Our excursion in Sevilla began at La Plaza Nueva, where we joined a dozen others for a Rick Steves-recommended walking tour with Señora Concepción Delgado. The wry-humored teacher took us on a fascinating jaunt through hidden alleys; a small ornately Baroque church; courtyards harboring clues to the town's Phoenician, Roman, and Moorish past; and the walled barrio of Santa Cruz, where trendy cafés now line the streets of the former Jewish ghetto.
We continued our own tour after the group dispersed, randomly following paths shaded by leafy orange trees and savoring a tapas lunch at Cerveceria Giralda (3 Mateos Gago) that I can only describe as... magnificent -- all under the watchful eye of La Giralda, whose bell tower is visible from almost every vantage point in the city center.
We caught a late-afternoon train out of Sevilla, mentally prepared for the 15-minute window and potential Amazing Race dash to our connection in Córdoba. While I was eagerly anticipating the sprint, my traveling companion was far less enthusiastic. Lucky for him, we arrived in Córdoba a few minutes early and caught our connecting train on an adjacent platform. Destination: the port city of Algeciras.*
The second leg of our ride was uneventful until the last hour when the scenery changed dramatically. Olive tree farms and fields of goats gave way to lush green mountains and a more winding route that caused the cars to creak and moan at each curve. Then as we neared Algeciras, I gasped at the silhouettes of gigantic storks (2-3 feet tall) standing in equally wide nests perched atop telephone poles -- like sentinels welcoming us to port.
Upon arriving in Algeciras, my naïve craving for "adventure" got us lost en route from the station to the hotel. But thanks to a lovely trio of chatty ladies, plus some broken Spanish and lots of animated gesticulating, we were escorted to the closest intersection to our destination. After an apprehensive hike through an eerily dark and silent patch of road, possibly the longest 10 minutes of my life, we cried "Hallelujah!" when the hotel loomed ahead.
Our gratefulness towards the kind strangers and for our safe arrival overshadowed the fact that the hotel had transitioned to "winter mode" that same day, meaning they had shut down its air conditioning for the rest of the year,...despite the 90 degree temps outside. In the hot breeze of the oscillating fan that we borrowed from the front desk, I drifted off to sleep with a wry smile on my face.
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*Algeciras = pronounced "al-hay-ci-rah"
1 comment:
sleep would have been a good thing were it not for the pool of my own sweat i had to lie in. oh well - sevilla was nice :) ah, good memories -a
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