Felices Fiestas!

As Brad and I pack for our Christmas and New Year in central Europe, I am thinking of everyone who reads this blog. Whatever holidays you’re celebrating and however you’re celebrating them . . . I’m sending love your way. Brad and I feel very much loved this Christmas. Many friends and family have gotten in touch to wish us well. In lieu of a Christmas tree this year, we have cards (sent from loved ones) taped to a wall. Love them!

Our beautiful cards

Sevilla has prepared us for Christmas in a delightful way. The lights all over the city, the Belén market, Spanish Christmas carols. Last night, Brad and I passed by a department store with a little platform set up outside. No, it wasn’t for Santa. On the decorated platform, seated on a gilded throne, was one of the Reyes! More specifically, it was Balthazar. Children bring letters detailing their gift wishes to the Reyes. Also on the platform was a cheerful red and gold mailbox for the children’s letters.

The Reyes (kings) climbing up someone’s balcony to bring gifts

We’ve been readying ourselves for freezing temps (and possibly snow!) at our Christmas destination. The trip will be romantic, but we’ll miss our dear ones very much. Let me give everyone in our extended families a special shout out. We are in Pamplico, Hannah, Spartanburg, Campbellsville and Cookeville in spirit. Merry Christmas!

How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is giv’n;
So God imparts to human hearts the blessings of His heav’n.
No ear may hear His coming, but in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive Him still, the dear Christ enters in.

A festive view of the Giralda

“Canta conmigo, es Navidad”

Melanie and Brad with nochebuenas in the background (nochebuenas are poinsettias; Noche Buena is Christmas Eve)

Our friend Melanie came to visit. We acted like fools all week. The end.

Melanie is our dear friend from UCLA. She worked hard all quarter (even brought bluebooks to grade) and I’m glad she treated herself to a week in Sevilla before Christmas. Having Melanie here gave us a great excuse to take excursions to Itálica and Huelva, and to discover all the harbingers of Christmas in Sevilla.

We didn’t stray far from Sevilla, but we went to a couple of spots we’ve been wanting to see. Itálica, just a few miles north of Sevilla, is a site of impressive Roman ruins. Did you know that Itálica was the 3rd largest city in the Roman Empire? Yeah, neither did I! The ruins at Itálica include some brightly colored mosaic floors, parts of the city walls, the baths and a huge amphitheater.

Mosaic floors
Amphitheater
Inside the amphitheater; pretend I’m a tiger and Melanie’s a Roman slave – it’s just like the movie Gladiator!
We thought a trip to the beach might be fun in mid-December, so we hopped on a train to Huelva (a town west of Sevilla), then hopped on a bus to Punta Umbría. Oh, you haven’t heard of Punta Umbría? I’m surprised. It’s a tiny beach town on the Atlantic and, in the winter, home to about 200 inhabitants. It seemed like that anyway. The day was also a bit cold, windy and drizzly, so, needless to say, we were probably the only tourists to stop by the tourism office that day. But, we saw the beach, we saw boats and we ate some incredible seafood at a place where the waiter referred to us as “familia.” On our bus ride back to Huelva, we saw dozens of wild flamingos standing in the marshes.

We sure had the beach all to ourselves!

Sevilla also had some adventures in store for us of course. We had memorable interchanges with Pablo, Tito and Sylvie – wait staff at some of the local spots we ate. Tito felt it necessary to give me a grammar and diction lesson every time he came by our table. I finally asked if they served a tapa called “¿Por qué no te calles?” (Why don’t you shut up?) No, I wasn’t being rude – many restaurants recently created a tapa by this name because that’s the question King Juan Carlos asked of Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez. That sound bite has been broadcast countless times in Spain and people get quite a kick out of it.

Melanie was in Sevilla just in time for some school choir finals – performed outside of our local department store. Four choirs performed traditional Christmas songs for a crowd made up of their school friends, their parents, siblings . . . and the three of us. If hearing children sing Christmas songs doesn’t get you in the holiday spirit, your heart is made of icicles.

I wanted this choir to win, but they were the 1st runners up

The Christmas Belén bonanza in southern Spain gets out of control. We saw Beléns everywhere! Here are some special Belén moments:

A cart full of shrimp, hams, etc. in a Belén scene. Just like the Peruvians dress Mary and Joseph in bowler hats and make the stable out of an ear of corn, the Spanish put all things Spanish in their Nativity scenes. The Jewish community of Bethlehem was probably not eating pork and shellfish, but that doesn’t mean those foods won't be in your Belén.

I don’t know if flamingos (or mallards) were there in Bethlehem 2000 years ago, but they live in southern Spain, and therefore are available for purchase to include in your Belén.

Adviento

Advent is such a beautiful time in the Christian faith. For me, the essence of Advent is “waiting.” As a Christian, some of my most meaningful encounters with the holy happen at a time when I’m waiting. Waiting for clarity, waiting for guidance, assurance, comfort.

Experiencing a special season like Advent in a different way is one of the cool things about living in another country for a while. Brad and I went to mass on Sunday and I surprised myself by understanding most of the text from the hymns. Part of one hymn is below.

Vamos a preparar el camino del Señor.
Vamos a construir la ciudad de nuestro Dios.
Vendra el Señor con la aurora,
El brillara en la mañana, pregonara la verdad.
Vendra el Señor con su fuerza,
El rompera las cadenas,
El nos dara la libertad . . .

My rudimentary translation of the Spanish:

Let’s prepare a way for the Lord.
Let’s construct a city for our God.
The Lord will come at dawn,
He will shine in the morning; He will proclaim the truth.
The Lord will come with strength,
He will break the chains,
He will give us freedom . . .

Belén, Turrón y Papá Noél

On a big department store in Sevilla

Christmastime is here! Or, as the 5-foot tall motion-sensor singing/dancing Mexican-Norwegian Santa Claus that Mom gave us would say, “Navidad . . . Navidad . . . Hoy es Navidad.” (Sung to the tune of Jingle Bells.) Downtown Sevilla is filled with lights, store windows are decorated, and that feeling of anticipation is in the air. Advent in Spain feels much different from Advent in the U.S. – mainly because, here, it’s not such a season of frenzied, desperate shopping. (For me, Christmas shopping always feels frenzied – you can imagine the mall parking lot traffic in L.A.)

A view of the main pedestrian/shopping street in Sevilla; in the foreground, you see a man roasting chestnuts
The Ayuntamiento (City Hall)
A window display

From what I can tell, the hottest item to buy in Sevilla this season (and every season I bet) is a Belén. That’s Spanish for “Bethlehem” and it’s what they call a nativity scene or creche. There’s a big Belén market set up for the entire month in one of the big plazas downtown. The market is made up of vendor stalls all selling little figures, little rustic-looking buildings, miniature fruit, bread, mini fried fish. At this market, you can find things that you never dreamed were in Bethlehem – much less in the stable with baby Jesus. Notably: waterfalls, peacocks, pigs being slaughtered, a barefooted man crushing grapes in a big barrel for wine, windmills . . .

Items for sale at the market – check out the miniature cat catching mouse (bottom left corner)
A vendor/realtor; "We've got your basic stable - 2 sticks holding up some brush - and we've got a studio, the 2-bedroom condo and the condo with stable addition. Now, if you ask me, your best value is going to be the split-level with covered patio."

Our dinky little Nativity scenes in the U.S. have nothing on the Nativity scenes here.
This . . .
. . . Versus this. (When there's a waterfall, it's simply no contest)

Papá Noél (Santa Claus) is a part of Christmas in Spain, but I’m not sure if he’s just a character that they borrowed from the U.S. They’ve seen all our dumb Christmas movies, so they know how American movie families celebrate the holidays. The “Reyes” (Kings, a.k.a. the three wise men) put gifts in the shoes of Spanish children on Epiphany, which is 12 days after Christmas (the real Twelve Days of Christmas). In the Christian calendar, Epiphany is the day the Magi arrived in Bethlehem.

The Adoration of the Magi by Diego Velazquez

It’s surprising how familiar many of the Christmas decorations look here. At one of my favorite stores, Casa, the following items are on sale: reindeer candle holders, snowman nightlights, stockings, Santa Claus Advent calendars and (ick) pillows embroidered with “Merry Christmas.” I know that many of our Christmas traditions, like putting a tree inside one’s house, come from pagan cultures of ancient Germany. And, of course St. Nicholas and the reindeer come from Lapland or somewhere. But, so much has become tackified and commercial. Don’t get me wrong, I miss my special tacky decorations at home. Mostly I will miss the ritual of hanging all our beautiful, funny and meaningful Christmas tree ornaments.

Turrón, a sweet confection made mostly of crushed almonds, is a special Christmas tradition in Spain

The most important part of Christmas is something we luckily won’t have to miss out on in Europe. Spiked eggnog!!! Just kidding. I’m talking about church of course – the reason for the season, etc. We plan to attend many services and sacred music performances. I imagine that Christmas Eve will be mysterious and holy no matter what language the hymns are in.

Tarjetas de Residencia

We’re officially temporary residents of Spain! We picked up our residency cards today, after filling out many forms, making many trips to a government office in Sevilla and waiting many days. Having these cards is necessary because we only have 3-month visas and the card is valid until July. My tarjeta (card) includes my basic info and describes me as, “Familiar de Estudiante,” family of a student.

I feel more and more a “resident” here in Sevilla. One day, on the street, I gave someone directions in Spanish. I have my favorite shops and bars. I go often to a church in our neighborhood – just to stand with the handful of people in the quiet courtyard, look up at the simple cross on the wall, breathe a few prayers and cross myself.

This week also treated me to more-than-the-usual number of social opportunities with Spaniards. I had intercambios on Tuesday and Wednesday. My intercambio partners were charming, but my Spanish skills seem to be in a free-fall. Last night, Brad and I met over a dozen researchers (working at the archive with him) at a bar near the Murillo gardens. Some of them spoke English, but I tried to tune into their Spanish conversations. As I chatted with a nutty girl named Magdalena, I asked, “Puedo hablo en español sin verbos?” That’s an (incorrect) way of saying, “Can I speak in Spanish without verbs?” She laughed and said, “Yeah, It will be like a telegraph! Food [stop] very good [stop] bar nearby [stop].”

Brad got to spend time with one of his favorite Spaniards, Profesora Manyé, this week and I tagged along. Profesora Manyé (de Barcelona) was Brad’s undergraduate advisor and she was visiting Sevilla with a gaggle of Furman students doing a study abroad in Madrid. We met Profesora Manyé, her husband, Wayne (de Maine), and their 2 girls at their hotel in town – the same hotel Brad stayed in 6 years ago when he did study abroad. After going out for coffee with them, I volunteered to babysit the girls while Brad took Manyé and Wayne out for tapas.


Brad enjoying some sherry with his Profesora

After tapas, they returned to herd the students off to the late flamenco show in Santa Cruz. Manyé had invited Brad and me to go with her and about 20 students to the show. Before departing the hotel, Manyé introduced Brad and me to the tired, but curious students. Little did they know that Manyé was going to giving a energetic talk that could have been titled, Brad: A Brief History. Brad is very fortunate to have a great supporter and friend in Manyé. I was delighted to spend an evening with her family. At one point, her 4-year-old, who is fluent in English, Spanish and Catalán (a language spoken around Barcelona), asked me, “Do you speak inglés?” I said, “Yes, and un poco español.”

Viajes con los Padres

Introducción

Mom and Dad continue to entertain and baffle me with their questions and comments about everything. (That is, if I don’t already know what they’re going to say – they are sooo predictable.) During their time in Spain, Brad and I fielded some of the most off-the-wall, silly and simply crazy questions from them. We also were audience to some of the most painful and obscenely incorrect pronunciations of Spanish words by Dad. (Here’s the beginners course in Spanish pronunciation: fajita and quesadilla.) So, without further ado, I will tell of our adventures without mentioning any choice comments from my parents. Just use your imagination.

Cordoba

Our first stop on our tour of southern Spain was Cordoba, a lovely city just up the river from Sevilla. Cordoba used to be a very powerful caliphate that controlled the western half of the Islamic world. The most notable thing in Cordoba is the Mezquita (mosque). Building began on the mosque in the 700s and it is massive. At one time, 50,000 believers would pray, facing towards Mecca, in the mosque.

Inside the Mezquita

Even though, over the course of history, Spain has thrown out the Muslims (Moors) and Jews, they now celebrate these incredible cultures. Just like the Jewish Quarter in Sevilla (Santa Cruz), the Jewish quarter in Cordoba is beautiful and located right in the heart of the city. While in Cordoba, We visited one of only 3 surviving synogauges in Spain. (We saw another synagogue in Toledo in September.) We also visited the Moorish baths – a spot that, hundreds of years ago, was central to Moorish social life.

The Spainards obviously realized the importance and beauty of the huge Mezquita in Cordoba, so they didn’t tear it down. But, they did build a Catholic cathedral in the middle of it. I don’t know if that’s horrible or really cool. To be honest, in my opinion, it’s cool. I love those places of worship that have been used by different faiths over the centuries. I think that St. Paul’s Cathedral in London and the Hagia Sofia in Istanbul are both examples of multi-purpose houses of worship. Every major faith has so much to offer the world.

Úbeda

Úbeda was a little nugget of a town. The center of the town is filled with Renaisance architecture. The edges of town offer incredible views of olive groves as far as the eye can see.

Los Olivos

Dad chose Úbeda partly because of the beautiful parador there. The Spanish government owns paradors all over Spain – these are typically old castles, mansions, monastaries, that have been converted into grand hotels. I truly felt like royalty in our unbelivable room.

Either I took some shrinking pills, or our room was HUGE

Other treats in Úbeda included: yummy salmorejo (a cold tomato soup that I love), stray but cute dogs, great pottery shops and the nice slow pace of the town.

Granada

According to Brad, our word “pomegranate” is a corruption of the French phrase "apple of Granada" – pomegranates and depictions of them are everywhere in this city

What is the most visited site in all of Spain? The Alhambra in Granada. And it’s beautiful in the Fall. The Alhambra is one of those spots that is impossible to sufficiently describe in words. If I was playing word association and someone said “Alhambra,” I would say, “mystery, reflection, awe.”

Over the centuries, the Alhambra has been used as a Moorish palace, soldiers’ barracks, a fortress, a prison and a home for gypsies and Washington Irving. Granada was the last kingdom in Spain to be taken by the Christians (specifically Isabel and Ferdinand) in 1492. With a fortress like the Alhambra, I can see why it took them 10 years to conquer Granada. The military towers of the old fortress were not what drew me in, though – it was the gardens, Generalife.

Generalife

The Alhambra is a fountain-lovers dream. There are pools of water so still that facades of the palace are reflected perfectly in the water; there are rushing streams of water that flow down the banisters on either side of an outdoor staircase; there are tiny bubbling fountains that send trickles of water to connected pools in hidden parts of the garden. The most famous fountain in the Alhambra is in the “Court of Lions” in the Nasrid Palace. Unfortunately, the lions have been removed for a 7-year restoration.

The 4-level banister fountain

I won’t try to continue with my insufficient descriptions.

View from the Alhambra; all you can say is, “Ah, Granada . . .”

While in Granada, Brad and I went to the chapel of the Granada Cathedral because that’s where Isabel and Ferdinand are buried! Yes, the Isabel who decided to let Columbus make that crazy voyage in 1492. For a colonial Mexican historian, this visit was pretty awesome. Queen Isabel was quite religious. Some of the scenes carved on the main altarpiece in the chapel are of her favorite saints. We also got to see her personal Bible, which is an exquisite illuminated manuscript. Oh, and her collection of religious paintings by some of the most famous Dutch and Italian painters of her time are there too. Isabel and Ferdinand are known as the “Reyes Catholicos” (Catholic monarchs) and it was they who expelled the Jews from Spain in 1492 (with the Alhambra Decree.)

Ronda

We celebrated Thanksgiving in Ronda. Brad and I already knew we loved Ronda from previous short visits, but this time was especially nice. Thanksgiving dinner was yummy even though we didn’t have turkey and dressing. (I haven’t seen turkey anywhere since we’ve lived in Spain.) Ronda is built on a deep gorge and we had a great view over the cliff from our table.

View of the valley below Ronda

Our little hotel in Ronda is a converted mansion with adorable rooms and super friendly staff. They even had a mini movie theatre and a little wine cellar/bodega.

Our bed

We happened to meet some Americans – more importantly, Southerners – at the hotel. They were good friends with the owners of the hotel and they’ve been visiting Ronda for years. One couple even owns a little house in Ronda. The other couple lives in Mexico, in one of the most charming colonial silver towns in the center of the country. When they found out that Brad spends a lot of time in Mexico City, they insisted that we contact them next time we’re there.

After lunch, we ran into our new friends again, and they introduced us to their Spanish friend, who owns a local cafe, and his son, who is a matador. (That’s when Mom got those 2 kisses on the cheek.) Pretty cool to meet a matador in the city most famous for bullfighting in all of Spain.

As I’ve said before, Spain is full of surprises. I’m so glad that Mom and Dad got to experience that first-hand. Thanks for coming Mom and Dad!

Otro té, por favor

In the courtyard of orange trees outside the Mezquita (mosque) in Cordoba

We just deposited Mom and Dad in a taxi and told the driver, “aeropuerto.” I must jot down some of our adventures now before I forget all the wonderful things we did. Our visit with Mom and Dad was excellent – we really had an Andalucían bonanza. I am so proud of Mom and Dad for many things: for taking a much-needed and deserved vacation to Europe, for truly adhering to the Spanish schedule, for trying tons of Spanish cuisine, for exploring new cities, and for speaking “Spanish.”

Yes, they tried to speak Spanish. This Fall, Mom audited a Spanish class at the local college, and about 8 years ago, Dad spent a week in the Dominican Republic. Needless to say, they were quite proficient. Mom could ask “How much?” and she understood numbers, so she could shop with relative ease. Dad could ask for the check at restaurants and he learned how to say “te” and “leche” within hours of his arrival. Dad drank his weight in tea everyday. I also noticed that if any Spaniard directed a question or a comment at Dad, he would simply smile, raise his eyebrows and say, “Muy buen!” As you can imagine, Mom and Dad charmed everyone they met. Including the handsome young matador we met in Ronda – he kissed Mom on both cheeks and said, “Encantado.” But, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s begin in Sevilla.

Upon Mom and Dad’s arrival in Sevilla, we dove into the schedule of long, late lunches and tapas at night. We ate and ate and ate. On Brad’s b-day, we went to the cathedral and then to a Spanish cooking school for lunch. Later, we walked around the Plaza de España and we rented a “cyclobus” to cruise around the park.

At the Plaza de España . . . aren’t they cute? 34 years together and they've never had a fight!

On our cyclobus, a.k.a. a bicycle built for four

We also had to go out for tapas in Santa Cruz, tour the Alcázar, walk along the river and wander around local plazas. One night in Seville, we were strolling by a statue of the virgin near the cathedral, and we suddenly heard music. It was a Tuna!

In Spain and Latin America, Tunas are musical groups made up of guys from universities. They wander the streets in distinctive garb, strumming guitars and singing love songs and folk tunes. It just so happened that some sort of Tuna competition was going on the night we were wandering Sevilla. If I could have arranged it, I would have, because Mom was in heaven.

A Tuna

We watched 2 Tunas perform for the virgin (the statue in the square.) They sang songs about lost love, plazas in Sevilla, and Spanish pride. A couple of guys did a fancy dance that involved smacking your body with a tambourine while jumping around. Seeing the Tuna perform was a fantastic surprise.

After our days in Sevilla, it was time to hit the road in a rental car. We traveled to Cordoba, Úbeda, Granada and Ronda. It was nice for Mom and Dad to really immerse themselves in Andalucía for the duration of their trip. Travel in Spain can be overwhelming because there are so many amazing places in the country and each province has a unique personality. If you spend a week in Andalucía, you’re likely to drink sherry, see tons of Moorish architecture, countless olive groves, and pass by a toothless farmer leading a donkey through town. Dad had painstakingly researched the towns, hotels and sights on our trip. Therefore, everything was great! Details to come . . .

Oh, the places we will go . . .

Feliz Cumpleaños Brad!

Today is a special day for my cariño! Brad turns 27 today and he still looks great. I've had the pleasure of celebrating Brad's b-day with him since he turned 20 - like good cheese, he keeps getting better with age!

Since we don’t have an oven here, I couldn’t make Brad a birthday cake, but many of you know that I don’t usually bake anyway. I picked up a cake at our local bakery and we enjoyed it on Monday . . . Our friend, Allison, celebrated her 45th birthday on Monday. We cooked a delicious feast of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans and biscuits! With champagne to drink of course.

The bakery gave me those candles!

We plan to celebrate today by enjoying Sevilla with my parents and eating yummy Spanish cuisine. I imagine Brad’s birthday wish is to eat lots of ham.

Happy Birthday to Brad!

J. R. R. Tolkien was here.

Brad again. Wait! Don’t go! I know I’m not as funny as Neely, but she keeps bugging me to write again. So here I am. I’ll understand if you feel the urge to nap while reading; happens to my students too.



I don’t know how many of you read/saw Lord of the Rings, but at one point, two of the little hobbits lament the fact that some of the others in their group haven’t heard of “second breakfast.” Well, the Spaniards certainly have. I have my “second breakfast” here everyday, and it is one of the great joys of living in Spain.

Now, let’s all be clear: I never skip first breakfast. But coffee and a few cookies at dawn doesn’t last long, and all that sixteenth-century handwriting really works up an appetite. And everyone knows that you can’t get lunch in Spain until 2:00 or 3:00 pm. So what do you do when you’re in the archive around 10:30 or 11:00 and you’re hungry? You go have breakfast (again).

And you’re not alone. No, no. Spain is a social place.

When I first got here, I only knew one person to go have second breakfast with: Rob (he also has a Fulbright and studies colonial Mexico). But then we met a professor from Virginia, and she started going with us. And then we had a breakthrough—we met a Spaniard. This Spaniard (Juan) is a grad student in the US but also a native of Sevilla. He’s very well connected. Through him, we’ve met almost everyone that’s been in the archive for any length of time at all. And we all go have second breakfast together nearly everyday.

We’re quite a diverse group. There are the three Americans that I’ve mentioned, plus two Frenchies, a Mexican or two, a Moroccan, two more Americans (Californians, if you can believe it), and a handful of Spaniards (Basques, Andaluces, Valencianos, etc.). We’re like the United Nations of the Archive. We conduct all of our official business in Castilian Spanish, but everyone reserves the right to the occasional outburst in his or her native tongue, be it French, English, Arabic, or heavily-accented Andalucian Spanish.



One of the first international disturbances in our miniature League of Nations was the choice of restaurant. It is widely known that there is a very good coffee shop around the corner, behind the archive, called La Rayuela. The toast and coffee is delicious and cheap, the service is friendly and efficient, and there are no tourists (even though, like in Lord of the Rings, most tourists have never heard of second breakfast). Why one would want to go anywhere else is beyond me. But some of the Spaniards thought that a little touristy cafe right next door to the archive would be better, even though the service is awful and they give you less food for higher prices! After a couple of days of this, the American delegation pushed (successfully) for a return to the Rayuela. Thank goodness.

The Rayuela is typical of many Spanish coffee shops. The toast that I’ve mentioned is almost the only thing that they serve. But oh, the stuff they put on top of it! You can get olive oil if you’re feeling healthy, and maybe crushed tomatoes. Or some butter and jelly. Or . . . and this is my favorite . . . HAM. Not any of that boiled stuff either (though it is available if you want it), but good ol’ cured SERRANO HAM. If you’re feeling really decadent, you can even get ham pâté. Spain is amazing.

Viva second breakfast.

El Rio

Torro de Oro (Tower of Gold) on the Rio Guadalquivir

Spending time down by the river here always makes me wistful. I love the water – I love rivers, lakes, streams, fountains and puddles. I’ve always hoped to live by the water. Happily, our apartment in Sevilla is only a few meters away from the Rio Guadalquivir.

After our siesta hour, Brad and I often go to the path along the river; he runs, I walk. At twilight, the river is beautiful. As you walk down the steps from the street level to the river, millions of glass shards littering the concrete sparkle in the sunset. The broken glass is the remnants of botellones, groups of teenagers who congregate by the river at night to drink.

The air by the river is not quite as dry as the rest of the city, and there’s always a slight breeze blowing. The water is relatively still. Large ships stopped coming this far up the Guadalquivir long ago, and the river hasn’t been dredged in ages. The only vessels you see cruising the river are occasional double level tour boats and the slender, quiet boats of rowers. Every now and then, you hear the wet flop of a fish jumping.

The walkway along the river is called “Paseo del Rey Juan Carlos I.” Juan Carlos I is the current (and quite admirable and popular) king of Spain. Many Sevillanos stroll, jog, walk their dogs and bike along the river. Many people also enjoy sitting on the banks of the river to fish, gaze at the river or make out. The city planted countless oleander bushes on the banks of the river – in between the walking path and the water. On the other side of the path, there are intervals of trees and intermittent wide sets of stairs leading up to the street.

I enjoy looking at the graffiti that adorns the tall concrete walls alongside the stairs. Graffiti is a fascinating art form because the artists are ostensibly untrained and some of the art is brilliant. Also, anyone could alter, enhance or deface the images at any time. Much of the graffiti is clearly humorous or serious social commentary or a display of bravado. A few of my favorite images are below.


Some other characters by the river include the resident riverbank cats who often dart across the path in front of you, and the armies of frenzied bats flying, just over your head, at sunset – catching mosquitoes.

The bridges over the river are famous (to me anyway) and we live within walking distance of these 3 pretty ones.

One of the bridges closet to us. It was built for the 1992 world expo in Sevilla. At night, the lights along the bridge make it look as if it’s lit with candelight.

Also built for the 1992 expo – I love this bridge because it looks like a giant harp tilted sideways.

The Triana bridge – the most iconic bridge in Sevilla. Triana is an old, picturesque neighborhood across the river.

Walking along the river is a beautiful way to commune with nature and escape the noisy hectic streets of the city. And a way to check out Spanish hotties who jog there.