Sevilla is about experiencing, not really site-seeing, but there were two sites that were on our list: the Alcázar (a palace) and the cathedral and Giraldi bell tower.
We had a lazy enough morning, with an alarm that was more of a suggestion and long, hot showers that still didn't completely remove the grime from our feet. Our apartment, as cute as it is, doesn't have any WIFI, so it was off to the cupcake shop a block away for some breakfast and Internet and to plan our day.
CUPCAKE & GO is all pink and sugar and the proprietor went along with our attempts at Spanish. Tostadas, which was a tomato sauce for me and ham (Rosie just learned that "jamón" was ham and not salmon) for Rosie, were the main breakfast fare, with cupcakes (Rosie looking up, then butchering "what is the best" using Google Translate) for dessert. Because vacation. Mine was a cutesy Minnie Mouse-themed chocolate one (with another flavor that might have been orange) and Rosie's was toffee (which the guy said was the best).
After we left the shop, as we headed toward the cathedral, we had a bit of a conversation of gay versus European. The typical "clues" (well-dressed, drinking fruity drinks, hugging and kissing for greetings) don't translate well. The lisp that is often attributed to gay men in the US is a part of the Spanish accent! "Gracias" is pronounced "grathias." I guess unless we went to that gay bar in Córdoba, we would have no idea. (Oh, except for the ones that clearly wanted to dance with us. I'm guessing they were all straight.)
Anyway, history and architecture and stuff. The cathedral was built on the site of a mosque, though completely demolishing the mosque, unlike Córdoba, and keeping just the minaret to turn into a bell tower.
It wasn't enough just to demolish the mosque though. They had to build the biggest Gothic church ever. Which they did, by volume, recognized in the Guinness Book of World Records.
The massive altarpiece is still undergoing renovations, so we got confused when we sat down facing the choir area instead of the main altar and started our Rick-guided tour. We figured it out, and saw on the massive photo over the construction the 44 scenes from Jesus' life.
I do my best to educate Rosie on what stuff means when we visit cathedral and churches and the like so she can at least be entertained by my slight butchering of Bible stories. Here was no different, and baptism (spurred by a picture of John the Baptist by Murillo, a famous Spanish religious painter) was the topic of the day.
To be fair, as we were climbing up the bell tower I learned about Hebrew names and how Rosie got hers, so I was learning as well.
As I mentioned before, the first 2/3rds of the bell tower were the former minaret. The floor was sloped - great for going up, awful for going down - because the muezzins doing the call to prayer rode up on horses! Lazy bums - we walked.
There was some bell ringing right when we got there, and some great views on the old parts of the city. The statue on the top of the tower (supposedly a weathervane, though it looks too big to move) is the highest a building can be in Sevilla, so we were looking down on everything.
Besides the tower and its size, the cathedral is also known for housing the remains of Christopher Columbus. He has been buried in Spain, the Dominican Republic, Cuba, and now in the mausoleum in cathedral. His remains were verified in 2006 - definitely Columbus. He's right next to a mural of St. Christopher and a clock from 1788.
There is also a fancy crown, Spain's most valuable, with the world's largest pearl shaped into an angel body. Don't I look good with it on?
With the cathedral fully wandered through, we decided to take Rick's walking tour of the Barrio Santa Cruz, the old Jewish ghetto that turned into residential streets of old town. We saw some painters' houses, some plazas, some sculptures (including one of the original sex addict-atheist Don Juan), and some tiny, cute streets.
We were ready for the palace. It was 1pm and amazingly still cool outside, though sunny, so we still had time for another site before lunch.
I think the palace amazed us both with how different it was and how much we liked it. It is of the Mudejar style, mixing Christian and Islamic elements, just the way it was built. King Pedro I took it from the caliphs when he conquered Sevilla, but merely expanded it in the same style. Many generations have expanded it, but all have kept the general gist, if adding the trappings of their time. The current king and queen still use the palace as one of their residences today!
It is cool, literally and figuratively, built around pools, tile, and patios. When Pedro moved in after the renovations to the caliph's palace, he brought his mistress along instead of his wife.
But the moldings and the mosaics and the marble floors are stunning. So many tessellations of colors and textures. The rooms are mostly bare. One exception is a tapestry room, with one being a map of the Mediterranean oriented south - makes you feel like you are on your head!
There are gardens outside, with a bath underneath the palace (named in honor of the mistress). They were pretty, but our stomaches were rumbling.
Rick led us to a restaurant a few blocks away, but away from the tourist crowds. The wooden accents, and large adobe jugs, were old world at its best. And the tapas - a little of a "taco" (which might have been misordered as tuna - delicious regardless), a little "mini hamburguesa" (I'm missing home a bit), some "pisto" (mix of veggies that tasted curry-like), some sausage called salchicá, and two orders (one on purpose, one a happy accident) of "espinacas con garbanzos" (spinach and garbanzo beans). And some of the best and cheapest house white wine we've had. One euro to wash down the first few tapas, and one more euro for good measure (to make sure our walk to the park for siesta was nice, of course).
Near to the bench where we read and napped was the Plaza de Espanya (hope you can figure that one out). Besides and adorable canal that ran around the edges, there were cities from across Spain as painted tile mosaics and benches. We took pictures with the ones we've been to, but San Sebastián, Seville, and most of the cities in the Rioja didn't make the cut. Maybe they are just the capitals?
Rosie was set on going to Eslava (a restaurant a guy eating an avocado on the roof of the Córdoba hostel recommended), but we hadn't figured out exactly where it was. With both of us on 5% or less battery on our phones (all that park blogging), we found Internet fast at McDonalds. We stood outside for the three minutes it took to locate the restaurant, then crossed the bridge into Triana, a hip part of town with great views.
Due to the dead phones, this is the last picture we captured:
Now, I'll just have to describe to you the green and stone along the opposite bank, the walls of Alcázar and the bell tower of the cathedral, all in a tableau facing the setting sun, giving extra saturation to a river shore filled with color. The runners, bikers, skateboarders and strollers (both those with wheels and those people without) were out enjoying the coolness of "paseo" (the evening walk).
There were some kayaks in the water, playing around, and a group playing a game with a ball. And then there was us, posted up on a bench on the riverside, where Rosie beat me again at Rummy 500.
With dusk firmly settled in, we made our way to Eslava, and weren't disappointed. We had a zucchini pastry and the cutest scallops with a delicious sauce. This was with our glasses of Verdejo - because now that I've discovered this white wine, I won't complain about not liking whites again.
At this point our table was ready. Just with no stools, so we were standing up anyway. It was for the ambience we were outside anyway, not the comfort.
Everything was adorably mini. We got some winner of some tapas prize, a slow-cooked egg with other stuff called "huevo sober bázcocho boleius y vino dulce." Super yum, and different than tapas we've had before. With the came the "cigarro para becquer" - some dark mush deliciously wrapped up in maybe seaweed paper? Regardless, it and the ribs (the suggestion of the waitress) were delicious.
We had been unabashedly staring at other plates as they came out of the kitchen, and we were both entranced by the baby clams. They were so cute! And so delicious - olive oil and garlic bath and teeny tastes of delicious.
The reason Rosie wanted to come to this restaurant was because of the cheese ice cream. I was delectably different - not quite savory, not quite sweet, a little like cheesecake filling and also like goat cheese. As we were walking the winding streets (with very small walkways) back to the apartment, we discussed how we would bring it back to the US.
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