We've lived amongst them now for 4 months. We've eaten their food, drank their wine, beer, mojito's, tinto verano´s etc. Walked their streets, driven on their roads, swam at their beaches, been burned by their sun ...and the odd shopkeeper. We've laughed with them and at them, been helped and hindered by them, been beaten by them (Holland only) ..ah those funky Spaniards, so what do we think so far?
First let me say this for a bit of clarification. There are those who come to visit Spain, see the monuments, churches etc, eat the tapas, slurp the wine and then get back on the bus, lets call them type A. Then there are those who come to live in Spain, not for Spain but specifically for the sunshine and the cheap booze. Let´s call them type B. There are those who for work reasons might have to spend time here albeit temporary and already have an exit strategy in place, type C. Then there are those who have come here to live, embrace the culture, start a new life, find jobs, learn the language etc, type D. We're a couple of double Ds.
Type A never have to have any dealings with the Spanish apart from the bus driver, guide and the person in the souvenir shop. They are protected from having to speak the language, order food or try and negotiate the narrow streets with a map they printed off Google. Type B also never have to deal with the Spanish except the barmen who will pour them a warm beer, or the waiters who can serve up a full English breakfast 24 hours a day, karaoke machine operators and local police, who all speak English with British accents and these are confined to the Costa's, or ghettos if you like. Type C have everything done for them before they arrive to work here, visas, accommodation, residency papers, bank accounts etc. Really don't have to learn the language if they choose not to or eat a morsel of Spanish food ever.
Then there is us, the D's. Our 'local' friends... meaning people we have met here, made up of Dutch, Irish, American, British and even some Spanish have all marvelled at how much we have achieved in the 4 months since we landed in Sevilla. Indeed we have achieved many things. But we do look at them with some amusement, or delusion. All these things could have been achieved in four weeks anywhere else. Things take time, you need endless amounts of patience, tolerance, self control, anger management, more Spanish than we speak and lots of time. Heaps of it in fact. Here´s a few small examples. One of the first things you need to get when you arrive in Spain and you intend to spend time living here is an NIE number. You go to the offices, you fill out a form (hopefully the correct one for there are many many forms) take a ticket and wait. As you sit and wait for your number to come up on the wall ticket number display thing, you realise that you are number 410 and the display says 14. There are plenty of people also waiting, certainly not 400! After about half an hour the machine has clicked over to 15. A rough calculation says it will take about a year and a half to get seen. What you have to actually do is get up, walk into the room as if it was your turn and sit at a desk and hand over the crumpled ticket. In this room of about 10 desks, 5 are occupied, one is actually doing something, the other four are just sitting there, arms folded looking into space. Not even playing solitaire or online poker and pretending to be busy. Second was the social services office and Mags' attempt to get a social security insurance number. More forms, take a ticket and wait with the rest of the em..waiting people. After about half an hour a woman comes out from the offices to announce... anyone with a ticket starting with G, find something to do for the next hour because I am off to have my coffee! No one got upset, no riot, they just continued as they were, some drifted outside for a cigarette. Try that at your local office in Australia or Holland and see what happens.
If you are fortunate enough in Spain to have a job in the civil service, you have a job for life and no one is ever going to question whether you work or drink coffee all day. We are still coming to terms with the attitude of the locals. We knew before hand that things were very relaxed here. I don't think there is a word for stress in the Spanish language because that is a place no one here has ever been. They have what they call here a traditional outlook on life, they like how things are and have been since Franco got into power and many believe he still is and not dead over 35 years. We just call it backward. There have been some attempts to drag Spain into 21st century Europe, but this has met with too much opposition, mostly fear of change. We deal with the obstacles and the pig headedness with a smile between clenched teeth and the gentle stream of visitors keep us sane ...for the moment.
Take care
M&P
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Monday, July 5, 2010
Get out of town...
Andalusia, this place they call the real Spain in the in the seventeen autonomous communities in the Kingdom of Spain, an historical nationality, 8.3 million souls (official) and a few million pommy ex-pats along the costas (un-official), along with the few scattered inland like us. The capital of Andalusia is called Sevilla. Currently the hottest place on the planet with the sun beating down on us from early morning till late at night which time the general population has turned crispy and crackly.
But what has this to do with being a month late with this blog? Ok, well not a lot, but, we did get out of town and down to the coast to slightly cooler temperatures and relief from the daily grind of long breakfasts, siestas, tapas bars, hanging out at the local attractions and monuments (note: when you´re a registered local you don´t pay into anything that tourists do ...handy for us and the budget) and generally trying to stay in the shade or shady places.
The coast is about an hour and a half away, Cadiz and Huelva are the main towns. Cadiz is beautiful, old and one of the most densely populated cities in Europe for it´s size and also home to the Spanish Navy, formerly the Armada, you know, tall ships, invasions, gold coins, pirates etc etc... Anyway, we hired a car over the past few weekends and ventured south in search of sand and surf. This is what we found.
Cadiz is lovely, old, interesting and great beaches. So we´re told but didn´t get to the sand that day we were there. Huelva is a bit more industrrial, more of a port city than Cadiz which was useful for Christopher Columbus spreading his Spanishness throughout the Western world.
Inland from there we stopped in a village called Vejer http://www.vejer.com/ a typical ´white´village but the most beautiful we had seen. If you were to sit in your garden sipping a mojito, listening to Paco de Lucia, chewing on a cigarello, tapas of olives and serrano jamon under your almond blossom tree (bliss) and trying to imagine in your mind the perfect Spanish whitewashed village, perched precariously on the side of a hill, then Vejer is it. So far by a long shot, our favourite Spanish town. If we get kicked out of Sevilla for complaining too much about the heat (que calor), then we will slip quietly into Vejer.
Anyway, back to reality. World cup fever has gripped the nation. The country are convinced, at the time of writing this, that Spain will annihilate the Germans and however, Mags has other ideas and believes that Holland will take the cup, I tend to agree.
This is the end of this report. Will add photos tonight and another report tomorrow. Hope you are all well...and keeping cool :)
M&P
But what has this to do with being a month late with this blog? Ok, well not a lot, but, we did get out of town and down to the coast to slightly cooler temperatures and relief from the daily grind of long breakfasts, siestas, tapas bars, hanging out at the local attractions and monuments (note: when you´re a registered local you don´t pay into anything that tourists do ...handy for us and the budget) and generally trying to stay in the shade or shady places.
The coast is about an hour and a half away, Cadiz and Huelva are the main towns. Cadiz is beautiful, old and one of the most densely populated cities in Europe for it´s size and also home to the Spanish Navy, formerly the Armada, you know, tall ships, invasions, gold coins, pirates etc etc... Anyway, we hired a car over the past few weekends and ventured south in search of sand and surf. This is what we found.
Cadiz is lovely, old, interesting and great beaches. So we´re told but didn´t get to the sand that day we were there. Huelva is a bit more industrrial, more of a port city than Cadiz which was useful for Christopher Columbus spreading his Spanishness throughout the Western world.
Anyway, back to reality. World cup fever has gripped the nation. The country are convinced, at the time of writing this, that Spain will annihilate the Germans and however, Mags has other ideas and believes that Holland will take the cup, I tend to agree.
This is the end of this report. Will add photos tonight and another report tomorrow. Hope you are all well...and keeping cool :)
M&P
Monday, May 31, 2010
Sevillianos V The Tourists
Monday morning, 10am or thereabouts and the city is awake and the heat of the day is creeping in. The bars along the backstreets are full with the ten o clock coffee drinkers, which is everyone it seems having their break, coffee in one hand and their tostada with jamon or tomato paste in the other and a cigarette jammed between the spare fingers for whatever it takes to kick off your day again. I´m on the way to the fruit shop for the fruit ...well what else and daily observe this occurrence. It´s a ritual for the Sevillianos and up on the main streets, the obedient lines of tourists follow the umbrella, cap, shoe, stick or whatever is being held aloft by the guide and gaze skyward in awe, pointing and snapping in unison at the ancient buildings and anything vaguely interesting they can point their minute digital lenses at. Mostly Americans, Japanese or Germans with a smattering of Brits, those that probably don´t find much solace in the coastal ghettos of karaoke bars.
Sevilla attracts a different kind of tourist. Let me try and explain and not offend anyones sensibilities again (I got a lot of flack over the bullfighting story). Firstly there are the Americans.. package tours, off the big bus, whisked around the various monuments, given a potted history lesson, taken to the relative safety and familiarity of McDonalds and Starbucks for feeding and then back on the bus... whole show takes about an hour, hardly time to grasp they are actually in a foreign country. The Japanese, an enigma on the tourist trail. They stick with the umbrella/flag carrier gripped with fear that they might get lost or left behind and as 99% of Spaniards don´t speak or are afraid to speak English, this would spell disaster. Now the difference here is that they only see the city through the lenses of their tiny digital cameras which seem to be permanently glued to their heads. The difference here is that they do actually stop at the local bars and restaurants, don´t actually eat or drink, smile constantly and take photos of what´s put in front of them and retrieve some spring rolls or left over sushi from their back packs once they escape the confines of the taverna. As for the rest, wandering aimlessly through the city, eyes down on maps gripped intensely in sweaty hands as they negotiate the narrow cobbled streets trying to find their way into the cathedral or the Alcazar, giving up and finding themselves instead in the smokey taverna recently vacated by the Japanese and eyes move from maps to the ´local´menu accompanied with roughly translated English bearing no resemblance to what will end up on your plate. But lets face it, your paying 2 Euros for tapas, so there´s room for experimentation. Some will try and some will head for the bright airy menu of McDonalds... where would we be.
Then, there are the Spaniards, the local Sevillianos. If the word around Europe and the rest of the world is one of doom and gloom or as a friend, who warned me not to leave Australia because the roof was falling in on Europe said, I have yet to see evidence here in Andalucia. In three months I´ve discovered the Spanish to be generally an optimistic lot. Exceptionally friendly, helpful to a fault and no complaining about the woes of the world. They are very social and indeed meet their friends and colleagues for morning coffee or tapas before siesta time on a daily basis. Friendship is very important especially the social aspect of the tavernas and cafes. They get very crowded, loud and jovial, have their coffees etc and back to work.
The heat has decended and seems to be getting hotter every day. Between 1 and 4 the streets are almost deserted, apart from the tourist busses constantly churning out the various tourist groups who race for the shady parts of the street. We have many months ahead of summer... ole!
One final thing... our stuff finally arrived from the ship, delivered almost damage free, but the best thing is we have our stuff around us again ...another ole!
Sevilla attracts a different kind of tourist. Let me try and explain and not offend anyones sensibilities again (I got a lot of flack over the bullfighting story). Firstly there are the Americans.. package tours, off the big bus, whisked around the various monuments, given a potted history lesson, taken to the relative safety and familiarity of McDonalds and Starbucks for feeding and then back on the bus... whole show takes about an hour, hardly time to grasp they are actually in a foreign country. The Japanese, an enigma on the tourist trail. They stick with the umbrella/flag carrier gripped with fear that they might get lost or left behind and as 99% of Spaniards don´t speak or are afraid to speak English, this would spell disaster. Now the difference here is that they only see the city through the lenses of their tiny digital cameras which seem to be permanently glued to their heads. The difference here is that they do actually stop at the local bars and restaurants, don´t actually eat or drink, smile constantly and take photos of what´s put in front of them and retrieve some spring rolls or left over sushi from their back packs once they escape the confines of the taverna. As for the rest, wandering aimlessly through the city, eyes down on maps gripped intensely in sweaty hands as they negotiate the narrow cobbled streets trying to find their way into the cathedral or the Alcazar, giving up and finding themselves instead in the smokey taverna recently vacated by the Japanese and eyes move from maps to the ´local´menu accompanied with roughly translated English bearing no resemblance to what will end up on your plate. But lets face it, your paying 2 Euros for tapas, so there´s room for experimentation. Some will try and some will head for the bright airy menu of McDonalds... where would we be.
Then, there are the Spaniards, the local Sevillianos. If the word around Europe and the rest of the world is one of doom and gloom or as a friend, who warned me not to leave Australia because the roof was falling in on Europe said, I have yet to see evidence here in Andalucia. In three months I´ve discovered the Spanish to be generally an optimistic lot. Exceptionally friendly, helpful to a fault and no complaining about the woes of the world. They are very social and indeed meet their friends and colleagues for morning coffee or tapas before siesta time on a daily basis. Friendship is very important especially the social aspect of the tavernas and cafes. They get very crowded, loud and jovial, have their coffees etc and back to work.
The heat has decended and seems to be getting hotter every day. Between 1 and 4 the streets are almost deserted, apart from the tourist busses constantly churning out the various tourist groups who race for the shady parts of the street. We have many months ahead of summer... ole!
One final thing... our stuff finally arrived from the ship, delivered almost damage free, but the best thing is we have our stuff around us again ...another ole!
Friday, May 14, 2010
Plaza Del Toro ...or death in the afternoon
After 8 weeks in Sevilla, it was finally time to visit Plaza Del Toro, Sevilla´s bullring. James Michener in his book Íberia´ wrote that Sevilla had one of the finest bullrings in Spain. I have to agree that it is majestic and very beautiful, but I haven´t actually seen any others. I have never been to a bullfight and also, I have never had for a moment, any reservations about going.
The way I see it is, this is very much part of Spanish culture and has been for a very long time. It´s also very much part of the life of Sevilla and it´s not for me to judge or condone. Many friends asked me before I came to Sevilla if I would attend a bullfight. I said I absolutely would. Some were horrified of course and that´s fine. Let me indulge myself here for a moment. I have a creative mind, that´s what I do. I have to look at the whole picture and not just the slaughter of a defenseless animal.
It´s Sunday afternoon, warm and dry as Sevilla tends to be. A quick stop at a taverna for some wine and a rundown from Sean (seasoned attendee and local artist) of what to expect. ¨Did you bring a cigar?¨he asked me. Important to smoke a havana cigar, part of the culture. You could of course go the whole way and get a panama hat and a crumpled old linen suit ala Graeme Greene, but the cigar would suffice. We joined the crowd around one of the many gates that lead into Plaza Del Toro. You could feel the anticipation. This is mostly about the expectations of the crowd as to the skill of the matador and the bravery of the bull. Let me compare this to the Roman Coliseum for a moment. The crowd are ruthless, they are here for a show of bravery and skill not only on the part of the matador, but also on the bull. Mistakes and showmanship are not applauded, but punished and heckled. Inside, the arena is quite magnificent. Ancient architecture and hard concrete seats. The crowd waits patiently in the afternoon sun. The sand of the arena is a bright golden colour, smooth and flat awaiting the entrance of the bull.
This is how it works. There are five fights in all, or five bulls. The bulls weigh between 450kgs and 550kgs. They spend five years in the pastures grazing on the finest grass and are raised specifically for their 20 minutes in the bullring. First the five or six bullfighters come out, they are not the main matador who will fight the bull, but their task seems to be to get the bull angry, as if he isn´t already. They spread themselves around the ring and wait beside their protective barriers for the bull to enter the arena. Suddenly, the band kicks in with a deafening crashendo and the bull comes running into the arena. Big, black and angry and heads for the first man in pink tights her sees. They take turns with the bull for ten minutes or so to the enjoyment of the crowd until the band starts up again. (You can skip the next bit if you are a bit squeamish) Two picadores on horseback enter the arena with long pointed lances and march around the ring. The bull sees another animal and races towards it. The horses are armoured as you can see from the photos and safe from the bull, but the bull isn´t safe from the lance as the picadore pierces its back. This is to weaken the bull and prepare it for the fight. The picadores leave the arena and the matador enters with short feathered pointed sticks. I know, poor description but thats what they look like. Two at a time he stabs the bull in the spine as it charges him till he has six spikes in the bulls back. Then he gets his red cape and the fight begins.
As I mentioned earlier, showmanship to a degree is expected but not encouraged. The matadores look resplendant in their outfits and certainly are befitting of the splendour. They tease and play the bull for about ten minutes or until the crowd gets bored and then it´s time for the kill. He takes his sword, raises it in the air and to the approval of the crowd, awaits the bulls next charge and as he passes, drives the sword right to its hilt into the bull. Death comes quickly, the crowd will either applaud or boo the matador and the hooves of the butchers horses are heard entering the arena and the bull is dragged out, sliced up and sold in the butcher shops around the city the next day.
And so this continued for four more bulls with varying degrees of bravado, one matador tossed, many boo´d and the crowd leave the arena somewhat unhappy with the event. Some agreed the bulls were a bit slow, others blamed the matador. I´m not really sure how I felt about the whole thing. I´ve still to make my mind up. It was exciting, shocking and a spectacle all at once. I´m going again this coming Sunday when the new up and coming apprentices try their hand. Apparently the bulls have a better chance. I will let you know how it goes.
Patrick
The way I see it is, this is very much part of Spanish culture and has been for a very long time. It´s also very much part of the life of Sevilla and it´s not for me to judge or condone. Many friends asked me before I came to Sevilla if I would attend a bullfight. I said I absolutely would. Some were horrified of course and that´s fine. Let me indulge myself here for a moment. I have a creative mind, that´s what I do. I have to look at the whole picture and not just the slaughter of a defenseless animal.
As I mentioned earlier, showmanship to a degree is expected but not encouraged. The matadores look resplendant in their outfits and certainly are befitting of the splendour. They tease and play the bull for about ten minutes or until the crowd gets bored and then it´s time for the kill. He takes his sword, raises it in the air and to the approval of the crowd, awaits the bulls next charge and as he passes, drives the sword right to its hilt into the bull. Death comes quickly, the crowd will either applaud or boo the matador and the hooves of the butchers horses are heard entering the arena and the bull is dragged out, sliced up and sold in the butcher shops around the city the next day.
And so this continued for four more bulls with varying degrees of bravado, one matador tossed, many boo´d and the crowd leave the arena somewhat unhappy with the event. Some agreed the bulls were a bit slow, others blamed the matador. I´m not really sure how I felt about the whole thing. I´ve still to make my mind up. It was exciting, shocking and a spectacle all at once. I´m going again this coming Sunday when the new up and coming apprentices try their hand. Apparently the bulls have a better chance. I will let you know how it goes.
Patrick
Monday, May 10, 2010
Post Feria and Roses
So, when you leave things too long the news seems so old and dusty. a lot of things seemed to have happened since we last spoke. Let me begin near the beginning. Feria came and went. We did get geared up lovely and did go. It was interesting, loud, crowded and very cultural and traditional with most of the laaadies in traditional Flamenco costumes and even the boys looked very handsome. Lots of horses, lots of splendour and colour. It´s very loud and as I mentioned in the previous blog, all the casettas have their own music so everyone is competing, all in the best possible taste!
Oh I almost forgot to mention, I´m typing this at home which means of course yes, we got internet and a phone finally. It took a lot of persistance, patience, calm and candlelight vigils. But anyway, it´s done. We beat the manaña and never gave up hope.
In the midlst of all this we decided we needed a holiday, you know, away from the daily grind and sunny warmth of the city and headed up north, way up north, right to the top, half an hour from the French border to a town called Roses on the Costa Brava side. Very pretty, picturesque, built onto a series of hills all overlooking the ocean with stunning views. Roses is famous for having the ElBulli restaurant also in the hills. 5 times worlds best restaurant and chef Ferran Adria was awarded chef of the decade this year. No, we didn´t go, it has a three year waiting list and you can only book during the last week in Feb or something absurd like that. But he also has a hotel just outside Sevilla, so we might just go there...
Roses also is in the middle of the Dali triangle. What is that you ask...? Well three towns, Figueres where his museum is, Pubol where his castle is and Portlligat where his house is. All in all far more exciting than a restaurant!
So, Salvadore Dali was born in Spain in 1904 and died in 1989. A long flamboyant illustrious and prolific career of art, sculpture, jewelry, film and controversy. He was also a piece of art himself with a great sense of humour. The visit to his house and museum were fabulous to say the least. You know, you´ve seen his work in books, magazines, films etc and when you actually get to see the real thing, it´s stunning. The amount of work he turned out with his students is immense and mind blowing. Much of it very surreal and so much of it stunning and perfectly brilliant. He´s not to everyones taste, but even if you only had a passing interest in art you would find his technique close to perfection. There are some photos from the museum and house over on the right in the album thing.
The thing about Roses is that it´s close to the foot of the Pyrannees and tends to be a bit damp. It rained non stop for the four days we were there and it was also quite cold. But, we had a fantastic time thanks to the amazing warm hospitality of Dirk and Marja. Thank you...
So life in Sevilla continues. Now that we are ´connected´so to speak, we can start getting things underway faster and start the plans. We are busy looking at places and also have some projects in the pipeline which we will talk about as they develop. We are getting better and better at being city people and Sevilla is really becoming home. It will always have it´s moments that make you want to scream. We are still waiting on our furniture to arrive from the UK where they arrived four weeks ago. Having your own stuff around you will no doubt add to the feeling of belonging.
Thats it for this week. Now that we have internet here, I can get to it more often.
Talk soon.
P&M
OH, almost forgot, last night I went to my first Bullfight... more soon.
Oh I almost forgot to mention, I´m typing this at home which means of course yes, we got internet and a phone finally. It took a lot of persistance, patience, calm and candlelight vigils. But anyway, it´s done. We beat the manaña and never gave up hope.
Roses also is in the middle of the Dali triangle. What is that you ask...? Well three towns, Figueres where his museum is, Pubol where his castle is and Portlligat where his house is. All in all far more exciting than a restaurant!
The thing about Roses is that it´s close to the foot of the Pyrannees and tends to be a bit damp. It rained non stop for the four days we were there and it was also quite cold. But, we had a fantastic time thanks to the amazing warm hospitality of Dirk and Marja. Thank you...
So life in Sevilla continues. Now that we are ´connected´so to speak, we can start getting things underway faster and start the plans. We are busy looking at places and also have some projects in the pipeline which we will talk about as they develop. We are getting better and better at being city people and Sevilla is really becoming home. It will always have it´s moments that make you want to scream. We are still waiting on our furniture to arrive from the UK where they arrived four weeks ago. Having your own stuff around you will no doubt add to the feeling of belonging.
Thats it for this week. Now that we have internet here, I can get to it more often.
Talk soon.
P&M
OH, almost forgot, last night I went to my first Bullfight... more soon.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Getting Connected and Feria
Five weeks in and Spain and it’s a lot less intimidating. We’re rapidly finding our feet now amidst all the adversity and the ‘manana’ attitude of local services and government departments. Look, we’re under no illusion and never were because of course, we prepared mentally for a culture that is very proud of being very relaxed, laid back, under no pressure, hurry, call it what you like. But then of course the reality sets in when you are trying to get things done and any amount of so called preparation goes out the window. Things do get done ...eventually. You just need incredible amounts of patience, a greater grasp of the language (that we are still grasping at) and plenty of time to wait. I have a great admiration for the Spanish and their quest to live a stress free timeless existence at the expense of those whose lives revolve around clocks and their need for instant gratification and all demands met. I do mean that sincerely and they are astress free people. We’ve been waiting three weeks for a home phone and an internet connection. Daily trips to Starbucks to use their WiFi is taking its toll as are the daily phone calls to find the tech and make an appointment ...any day now, we remain hopeful.
Semana Santa came and went as did the crowds. The city is a bit quieter and all the statues, icons and religious paraphernalia are safely back in their churches and cathedrals til next year. This week Abril Feria de Sevilla begins. It’s a weeklong celebration of all things flamenco, horses, carriages and fabulous costumes. A large area of the city is set aside for Feria and attracts huge crowds. But let me say this, it’s a fairly exclusive event and this is a major criticism of tourists and visitors to Feria who don’t have the right access. Let me explain. Feria is like a huge fairground but with streets laid out in a grid pattern. All along these streets are little wooden houses called Casettas. These are rented by locals with money and they spend the week there entertaining their friends and relatives. All very lovely of course but if you don’t have a Casetta or know someone who does; you’re a bit out in the cold ...so to speak. Well anyway we don’t have to worry because our landlord is ‘connected’ and we’re invited. We’ll let you know how it goes!
The Spanish lessons continue and we work on the language daily. We’re determined to have a reasonable grasp of the language in 6 months. I’m not sure yet how realistic this is as I have a dreadful memory so will put all my faith in Margriet that she will!
We continue to meet people and make new friends. We’re still the new kids on the block and attract an amount of interest and curiosity which is nice. There are the Irish and the Americans, a few Brits, a smattering of Dutch and as many Spanish who seem to view us with amusement as to why we would want to come here. But then Andalusian’s are a bit of an enigma themselves compared to the rest of Spain. The country seems to be broken into enclaves of groups who think they are the better quality Spaniards and almost put themselves a class above the rest. This is especially true of the Andalusians. They are very fond of themselves.
We’ll go to a break now for Feria...
P&M
Semana Santa came and went as did the crowds. The city is a bit quieter and all the statues, icons and religious paraphernalia are safely back in their churches and cathedrals til next year. This week Abril Feria de Sevilla begins. It’s a weeklong celebration of all things flamenco, horses, carriages and fabulous costumes. A large area of the city is set aside for Feria and attracts huge crowds. But let me say this, it’s a fairly exclusive event and this is a major criticism of tourists and visitors to Feria who don’t have the right access. Let me explain. Feria is like a huge fairground but with streets laid out in a grid pattern. All along these streets are little wooden houses called Casettas. These are rented by locals with money and they spend the week there entertaining their friends and relatives. All very lovely of course but if you don’t have a Casetta or know someone who does; you’re a bit out in the cold ...so to speak. Well anyway we don’t have to worry because our landlord is ‘connected’ and we’re invited. We’ll let you know how it goes!
The Spanish lessons continue and we work on the language daily. We’re determined to have a reasonable grasp of the language in 6 months. I’m not sure yet how realistic this is as I have a dreadful memory so will put all my faith in Margriet that she will!
We continue to meet people and make new friends. We’re still the new kids on the block and attract an amount of interest and curiosity which is nice. There are the Irish and the Americans, a few Brits, a smattering of Dutch and as many Spanish who seem to view us with amusement as to why we would want to come here. But then Andalusian’s are a bit of an enigma themselves compared to the rest of Spain. The country seems to be broken into enclaves of groups who think they are the better quality Spaniards and almost put themselves a class above the rest. This is especially true of the Andalusians. They are very fond of themselves.
We’ll go to a break now for Feria...
P&M
Friday, April 2, 2010
Semana Santa and Moving In...
Yes, we know... this is an overdue update. Promise (and it is Holy Week) to keep more regular! So, we’re almost at the three week mark. So far so good, but it actually feels like a lot longer since we arrived. The most important thing is that we secured the apartment/townhouse. It’s right in the centre, a great idea at the time...but it’s festival week, (Semana Santa) and the city is very very busy. You have to realise something about the Spanish culture here, which you might already be aware of and we are still getting into the swing of... they stay up late, really late! This is not necessarily a bad thing of course, but we’re getting into it. What I’m getting at is that our street, narrow and away from the main drag, is a gathering place for noisy partying kiddies. It’s fine... we’ve been assured it’s only during Holy Week.
Anyway, I digress, Semana Santa is all about Jesus and the Madonna, not the Guy Richie ex, but the Virgin Mary, long processions of ‘penitents’ in ...and this is wrong of course, huge pointy ku Klux headwear, usually in black, but we’ve seen other colours as well, hundreds, followed by a massive stage made of wood upon which are life sized carved figurines of the Passion of Christ, decorated with lace and candles and carried through the streets to the Cathedral by at least forty lads underneath. Yes, they are that big. Some apparently a few tons. This procession is followed by more penitents carrying crosses and they are followed by a band of brass and drummers beating a solemn hymn. Now this is only one of about sixty such processions running all week and all through the night. Some have more than 1000 participants. The streets are lined with thousands, tourists and Spanish from everywhere, the devout of course in tears as the ‘stage platform’ passes. So you see, it’s busy here! Last night we ventured out to see the Virgin of the Macarena coming out of the church on her stage. The streets were jammed, it was 2am, we got there just in time, spectacular. Then a dash through the streets to the next district to see the Gypsy procession with the black Jesus on the platform. We waited and waited till the few hundred penitents passed and the band grew louder, it was 4am, we were struggling. I have to be honest here, we did have a few beers but... we waited, the band was close, it was deafening and there he was, resplendent with candles, the obligatory Roman soldier by him with the whip and millions of candles lighting the faces of the weeping crowd. All very spectacular and then home. There are photos here somewhere.
Anyway, I digress, Semana Santa is all about Jesus and the Madonna, not the Guy Richie ex, but the Virgin Mary, long processions of ‘penitents’ in ...and this is wrong of course, huge pointy ku Klux headwear, usually in black, but we’ve seen other colours as well, hundreds, followed by a massive stage made of wood upon which are life sized carved figurines of the Passion of Christ, decorated with lace and candles and carried through the streets to the Cathedral by at least forty lads underneath. Yes, they are that big. Some apparently a few tons. This procession is followed by more penitents carrying crosses and they are followed by a band of brass and drummers beating a solemn hymn. Now this is only one of about sixty such processions running all week and all through the night. Some have more than 1000 participants. The streets are lined with thousands, tourists and Spanish from everywhere, the devout of course in tears as the ‘stage platform’ passes. So you see, it’s busy here! Last night we ventured out to see the Virgin of the Macarena coming out of the church on her stage. The streets were jammed, it was 2am, we got there just in time, spectacular. Then a dash through the streets to the next district to see the Gypsy procession with the black Jesus on the platform. We waited and waited till the few hundred penitents passed and the band grew louder, it was 4am, we were struggling. I have to be honest here, we did have a few beers but... we waited, the band was close, it was deafening and there he was, resplendent with candles, the obligatory Roman soldier by him with the whip and millions of candles lighting the faces of the weeping crowd. All very spectacular and then home. There are photos here somewhere. 
So, back to us. We moved in, did as any intelligent souls would do in a new house and made the pilgrimage to Ikea. Bought the couch (fold out of course for extra less fussy visitors) and a bed. We are still waiting for our furniture etc to arrive, so these were necessary. Mags loves Ikea, loves the store, loves putting the stuff together, it’s so relaxing apparently. “The bed will take just over half an hour if we both work on it”. Six hours later if was almost finished! Then there was the couch. By then we had gotten used to the Ikea supplied tools and this only took three hours. Relaxing indeed. There was a mountain of cardboard and plastic, but we succeeded. It’s starting to feel like a home... sort of. Oh and we bought a TV so we can watch all the Spanish dubbed programs we used to hate. It’s good company of course when we’re not talking or need other noise to block out the noise in the street. All in all, it’s very good.
We go for long walks through the streets, the ones we can find without a procession and stop regularly for tapa. Small dishes of sometimes delicious food and sometimes food that we’re not ready for yet! These cost about 2 Euro or so and a few will fill you up. Beer, coffee (dodgy but drinkable), wine (vino tinto) are incredibly cheap and abundant. There are apparently 8000 bars in Sevilla, we’re about half way... Mags has been experimenting with the Dutch cuisine at home... well that’s what she calls it and swears it’s genuine. I think it’s a ploy to keep me out of the bars, but it’s delicious of course and so far she’s succeeding. We’re weaning ourselves in slowly to the ‘local’ stuff. But in all honesty we haven’t been to a real Spanish restaurant yet... any day now.
This is as much as you get for the moment. If you want to write... the real kind with paper and a stamp, let us know and we’ll email you the address.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Hola from Sevilla
So, here we are, finally. Sevilla. We are six days into this odessey and already so much has happened. We have registerd with the local authorities (NIE) which is a requirement for anything legal you want to do here: bank accounts, rents etc. Of course we celebrated St Patricks day a couple of days ago and have met a few locals who have turned out to be extremely nice and helpful. We are also starting our Spanish classes shortly and have met a lovely Spanish person, Jose (of course!) who will help us with Spanish conversation in exchange for improving his English. We are staying in temporary accommodation whilst we look for a permanent place to live in the beautiful and buzzing city centre. Where we are staying is called the Macarena, like the song. A bit bohemian and very lively.
Today we saw a town house in the city centre available for rent, a rare thing and we both fell in love with it and will make an offer to the owner tomorrow... fingers crossed!
Sevilla makes an instant impression on you. After 7 weeks in the cold of Ireland and Holland, the warm sunshine here gets into your bones as does the wine and tapas.
This is just the beginning for us, there is a long way to go yet, so stay tuned. We will keep this updated regularly and add photos etc. If you become a follower, it will let you know when we update.
Keep well...
Patrick and Margriet
Today we saw a town house in the city centre available for rent, a rare thing and we both fell in love with it and will make an offer to the owner tomorrow... fingers crossed!
Sevilla makes an instant impression on you. After 7 weeks in the cold of Ireland and Holland, the warm sunshine here gets into your bones as does the wine and tapas.
This is just the beginning for us, there is a long way to go yet, so stay tuned. We will keep this updated regularly and add photos etc. If you become a follower, it will let you know when we update.
Keep well...
Patrick and Margriet
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Leaving Australia
So the day has finally arrived and it's time to farewell our lives in Australia and our fabulous family and friends. Now the adventure truely begins.
The last few weeks have been very special as we have had the opportunity to say goodbye and spend time with wonderful people. Of course it's been sad, but we have no doubt we will see you all again some day in Sevilla. Thank you for all your wishes and support for our venture and we will keep you informed of all the trepidation, challenges, disappointments, wins, tears, bliss, wines, madness and joy in our new life in Sevilla.
The last few weeks have been very special as we have had the opportunity to say goodbye and spend time with wonderful people. Of course it's been sad, but we have no doubt we will see you all again some day in Sevilla. Thank you for all your wishes and support for our venture and we will keep you informed of all the trepidation, challenges, disappointments, wins, tears, bliss, wines, madness and joy in our new life in Sevilla.
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