from Seville: New Year's Eve

Outside, the thank-goodness-it's-Friday-and-not-just-any-Friday joviality continued nearly all night long. We’re on the fourth floor of our Madrid hotel and so the sound does not keep us awake. And, in fact, I probably never jet lagged my way out of Europe time because the sleep cycle clicked in for me instantly here.

Still, Ed and I have a habit of being awake at some part of each night, often, as this time, watching a snippet of one thing or another – on this night of a woman teaching her cat to walk on a leash, gratis the New York Times.

One reason to love being away is that the day’s schedule shifts around so much for us then. Ed tends toward a whimsical pace even back home, but when we’re away, our time becomes a fantasy of hours. Eating, hiking, reading, playing, sleeping – they’re all interchangeable. Nothing has to be.

But this Saturday morning we did have to be somewhere – at the train station, by noon. Our backpacks are light – you learn to go lighter each trip, remembering awkward moments of lifting and heaving on previous ones. The day is gloriously bright. Madrid appears very forgiving now. Gentle and still. Like Manhattan on holiday.






Lacking chaos, it becomes very dignified. Almost staid.





And blissfully quiet.






We head back toward the Prado. I want to walk to the train station through the Botanical Gardens there, but we can’t. There’s only one entrance/exit. So I console myself with camera glimpses from the outside.






We’re at the station now. The trains – oh the trains of Europe!


 


335 miles in 2.25 hours. One stop along the way.

Lovely and comfortable and smooth.  I watch the family across the aisle...






...but mostly, I watch the escape from the city (modern housing blocks in Spanish cities are so often like this: irregular rather than boxy, colorful)...






...into the vast, beautiful open spaces. If you had no knowledge of Spain’s agriculture, you would learn from the train ride that olives are a big deal here.





A very big deal.






But as we get closer to Andalucía, the slate green of olive trees gives way to the deep green of oranges leaves. We’re south alright. In less than two and a half hours, we’ve changed climates.


New Year’s Eve in Seville. It just worked out this way. We’ll be hopping around Andalucía – no more than three days in any one place. Seville is merely a good starting point. And, for us, it’s good to get the biggest cities out of the way first. We lose patience with them quickly. The longing for a slower paces overcomes us. And so we begin here, Seville, the capital of Andalucía.





Seville. Beautiful, colorful Seville.

Our tiny hotel is a gem (the Alminar) and it’s just two minutes from the Cathedral—the focal point of the old center. But no one can direct us to it. There, go there. We go there. Nothing. Maybe down that street. Not there either. We wander around like this for a while, never minding one bit, because the street scenes are so beguiling, so captivating, as here, too, life spills out onto the pavement. Usually around bars, cafes and restaurants.






And so we go, up one narrow alley, down the next.






Ah, the Alminar Hotel.  Finally identified... here it is:






We leave our packs at the hotel and set out again. Around the cathedral, inside the cathedral, moving from one square to the next, reading a little on this place, forgetting to do so on another...














...and we continue in this way until I say stop! Lunch break. For me. Ed has eaten an excessive breakfast (don’t let him loose at buffets: he eats enough for the day and refuses meals thereafter). But I’m used to this odd pattern of meals and nonmeals. I have a wonderful salad and a glass of wine...







...and we both indulge ourselves in a protracted period of people watching. You could never tire of it. We never tire of it, Ed and I.












And then we walk again (and we're not the only ones)...


 
 


...through the old Jewish quarter, getting lost there – yes, of course, that’s what you’re supposed to do...
















...emerging once again by the Cathedral.






It’s nearly 11 p.m. as I post this now and I’m breaking from my posting habits just to put this up before midnight. We haven’t eaten supper yet and I’m not quite sure where we'll be for that, or if we’ll be outdoors at midnight. The air turns a chilly 40 then. But this is the time to open the welcoming Cava from Madrid and drink a toast. Ed looks at me half indulgently, half scornfully, but always, always kindly. Here it is – my toast to Ocean readers – Happy New Year to all. May you have a good one.