny street where cars shouldn’t be allowed to go, but do – and indicated that he couldn’t go any further, but that our hotel was just ahead a bit and then on the right. WRONG!! The guy had just given up in despair and wanted us out of his cab – needless to say he didn’t charge the meter rate but a quarter of it. Rance was ready to get out of the guy’s cab, since he was obviously out of his element, and we knew we had to hike a bit anyway since the hotel was advertised as being in a pedestrian alley. So with the cab driver making vague shooing motions and advising “A la reche”, I left Susan where she was with the bags and set off on a voyage of discovery. After several turns and a few hundred yards I found another hotel where the attendant gave me a map and some sympathy and sent me further on my way. First I headed back to where my now not so loving wife was not so patiently waiting, and brought her along part of the way. I had to make several rather complex turns to find her, and wondered for a moment how I would explain to the kids if I never found my way back to her – I’d probably have to check the white slavery ads for a clue. After reaching her we schlepped the bags on for a few hundred meters and through numerous even more complex turns, until I felt that we were close enough to leave her behind again, while I searched on. This time we were successful, finding our boutique hotel on a tiny side alley, and it was a happy moment when we finally checked in. I told the wonderful woman at the desk what had happened, and even showed her on the map how far away the cabbie had left us – her comment was “Oh what an evil man!” Indeed he was, but he provided us with another laugh (in retrospect!) as well another note to our adventure.

Seville was our favorite city in Spain. Large enough to offer plenty of the old world culture, as well as excellent accommodations, food and drink.

The Hotel Amadeus was definitely our favorite. The lobby and entrance area was outfitted with musical instruments, befitting the theme of the hotel. There were probably no more than 15 rooms total in the hotel, and we had splurged on the best one: absolutely charming penthouse junior suite, complete with claw foot bathtub right in the living area and a toilet and bidet on either side of a shower area (these were behind doors)

After a lovely breakfast served on the roof of our hotel, we were in what is called the Jewish Quarter, an amazing tangle of tiny streets and quaint plazas lined with restaurants and shops. The parks were lovely, filled with fragrant flowers and plants. We walked through one on our way to the Alcazar, and then went into this old palace/fortress. This palace is still the Sevillian home of the Spanish king and is huge, with many rooms all decorated in the combined Moorish Spanish style we had come to appreciate. Each time you would think the palace must end, you’d be led into another gorgeous room, or out into the lovely garden, all surrounded by walls isolating it from the city. From there, after a very nice lunch nearby (best meatballs I ever had), we walked along the river past the bullring. Seville had been the center of trade with the new world and we walked by the “Tower of Gold” where the ships would unload the gold stripped from the Peruvian sites we had admired so the week before. We walked and walked, twisting our ways through the lovely little streets and stopping to admire the various churches and buildings. My goal was to find a place selling Cuban cigars, and we succeeded in that - my only shopping wish!

While in Seville, one MUST attend a flamenco dance, which we did – again, once we found the place. We’re both pretty good at reading street maps, but I am certain one must live in Toledo or Seville for a lifetime before being able to walk directly from point A to point B. This wasn’t much of a concern to Rance since he never likes to go the same way twice anyway – afraid of ambush, you know!

The performance was fun to watch – beautiful women with colorful dresses and dark hair pulled straight back; skinny men with floppy hair and red shoes – all with very talented, fast moving feet. The singers and guitar players were also good but unfortunately for them they fall to the background.

We weren’t leaving until the next afternoon, so we had saved a visit to the Cathedral until the next morning. Unlike the one in Toledo which was hidden by its neighboring houses, the Sevillian one is set off on a lovely square so one can appreciate it from all angles, including its tower with the gorgeous figure who turns as a weather vane, giving it its name of La Giralda. The Cathedral is breathtaking on the inside, with its vaulted arches so high overhead, and an alter that was so rich it could barely be taken in all at once. Each side alter alone would have been the crowning jewel of any other church. We took the audio tour, and would gladly have passed more time there if the train ride had not called.

Another pleasant ride on the fast train to Barcelona where we arrived and settled into the much bigger hotel, Hotel Colon, which was right on a main square just across from Barcelona’s cathedral (new city; new cathedral) It was much easier to find our way around Barcelona, but we missed the charm of the smaller city/winding street setup of Toledo and Barcelona. There were also noticeably more tourists here, but strangely, we haven’t run into many Americans. In light of our popularity world-wide right now (thank you, Mr. Bush!), and the weakened dollar, most smart folks are probably discovering more of the States.

We visited La Rambla, the main tourist street, with its innumerable living statues and Monte Carlo players (guess which box has the stone under it – one tried to sucker Susan into the play, but she quickly and wisely stepped back).

We also noticed some men selling their wares from a cloth spread before them, with lines running down to the cloth’s corners – I called them street fishermen. At first we thought the lines were to secure the objects from being stolen, but then realized that it was so they could quickly pull up the cloth and disappear if the tourist police arrived. La Rambla was a bit too noisy and touristy for us, but we did see some nice markets and buildings. The city is famous for its architects, most noticeably Gaudi, so we dutifully visited his Sacred Family Cathedral as well as some of his other buildings. The cathedral was begun in 1886 and is still a long way from being finished, but fantastic in its concept and effect. Gaudi’s buildings are a good distance from the city center, so this made for a very nice long walk back to the hotel, well away from the hustle of La Rambla, and set us up nicely for dinner.
And reporting again on the food and drink, we enjoyed some really nice seafood here – paella, grilled prawn (complete with head and little feelers), and Rance even had a plate of anchovies one day for lunch. That was it – anchovies on a plate with an olive for garnish. That’s one day we didn’t share our meal! After Rance’s long reports on the culture part of this blog, one would think we didn’t have time for anything else, but sitting outside our hotel with tired feet at the end of a day sipping sangria, reading The International Herald Tribune and watching the people has been a luxury. Off to France now, with a really nice feeling about our visit to Spain. Would love to come back, especially after learning a bit of Spanish! But again, there’s no place like home!