Since I last left you, quite a bit has been going on in our Spanish world. I finished my application to be the Health Tech/Gym Teacher and am trying to get that faxed in to the headquarter's office. Unfortunately, there is only one commercial fax on base, and it's in the library. I feel bad having other people do all the work for me...
On Sunday we went to one of Elliot's co-worker's houses in La Ramira for chicken wings and Sunday night football. Fortunately, the Bears game was first, so I didn't have to stay up to the crack of dawn to watch our boys take down the Seahawks (although that really wasn't that hard to do...). The guy and his fiancee's house was really nice, and the food was in abundance. We had bbq'ed wings, homemade salsa and vinegar-based coleslaw, and these homemade potato chips from Utrera that are known as "crack chips" b/c you can't stop eating them. The nickname is appropriate: If it weren't for the bag slowly emptying, I would have kept on munching. So much for that diet.... It was a fun night of football, and the company was great: basically all dudes except for me and Kelly (the fiancee). One guy has a "Dirty South" tattoo and is about as Southern as you can get. Bit of a potty-mouth (so I liked him immediately) but funny as all get out. Good times were had by all. Apparently they're doing it again this Sunday, so we may be partaking once again. Will keep you posted.
One thing I am constantly in awe of living in Spain is the fashion sense of women. No matter what time of day it is, they are always dressed to the 9's and always, I mean always, wearing knee-length (or higher) boots. They could be wearing gym shorts and a bikini top, and you can bet they'll have a pair of fringed leather boots to complement the outfit. Boots everywhere; women of all ages. I often find myself glancing down at my flip-flopped feet and feeling slightly inadequate. Another hot trend that is sweeping the nation is for a woman to wear tights with cut-off jean shorts and, you guessed it, boots. Sometimes the boots are Pretty Woman length; other times, ankle length. But they are always there.... lurking around every corner.
On Monday, Elliot, Craig, and I finally made our way to Sevilla. There is a train station in Utrera that offers free commuter parking, so it's not a hassle to take the train. Actually, it's preferable to take the train b/c parking is crazy expensive in Sevilla, and the drivers are horrendous. For the three of us to take the train and metro to downtown Sevilla, it only cost 23 euro, whereas day parking would be 30 euro. Snaps for saving the moolah. The train ride isn't bad at all, and we are at the new Sevilla metro in about 25 minutes. The metro's website advertises "4 lines!", but in actuality only one is finished. That made for less confusion and waiting though, so I'm not complaining. The metro is brand-new and incredibly clean; like DC, they have monitors that let you know when the next trains are coming. We only had to take the metro 2 stops before we got off at San Bernardo, 2 blocks from the Cathedral.
After having a deliciously Spanish breakfast consisting of a Starbucks mocha and chocolate chip muffin, we walked around Sevilla for about two and a half hours. I took plenty of pictures, and those are really the only things that can do that city justice. Sevilla is everything you would picture an European city to be: narrow, cobblestone roads, orange trees lining the streets, lots of colorful buildings that advertise ceramics and tapas, and lots of people smoking. They just passed the law banning smoking indoors, so all of the nicotine fans have to take it outside. It seems that everyone smokes in Spain, which makes it difficult to go running through the city at any time. Also, marijuana and hashish (which I thought was marijuana, but is supposedly different) are legal in Spain, so you'll occasionally catch a whiff of teenagers on siesta from school hittin' the pipe. It's still looked down upon, and it is illegal to sell it. If someone is caught buying it, they are also arrested. Which makes me wonder why it's legal in the first place? I dunno. Oh, the Spanish! I also saw Salvia for sale with other spices and herbs at a market, so I guess that is the big thing ever since Miley Cyrus got busted smoking it out of a bong. Yours truly will not be partaking in any shenanigans, legal or otherwise.
Ok, back to Sevilla. The first thing you notice when you get off the metro is, of course, the Cathedral. It is, after all, the largest Gothic one in the world; makes it kind of hard to miss. It is absolutely massive, and the stone looks like an aged khaki color. The spires, carvings, and detail are just breathtaking, and I must have taken 1,000 pictures from every angle of the cathedral. Going inside costs money, and since Craig has been there a million times, seeing Cristobal Colon's bones (yep, they're in there) will have to be on our next trip downtown. It's a pretty unreal sight though, and you definitely feel very small next to it.
After avoiding a few gypsy women's attempts to bless us with branches they must have torn off a bush, we wandered around the different parks near the Cathedral and crossed the river over into Triana and Plaza de Cuba. We bypassed the Alcazar gardens and mansion, since I heard those are good for a day when it's sunny (it wasn't) and you have time to sit and read (we didn't). On our way, we passed the Arena del Toro (Bullfighting Arena). For being constructed in the 1700's, it looks pretty dang new. The bullfights are between Easter and the fall, so we will definitely be partaking in one of those at some point. As gory as they may be, I feel like you have to do it when you're in Spain. After crossing a busy pedestrian bridge, we reached Triana. Triana is a neighborhood across the Guadalquivir River and is one of the birthplaces of Flamenco dancing. It is also known for its abundance of pottery and ceramic shops. There are shops on every corner it seems, yet they all have unique merchandise. You can get something as simple as your address in small tiles, or something as elaborate as a fountain with the image of St. Anthony on it. We spotted some neat red and green ceramic plates, bowls, and mugs at one shop, and we'll be heading back there around Christmastime. More than half the cost of real China, and it's hand-made in Spain. Can't beat that!
Plaza de Cuba is another neighborhood in Sevilla and really isn't anything to write home about: just more bars and restaurants. We stopped for a beer to rest our feet before meeting Carlos (a contractor who works with Elliot), his wife Brighana (not sure about the spelling; pronounced 'Bree-jean (French pronunciation)-uh") , and their two kids for lunch. The girls were 6 and 4 and immediately started talking to me. They were super cute, and one of them goes to the school on base. If I'm lucky enough to get the job, she'll be one of my students! We went to a nicer tapas restaurant for lunch, and Elliot and I decided on the ham croquettes (not as good as the ones we got before) and what was advertised as "fried chorizo and fried potatoes". Well, naturally we ordered that, thinking we would get some potato wedges and a thick sausage that was deep-fried. What we got instead was a plate of French fries with a grilled hot dog cut up on top. For that, we paid 12 euro. Boooooo. Next time, we hit the Irish pub there for French fries.
Let me tell ya, that hot dog was not making my stomacho feel the besto, so I smiled through getting coffee and the train ride home, when all I really wanted was to lie down and cradle my gut in the fetal position. Thank you for the memories Sevilla, but I will no longer be eating your hot dogs...
There's a really good Cuban restaurant called Azucar in downtown Sevilla...totally don't remember the street - near a bridge? Anyway, so good!
ReplyDelete