We lurched into the warm, humid Sevilla night after over 10 hours of bus and train travel on Friday. The bus station was swarming with people. It was quite the change from the sleepy beach town, Lagos. Our instructions were to call Jesus, our host at our new apartment. We did and he informed us that the place wouldn’t be ready for another hour. It was 8:30 at night. Gus exclaimed, “An hour! What has he been doing all day?!” I couldn’t agree more.
So we set off into the busy night. My brain had yet to adjust to a bustling city and I have to say that it was a tad overwhelming. But exciting. The young and beautiful kids were all heading out for sexy adventures that today’s youth enjoy; discos, orgies, cockfighting. They all still like cockfighting, yes? A little part of me was envious of the cavorting youth, having the night’s adventures ahead of them and all the possibilities that night time in the city brings. Another, bigger, part of me remembers the crushing disappointment and sadness of where my nights usually took me. I’m happy I’m not young anymore.
So we trundled along, through the maze of streets arriving at our destination around 9:30, tired and hungry. Our place was lovely – a little apartment set in a picturesque courtyard (except for the pile of construction equipment just outside our door). The foreboding was ominous.
Good morning, good morning!
I had one job. I was in charge of booking our place. I thought I did a bang up job contacting the host, Jesus, at a place recommended by our friend who lives in Vancouver but is from Sevilla, who’s name is also Jesus. I booked for 4 nights, at what I thought was a great price. 37 Euros oer night! Turns out it was for three nights so the price was still good (50), but not as good as I initially thought. I also didn’t read that it was an extra 30 Euros for a cot and an extra 20 Euros for arriving after 8pm ( we’re now at 67 Euros). I also didn’t read that full payment was due upon arrival. We emptied our pockets but of course we were short. Not a big deal as Jesus is a nice guy.
But it has this tree!
Room settled, we headed out for some tasty food and drink. Problem was we had no money after giving everything we had to Jesus. We passed a place that took credit cards so we darted inside.
We should have read the menu first (or before we ordered a huge glass of wine) as the place was well over our budget. We were told that we each had to order a dish. Our hungry, tired minds swirled. I said, let’s just finish the wine and book. The waitress told us we couldn’t do that. I didn’t know what to think or do. Could they really stop us from leaving? The bartender did look pretty tough but I figured that Gus and I could probably take him.
We sucked it up and stayed and ordered some charcuterie. It was quite tasty actually – acorn fed Iberian ham, who’s name we were told was Alphonse and was raised Catholic (you could taste the guilt!) just outside the city where everyday he was free to run wild through the fields of tall grass and slept on the shorn flaxen hairs of the village orphans and was massaged everyday by seven virgins whose hands had been soaked in buttermilk and the tears of the bald village children. It was delicious.
The before picture of sweet Alphonse.
Gus enjoyed some large bread.
Anyways, after grumbling our way out of there I discovered we had 5 Euros that had been lurking in my pants. Let’s go for a night-cap! We found a cool little tapas place and ordered the cheapest white wine they had. Another mistake as it had all the qualities of paint thinner mixed with desperation. I had to guide Tami home as sweaty nausea was welling up in her little throat. We made it back and she was fine. What a day.
To sleep and to hope that tomorrow is a better day…
To be continued…