We arrived in sweltering Seville just before lunch (our lunch, not the Spanish lunch, which I have yet to properly understand. We seem to be either too early or too late, but that’s also the perfect summary of mine and Tim’s personalities, so there we are). We had about 24 hours in the city so wanted to make the most of it, which for us means wandering, eating, and looking at lizards or other small spottable creatures. Our pickle was that we were somewhat frazzled post travel and the idea of walking around town in near 40 degree heat was rather unpalatable. Enter: horse and cart.
(We opted to take this for a few reasons. The primary one was that once they saw it, the kids were super keen. The other was we were super lazy and didn’t want to confront the heat. After about two minutes I felt dreadful. The horse was managing the heat and all of us for the better part of an hour in peak siesta time. My consolation was that we stopped regularly, and I saw the driver pause and give him water on several occasions as well as a full hose down when we finished. Still: thank you, noble steed. Also, my son is now your number one fan (he waves at all the horse-and-carts now, garbage men forgotten) my lass thinks she’s a princess.
Walking or trotting, Seville is a treat. The fourth largest city in Spain, it has the hustle and bustle you’d expect from an urban hub, coupled with slow pace that we’re starting to appreciate from the Spanish, in one of their hottest cities. A contradiction, sure, but one you feel as you plod along the streets which seem to move just as quickly as the charming chattery Spanish language around you. We spent a lot of time wandering the shaded narrow alleys, tripping over stones and getting pleasantly lost as we searched for ice creams and parks and each other (we got separated sans technology and had to revert to old school meet up principles).
Now we’re back on the road, we’re reverted to the one place / one meal approach to travelling. In Seville, the one place was a mighty one: the Alcázar. I’d been to the beautiful palace before, but as is apparently thematic on this holiday I barely remembered any of it. The site it stands on has been occupied since 800BC: it’s been used for the military, numerous churches, as a stable and warehouses and eventually a palace. It is now an extraordinarily well preserved example of Moorish architecture, and is the oldest occupied palace in Europe as well as a UNESCO site due to its garden’s diversity.
Enough of the blurb: the Alcázar speaks for itself.
The palace and its surrounding grounds are enormous. There is room after perfectly tiled room, hidden courtyards, cool nooks in which one can get lost, and impeccably manicured gardens. If it wasn’t for a pressing agenda and two not entirely relaxed children, we could have spent weeks exploring it. As it was, we settled for goldfish spotting in the ponds, and cheesy family snaps.
And, of course, splashing in any available fountain.
At one point – one loses track of time in such a place – the kids and I found ourselves in a long, cool room hung with tapestries and tiled with hand-painted folklore. Despite the fact that I might look cranky, we were actually discussing what the lion slash dragon situation was.
To the delight of our almost-over-it kids, the immense gardens featured a maze. Our Addie led the way, while I carried a less than enthusiastic Ted in her wake.
The last time I was in Seville, the oranges were at peak ripeness. I remember sitting at a bar on the river and having them plonk heavily next to me as they fell off the trees, their almost cloying scent catching us unawares. This time of year, they are just forming: bursting their glossy roundness against the green leaves, everywhere you look across the city.
We had places to be and phone conferences to call into, so our visit was shorter than we’d ideally have liked. On our way out of the sweet city, we stopped for a much anticipated treat: churros. Tim and I had regaled the children with tales of amazing straight doughnuts that could actually be dunked into – gasp – warm chocolate. Thankfully – like on every other measure – Seville delivered.