So on our first full day in Spain, we’d assigned it to go sight-seeing in Seville, but first things first ... our DC tickets. At 9 am sharp, we were in reception but only to be encountered by a young woman who spoke even less English than the girl we had seen the previous day, so talk of speaking to her Jeffe and tickets and the like were falling on deaf ears. However, plucky Rafan persevered and repeated use of the words “Copa” and “Davis” created a light bulb moment for our young chica and she hurried out of the reception and came back ... clutching a UPS envelope in her hand. OUR TICKETS!! Phew, thank the Lord above and hallelujah ... it had finally all worked out and we were going to the DC semi-final!! So we tucked the tickets away in our room and could finally relax and start to try to get into our holiday.
But before I carry on, lets mention The “Heap” Factor. I’d felt a right old heap from the minute I stepped off the plane because hot weather and me of the sweaty head are not a good combination for that which I fuss over most ... you’ve guessed it ... my hair. It frizzes up, it flicks out and is a disaster, but the one saving grace is that I don’t actually have to look at myself and just deign to put up with it ... but :moan: :moan: :moan: all the while in Rafan’s ears. However, the melting heat also made me face another dilemma ... make up. When we went for our little early evening walk in Cordoba the previous night, I’d put some suncream on and also put some on my face. But the heat and the sweat made it run into my left eye first which blinded me and watered so much, I ended up with mascara all down my left side. And then a little while later, the same thing happened in my right eye and a kindly shop keeper took pity on me and gave me some tissues as I mopped up the streaming black river pouring down the other side of my face. Suffice to say, scores for the Heap Factor that previous night ... 8/10. Anyhow, all this lead me to the decision that for this holiday at least I was going to do something I never, ever, ever usually do ... and that was to go completely without make up when out publicly.
So with my bare face and frizzy hair, Rafan and I set off to walk to the bus station, stopping on the way to get some breakfast. The place we chose to eat was in one of the windy, quiet streets so it was full of jabbering Spanish and the waiter came to us and said several words to us in Spanish which I suppose were the ‘plats du jour’ for breakfast, and not understanding what he was saying, we just said “si” to everything cos how could we go wrong with toast and coffee ?? You know how sometimes Rafa gives us these little gems about what he eats :vomit: and Rafan reminded me that he said he had toast with olive oil for breakfast, well ... we were brought a sample of this “toast” ... a gluten filled brick that without careful application, could take your crowns out ... so we eschewed covering it with olive oil and this tomato paste the Spanish also applied and were thankful that we could scrape some butter over it. Lunch at breakfast time I did not want to have, and whilst it may have only cost a couple of euros, it wasn’t going any way to convince us that the food in Spain is anything other than rudey poo. Breakfast 3/10.
So we walked to the train station and got our train (the trains being the only thing we liked in Spain so far), and arrived in Seville late morning. Now neither one of us has any great sense of direction, however, we did reasonably well to negotiate our way towards the centre of Seville, but to be honest, the place was a dump as walked to approach it. I mainly just had 2 major things to do on my bossy sightseeing itinerary and that was to visit the Cathedral and see the Palace, and I also fancied this Plaza d’Espana place, and whilst I knew we were close to the Cathedral, we couldn’t quite get things right with using the map ... quelle surprise. But the previous night, Rafan had suggested that we took a sightseeing bus whilst we were there which would give us some bearings and helps to make your mind up what you want to hop on and hop off to see. So as we’d gone a bit wrong with the map and were on the main road, we purchased a ticket for the princely sum of 17 euros each and made our way to the big, red bus.
It was stinking hot again, and I’d forgotten my hat which was bothering me a bit because I knew that if I got sunstroke, Rafan would call a doctor for me ... and then promptly dump me whist she went ahead to enjoy the delights of The Armada. But getting on this bus we were be-sieged by hawkers selling hats, but one look at that wimmin’s sombrero and I instantly knew that my massive heed would not fit into it, so I would have to take my chances. We were also looking forward to getting a bit of breeze whilst on the top of the bus, and after inhaling exhaust fumes, eventually, we were ready to go.
What a disappointment. OK, yeah ... there were one or two interesting buildings to look at, but basically, it was like being driven around Manchester in rush hour. Where was this “beautiful” Seville that people are always going on about and there were actually only FOUR stops on this bus route, non of which compelled you to get off. And yes, we did enjoy the breeze, but it was so bad that it meant that our hair was giving us whiplash as it smacked and covered our faces, and then we were taken across the river, over a bridge to some such other manky neighbourhood where you felt you would be robbed at knife-point if you got off ... oh and get this, we had to do our best to avoid getting smacked in the face by overhanging branches as the bus hurtled its way through Dodge City. The Heap Factor rating was steadily rising to a 6/10.
Pants, rats, and every puta curse you can possibly think off. We then were taken through some flattened area that had once been the site of a Seville exho and there was nowt of note to look at now, before crossing the river again, being taken by the side of the bullring which was perhaps one of the most notable buildings to look at ... but of course the guide thingy never mentioned it and then there we were, back at our stop. What a waste of money. Seville Big Red Bus tour thingy ... 2/10.
But we went back to the bullring for a bit of a better look and then hunger was taking us over and we skipped, hopped and leapt at the prospect of another yummy Spanish meal. We plonked ourselves in a restaurant and ordered a Club Salad which – apart from the fact that it was swimming in Balsamic vinegar – was actually OK. In fact, some French people who must have been suffering also from the food asked us what we were having because it actually looked edible. And would you believe it, the Cathedral was just up the road from where we were. And then finally ... it felt like the real Seville that I had come to see was opening up for us. This area was stunning. Beautiful plazas, the horses and carriages, the Cathedral was a sight to behold, orange trees were growing ... it was just great.
We paid to go inside the Cathedral and without looking it up, its about the second or third largest church in the world after St Peter’s. And it was magnificent, huge. And I suppose it helped to keep us out of the heat for a while too. It also had a lovely cobbled courtyard outside with some fountains and it was really, really impressive. At last an opportunity to get the camera out and start taking some snaps. Speaking of which, Rafan is doing a delightful project at the moment of flora and fauna and that she intends to send to Mr Boots to turn into a :censored: calendar for next year. So not to miss an opportunity, once outside of the Cathedral, she scurried across the road to take a photograph of a real orange in a real orange tree, growing in Seville. Hehe. Well, she needs to do something to make an income to pay for all of these Rafatrips.
Next stop was the Palace, but whilst we made our way, we saw a wire-haired dachshund just like Denzy’s brood, so Rafan took a photograph of him. I don’t really know how I can best describe the palace in Seville to give it justice, because I was blown away by it. There’s a lot of Moorish architecture, with tiles and gold coverings and the like. I mean, there’s this central area with a pond and fountain and its all surrounded by these archways and columns and its really just totally fab. Loved it. I love looking at architecture and historical places (can you tell?), and Rafan left me sitting there just taking it all in ... and later confessed that once you’ve seen one arch, it all starts to get a bit “samey”. LOL.
The gardens of the Palace were also a thing of beauty. They were everything that you expect to see in a Spanish setting and I loved that they were so typical. It was during our garden wanderings that Rafan continued in her Doctor RafanDolittle photographer mode as she went haring after a peacock to photograph it, she took a picture of a dove sitting on a pipe that fed a fountain, and was enthralled when the pea hen appeared with its babies. For all the magnificence of the Palace, she then later revealed that her most favourite picture that she’d taken that day ... was the one of the dog.
Cathedral and Palace .... 10/10.
We then left this lovely area to go back on our red tour bus because I was too hot and knackered to walk to the Plaza d’Espana and what the hell ... like a bit more of a birds nest to the hair was going to make a difference. Now I don’t know why its called the Plaza d’Espana cos really you’re going to a palace that Queen Isabella gave her sister and its grounds, all of which are now turned over to the public as a park. But what another gem this palace turned out to be. There’s like a waterway in front of it, with bridges over it and you can take a boat to travel round it. There’s a square with a lovely fountain there ... its really, really lovely. The opulence and the craftsmanship that goes into these things and they are hundreds of years old ... I mean, they really are a marvel. We then went into the grounds and went looking for this fountain with lions (found it) and then passed a fountain with frogs (note the animal themes) and I was getting pretty tired by this stage so we had a bit of a sit down and Dr RafanDolittle was thrilled because in a hole in the wall above our head, some manky old pigeon was just sitting there ... and she photographed it. There was one other building that I’d expressed an interest to see but then thought I couldn’t be bothered cos I was tired ... but Rafan made me ... and I’m pleased she did because once again, they were fab. And in front of them were ponds and fountains and lily pads ... and can you believe this, the old flora and fauna photographer took a picture of the lily pads and she later discovered she’d actually caught a frog sitting on it.
Boots will pay extra for that one.
But it was getting time for us to go, so we started on the long trek back to the railway station. Along the way we stopped and made the most brilliant purchase of the entire stay ... a couple of Spanish fans for the bargain price of 5 euros. I won’t give them a score out of 10, cos they turned out to be priceless.
I also won’t go on about the absolute cow in the eaterie in the station who lied to Rafan and said that she didn’t have what she was trying to order ... bearing in mind the only fare on offer there was ham and cheese butties. So I was forced to walk to the other end of the station in a mission to find something to eat, only to end up back in the original place where someone served us with what we wanted in the first place. Food in Spain fell to 2/10. And oh, by the way ... the Heap Factor by this stage had risen to a whopping 8.5/10.
So that was Seville. For anyone thinking of going, then do so. Persevere with the horrid bits, plan your places of interest and just be marvelled by the fantastic gems you will find. It took us a long while to get going there, but I don’t regret for one minute us taking the time to do so. We collapsed in our beds by 10.30 pm ... Rafacougars really do know how to rock and roll.
And what was to await us when we woke up in the morning?? ... Rafatime!!
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