Day 3 - Seville — Travelling bryans

After another amazing night of sleep, Andrew and I got up and went for a little walk around the area near the hotel. Being up and out before 10am was an eye opener - the Sevillians were bustling around doing their shopping, opening the bars and getting their coffee fix.

We passed an entrance to a beautiful looking, small palace. We read the sign at the front and noted it was called Palacio de las Dueñas. We decided to come back to that after breakfast.

Waiting for Oliver to wake up is a thankless task. We finally got him up and out and were at our favourite breakfast spot at midday! Oliver had the same as yesterday, today I had pesto toast with mozzarella, walnuts and rocket. Andrew had eggs benedict with Salmon and a bloody Mary! After saying goodbye to the lovely happy man we headed back to Palacio de las Dueñas. We paid our EUR 11 and wandered around the beautiful gardens, stables and stunning rooms. The palace is privately owned, and still lived in, but lots of it was open for the public to view. It is beautifully kept, if a little over-full of knickknacks.

The most recent duchess to live there was rather eccentric and also rather plastic looking in her later years!

The temperature today is high again, 40 degrees, which is a struggle to walk around in. But we made our way back to the old town as we had plans to see the Real Alcazar (Real = Royal, Alcazar = Palace (in arabic)). This is therefore a royal palace, or at least it was until 1931, when it was handed over to the citizens of Seville. It is beautiful. Full of the most intricate iridescent tiles and gold ceilings, some dating back over a thousand years, but empty of any belongings - so it is hard to imagine anyone living here - especially as recently as 1931. The grounds are vast, mainly fruit trees, which fed the inhabitants of the palace.

We wandered happily around the palace and grounds for an hour and then decided that it was just too hot to carry on, so we set off back to the hotel and went for a swim in the second rooftop pool. It was just what we needed. We had an early start to the evening planned and took a taxi back across the river to Triana to Baraka Sala Flamenco.

I have been here before and I hoped that Andrew and Oliver would love it as much as I had. It is a small traditional flamenco “tablao”, which is a venue that specialises in flamenco performances. We were seated right at the front on some chairs that look like they came from an old abuela’s house and waited for the lights to go down. Flamenco is a complex art form incorporating poetry, singing (cante), guitar playing (toque), dance (baile), hand-clapping (palmas), and finger snapping (pitos). It often features the call and response known as jaleo, a form of “hell raising,” involving hand clapping, foot stomping, and encouraging shouts.

First on was the guitar player - he played ten minutes of the most beautiful, romantic Spanish music. He was then joined by a small Spanish man with a VERY tight shirt who started the singing. Now when I say ‘singing’, it is more of a wailing. That sounds mean, but it’s not meant as such - it is just so you know how it sounds. It’s quite maudlin in style. I did wonder if the buttons would pop off his shirt, as Oli was in the firing line for that. Another, thin, Spanish main joined them and he started the pitos and they both clapped along. We were asked at the beginning not to clap along as the beat was their own and very intricate. We could applaud whenever we felt like it, though.

Then came the dancer, in the well-recognised long layered skirt and traditional shawled top. She was amazing - when she stamped her feet, the whole place shook. It was very emotional to watch, you had to keep reminding yourself to breathe! She was joined by the non-singing, clapping man and they danced a very sexy duet together. She then took his seat and he danced a frantic and energetic dance - I have never seen anyone’s feet move so fast. He was incredibly elegant. She heckled him from the chair - I assume words of encouragement.

We were asked not to take photos or video until the last 2 minutes, which everyone stuck to and that really did add to the enjoyment. You could just sit back and enjoy it. I cried, Andrew cried, Oli said it was amazing.

What a wonderful way to end our time in Seville.

We walked back via the bull ring area; there was a bullfight on tonight and the area was packed. It’s so odd to me to think that people still flock in their hundreds to see this. But they do, and the Spanish clearly love it.

We had gourmet, posh burgers for dinner, and then a delicious ice cream to walk back to the hotel with. We sat on the steps under the mushrooms and watched the comings and goings of Seville.

It feels like a very safe and laid-back place - clean and tidy with happy people.

We will be sad to leave tomorrow, but it’s time to move on.