Andalusia Journal 2004
Seville
11/26-27
The first thing to note is that the night before we were to leave, Eric & I both got food poisoning. We had eaten a nice seafood dinner, beginning with oysters on the half shell — but that didn't turn out to be the problem, since no one else got sick. No, apparently it must have been the burritos we got up the street Monday night (from La Guadalupana; what were we thinking? The place had only been shut down by the health department twice) — after all it usually takes at least 24 hours for food poisoning to surface. In any event, we were both violently ill all night long and hardly slept. I called in sick and we finished packing together, slowly, and closed the house up together, slowly, and made it to the airport. Our sickness made it easier to sleep on the plane — small comfort. We are much better now, though other ill effects still linger on.
We arrived at the Hostal (=cheap Spanish hotel) mid-afternoon Thursday 11/28 (Thanksgiving). It's on a tiny pedestrian street between two small streets (one pedestrian, the other just wide enough for one lane). Inside the hotel is centered on a small tiled courtyard that's covered but surely used to be open. The rooms are dumpy but adequate (comfy beds for the price) and, at night, shockingly cold. Seville is so hot much of the year, they must think of heat as an unnecessary luxury. So, no heat, and the windows didn't shut right. Susanne was especially cold (her thermometer showed 55°), but our room was remarkably noisy (though it did quiet down by late night).
The evenings and mornings are quite cold this time of year, but the afternoons, under the ever-shining Andalusian sun, got quite warm, so dressing in layers was necessary.
The city is quite beautiful — look through almost any foyer and you'll find a gorgeous tiled patio. A large proportion of streets in the center are pedestrian-only, many being too narrow for cars anyway.
We walked around after checking in, getting as far as the edge of the Triana neighborhood, just across the Guadalquivir, and then crossing back to walk through a public garden with a monument to Columbus and bumble a bit through the narrow streets of Santa Cruz, the former Jewish ghetto near the alcázar (palace). On the way back to the hotel we stopped at a nice chain café, Café de Indias, where I had my first bocadillo de jamón of the trip with cheese, it turned out. It was good, but not the best.
For dinner we had simple tapas at a bar-café on San Eloy at the intersection with our hotel's street (I think it was called Bar Café San Eloy). We had jamón bellota (a type of Serrano), ensaladilla (potato salad) and albondigas (meatballs), and it was all very nice, though nothing special (well, the ham was special, but it was a very small serving, my fault for ordering a tapa & not a ración).
11/29
The next morning we were unsure of what to eat – I thought juice & bread would be nice, so I could not then pass up a place called "Jugopan" ("Juicebread"). Eric had coffee & a toasted "mini-baguette" sandwich with jamón, and Susanne & I each had orange juice & a croissant. The croissant was not in fact a good idea (I never like croissants in the morning), and I figured out that what I should have had was a "tostada", a smallish loaf of bread toasted. The tostadas came with many options for toppings, including jamón, butter, marmalade, and "queso Philadephia". The juice was fantastic – both Susanne & I were craving it, and when it came we both drank immediately, had to force ourselves to drink only half at once, and said, simultaneously, "oh, my god" (which was pretty funny). Besides simply hitting the spot, the juice was deliciously – tart and flavorful, a very different taste from American style.
We then walked to see the alcázar, the old (and current) palace. (On the way, I stopped and had another bocadillo de jamón).
The Alcázar was very beautiful. It's almost entirely a mudejar complex, meaning it's a fusion of Spanish-Islamic and Spanish-Christian styles, built by Christians for Christian purposes. Muslim Craftsmen were hired to do a lot of the details, though Christian craftsmen (from Toledo) did some as well. One amusing thing, I thought, was that the Muslim designs often involved calligraphy, which would be typical Muslim phrases like "No one conquers but Allah", which must have been meant as an ironic touch, since the Christians had just reconquered the territory from Muslims. No one conquers but Allah, indeed... it's as if the king of Spain were saying, I'm so unimpressed by Allah that I'll say good things about him that I don't believe just for decorative purposes. (Another thought: maybe the king didn't know what it said; maybe those Muslim craftsmen said, "Oh, that? That's just curlicues, that's not writing.")
We then wandered around Santa Cruz till we found a reasonable pace to eat... a placed called the "Bar Modesto" which had outdoor seating in the plaza outside – a good choice because it meant we wouldn't have to smell anyone's fish dishes (lingering nausea, you see). Eric had a mixed salad and ham with melon. I had a cold tomato soup which was not gazpacho (that was unavailable, though it was on the menu) followed by grilled pork loin. Susanne had baby fava beans with ham. My soup was very good, Susanne's beans were good, and Eric's ham was of course good. The salad was OK, and the pork was overcooked, but it came with yummy little sausages.
We then walked back to our hotel for a siesta – I ended up falling sound asleep for a while.
Sometime after six we left the room again and wandered through the shopping district. Susanne bought some art supplies and I bought some rolled cookies and a multivitamin juice box drink thing. Then we meandered further east, and finally decided it was time to eat. To eat, we decided to go back to Santa Cruz. I was put in charge of the map, and we had gotten pretty far from the areas people normally see, so we had something of a random tour through working-class Seville, ending finally at Santa Cruz.
We settled on tapas at a place called La Sacristia, where we had a plate of variado de la serranía (jamón, queso manchego, and chorizo – good though the ham was lackluster) and a mixed salad (not great – the corn that came on it was not tasty). Susanne and I had a glass of red wine each and Eric had a beer. Eric and I were both feeling a bit better, too.
We walked back to the hotel and went to bed.
11/30
The next morning we went to the same place for breakfast, but this time we had the tostadas, all of us with jamón. Eric had café con leche, Susanne had orange juice, and I had chocolate, because I had read that Sevillian hot chocolate is sort of a "thing" (Andalusia was the first point of contact for chocolate to the western world). The chocolate was very good, and tostadas with ham were the perfect breakfast.
Then we went to the Museo de las Bellas Artes, which is in a former convent – the museum's finest point is really the building, which has several beautiful patios and a beautiful partially frescoed sanctuary (some of the frescoes must have been lost to time, and others seem to be possibly just covered over). The art was mostly religious and therefore not interesting to me (though some of the visions of hell were entertaining, and there was an interesting very detailed and gory sculpture of the severed head of John the Baptist). The later rooms featured impressionist and romantic pictures, often of Andalusian people, and those were much more interesting.
Then we went shoe shopping for Susanne, but didn't find anything. One shoe store was very small and crowded, and while squatting to rest, a knee-high boot fell and clocked me on the back of the head. It was shocking for a moment, but ultimately very funny.
We also went to the grocery store, where we bought little jams for Susanne. I wanted anther multivitamin drink, but they didn't have any, so I had to run to the store where I'd bought it the previous day.
We checked out of the hotel and caught a cab to the train station to get our car. The cab careened down tiny streets and deposited us at the station, where we discovered no Budget Rent-a-Car booth. I asked the customer service desk, and was told that there were two others in the parking lot, so I left Eric and Susanne inside with the bags and went to check it out. Outside were Hertz and National/Atesa, but no Budget sign. So I went back to customer service to use the white pages – I found Budget, and the address was on Avenida Kansas City (outside the station) but with no number (actually "sin numero", meaning "no number"), so I went out to look for it. I walked up and down the street (pretty far), but no luck. I was on my way back to the station when I thought I'd ask the clerk in the parking lot. He knew the office and directed me back to a section I'd looked at before, but not too closely, so I went back to that part and walked up and down, no luck. So I stopped in the hotel near where I was told it was (Hotel Sevilla, I think) and asked there, and she said just continue down the street a little, it's right there – but that was where I'd just checked, and I really just felt like crying at this point (I must have been exceptionally tired). So I walked to the end of the street again, and stopped in the store there. The clerk didn't know the place, and I didn't know what to do, so I went back to the train station. Over an hour had passed since we had arrived at the station.
Eric and Susanne were waiting for me outside (enough time had passed that they assumed I'd have the car). I went back to customer service and asked the man to call the number in the phone book for me (explaining that my Spanish wasn't good enough). He called and reported back to me that the number was no good.
So, shit, what to do? We apparently had a reservation for a car with a company that didn't exist in Spain. Well, this is why you pay for these things with American Express, and in fact why I have AmEx at all. I called them collect, and they put me through to Budget. The guy at Budget put me through to his manager, who looked it up and found that Budget contracted through National/Atesa in Seville, and I should go to that counter. I pitched a fit on the phone at this point, since this information wasn't anywhere I my reservation, and knowing it would have saved a lot of time and frustration. I was given the number for customer relations, so I could call them when we are back in the states and demand restitution (but did I? noooo).
When we finally got on the road it was a full two hours after we'd initially arrived at the station.