Sevilla and coming home

Pictures: 1) on the streets of Sevilla, 2) Flamenco dancer, 3) in the Alcazar gardens, 4) the beautiful railings of one of the bridges going over the moat at Plaza de Espana, 5) in Plaza de Espana, 6) the cathedral tower that Steve and I climbed, 7) Steve at one of the tower windows, 8) at the top of the tower, 9) Lieselotte and me walking in Sevilla


We arrived in Sevilla to scorching temperatures and bright sun. The bus ride to our hostel was quick and we found the place easily. The hostel was really nice - it had three floors, a rooftop lounge with hammocks and a foosball table, as well as a kitchen and breakfast. We stayed in the 9 person room on the ground floor and I got a single non-bunked bed. Yay! However, there was no AC - just a big fan, so that was less than desirable, though the temperatures weren’t too bad at night. That first day we ate a late lunch at McDonald’s because Frank was starving and he couldn’t wait. After that, Frank and Lies took naps and I headed out to look for a shop where my cousin Megan wanted me to pick up numbered house tiles for her. Unfortunately, the shop was closed and owned by new management so I couldn’t get the tiles there, but walking there (in the old Jewish quarter) let me start to see the city a bit.

Sevilla is such a quaint town - the buildings are sooo beautiful and made out of a yellowish stone which is much less imposing than the gray stone of Gothic architecture. The streets are narrow and many have sun shades hanging over them to help protect pedestrians from the summer heat.

When we came back we met two Canadians in our hostel who wanted to go see the Flamenco with us that night (it was free & about a 15 minute walk from the hostel). A German girl also joined us. Unfortunately Lieselotte got sick that day and was on antibiotics and by the time we reached the Flamenco place she wasn’t feeling well at all, so she and Frank left to find food while I stayed with the Canadian couple and the German girl. We enjoyed the show very much - the energy of the woman dancing was really amazing, and a lot of it was like tap dancing with more stomping.

When the four of us left, we were starving, and going to the nearest restaurant, we ran into Frank and Lies who were just finishing. The food was good but a bit pricey. After the Canadians, the German girl, and I finished our food we went back to the hostel to meet Lies and Frank. I went to bed shortly thereafter.

On Friday we all slept in, and then I got up and walked toward the tile place again, hoping that despite the new management they may still have the same tiles, but again they were closed. I don’t know how they make any money! On my way out of the hostel I saw a guy walking up with a backpack on his back, one on his front, and a bag in at least one of his hands. I thought he must be heading toward our hostel. When I returned from the tile place, (after having bought different ones at another store and stopping by H&M to get a few great deals), I went to the hostel where Frank and Lies were just rising. The Canadians had left that morning and now one of their bunks was replaced by the guy I saw with all the bags. We all introduced ourselves. His name was Steve and he was from Brisbane, Australia. I found this particularly amusing since that’s where Rob (my ex) was from and sounded just like him. Steve has been traveling since January and isn’t planning to return home until right before Christmas. I was wowed by how little baggage he had after he told us that, especially since he was also traveling to cold climates.

After chatting a while, I wanted to go do something in Sevilla but Lieselotte still wasn’t feeling up to par. Instead we went to the grocery store together to pick up a few things and after we dropped them off at the hostel, Steve said he’d go with me to explore, so we set out for the cathedral to climb the tower. Unfortunately it was closed because it was almost 5 pm. Instead, we continued on toward the Palace de Alcazar. The building was fabulous with intricate tile work, tucked away courtyards, and terraces that overlooked the best part of Alcazar: the gardens. The gardens had large ponds with fish as big as my arm and waterfalls; there were peacocks and ducks strutting through the thick green grass and palm trees towered over all the brilliant flowers below. Steve and I were quite impressed. We wished we had more time to spend there, but they closed at 7 and we still had more on our list of things to see. After watching a bunch of ducklings swimming in a pond, we left for the Plaza de Espana, one of the most famous sights in Sevilla.

It took us bit of walking to find it, but the city is so beautiful we enjoyed the walk. When we finally made it, I knew why all the hostel workers told us to go there. It was beautiful! In the middle of the square there was a huge fountain and with the sun setting behind us, it cast light on the fountain creating a giant rainbow. Around ¾ of the square (actually more of a circle shape) was a building that had three levels, each about 15 feet high. The whole thing was covered in mosaic tile work. We could take stairs up to the second level and watch the rest of the Plaza from up there. Below women were selling Spanish fans and castanets. Unfortunately the river-mote thing that normally ran in front of the building was dry, but the bridges going over them had ceramic railings of blue and white that were breathtaking.

When we finished there, Steve and I walked back to the hostel and met up with Frank and Lies again. They were waiting for their friend Dave from Chapel Hill to arrive for the weekend from London, and once he did, the five of us plus the German girl all went to a restaurant famous for its tapas. Tapas are appetizers, often fried, but not always. I had fried spinach balls and grilled chicken with special sauce and Spanish cheesecake which was divine.

The next morning Steve and I went to climb the church tower before he had to leave for Granada. Frank and Lies weren’t even awake yet when we left, as they’d gone out the night before. The cathedral was very impressive and from the top of the tower, one could see all of Sevilla. Also, unlike most of the other towers I’d climbed in Europe, this one had a ramp all the way up instead of stairs. Score!

After the cathedral we walked past the bull fighting arena and to the river where we watched many rowers practice. One guy fell in, which was pretty funny. Having now seen most of the city, we walked back to the hostel where Steve packed his bags and left. Lies and Frank had already left to see the Alcazar gardens that we’d seen the afternoon before.

That night we all hung out on the roof of the hostel, chilling in the hammocks and talking to different guests. I felt a little funny, so I went to bed early. I had a bit of a cough, but it didn’t seem like much. The next morning I woke up feeling like I’d been hit by a truck. I had the flu. Probably swine flu (since I didn’t get it once I got back to the states when everyone else had it), but either way, let’s just say it really sucked. I lay in bed the whole day, drinking broth Lies fetched from the store for me and tangerines. The only two things I could stomach. I barely had the energy to stand up. Luckily, despite the 9 person room, people weren’t in there much and I think they all realized I was close to death’s door because they didn’t complain about the lights always being off. I stayed on my little bed until we had to leave for the train the next morning and let me just say, it was an act of God that I made it to the bus with my backpack and purse (I’d left my big suitcase at Alvaro’s in Madrid). I was green by the time we made it to the stop (which wasn’t far away) and the rest of the journey to Madrid was just as terrible. When we finally made it back to Alvaro’s (yes, he was kind enough to let us stay another night before we left the next day for the airport), I passed out on my pull-out-chair and slept until I had to leave the next morning (minus a short trip to the drug store to get medicine).

If I thought the trip from Sevilla to Madrid was painful, it was nothing compared to the trip from Alvaro’s to the airport. I not only had to shlup my suitcase, purse, and backpack to the subway (Frank helped me until I got to the gate, but after that I was on my own), but then I had to ride the subway for about 45 minutes to the airport and I was so nauseous by the time I got off I could barely walk. I had broken out in a cold sweat and just walking to the check-in desk was like crossing the Arabian desert. When I got to the counter I asked the woman what the price would be to upgrade to 1^st class (not wanting to contaminate anyone else/needing a less horrid trip than I’d experienced the last few days), and she said “Oh, we have a special, only 300 Euros.” This is when I burst out into tears. The poor woman was very kind and let me sit down with my luggage at an empty seat behind and empty counter to rest and compose myself until I had to leave to find my gate.

Thankfully, on the plane, I had a window seat and with American Airlines you have your own TV in the back of the headrest in front of you, plus your headrest folds in on both sides to let you lean your head against it. SOOO much nicer than US Air.

I felt better by the time I got home, but I was also full of medicine and I crashed after two days and had to recover for another week. So, not the best end to the greatest trip ever, but I made it home alive, so that’s what counts! Lol