"I just call them pointy head guys" in Sevilla

Beautiful Sevilla!

The final destination of my trip would certainly not prove to be the least of my tour de force. Admittedly, I came into my trip to Sevilla (spelled Seville stateside, for some reason I do not know) almost completely unprepared. My only reservation was at my hostel, which was changeable with little lost. No guidebook. No prior research. Nothing specific to see. So, my reason for going: the famous festivities for Samana Santa, the Holy Week of Easter.
The celebrations are known world round. I would later learn, for a permanent population of 700,000, more than a million tourists visit Sevilla over the course of the Holy Week. The celebrations are renowned for the daily processions through the streets. More on that later.
It was enough to convince me to add one final leg to my already tiring journey.

Friday was a true test of transportation. My flight left Vienna at 7:00 am on Iberia airlines and I was lucky the first airport bus from the train station near my hostel left at 5:00, giving me enough time. The Vienna airport wins the award for most confusing airport layout, with many turns and level changes that separate you by section before getting to security. On the upside, the security lines are short and you get almost personal service as security helps sort your items. I would place them above the Polish security because the Pols were dressed in ugly green uniforms.
I was lucky to purchase my breakfast at the airport and not on the plane, where all food and beverages were for sale. There was one food left to try in Vienna: topfenstrudel. With some weird apple soda I bought for the heck of it, twas a sufficient meal for the flight.
Best part of the flight: I was the only one in my three person aisle. Stretching out for a comfortable position, I actually slept for most of the flight.

Arriving in Madrid was like arriving in a ghost town. The normally prompt Cercanias trains (which I caught at the airport because my arrival gate was close enough) were all running terribly slow. Also, all trains were 'corto' (short); basically running double the time and half the capacity. The Madrid streets on the cloudy day were the emptiest I had seen. It took me a minute to figure out why etchings were so quiet. Maybe it should have taken me less time to figure things out, but I had been traveling a lot and this was the most unfamiliar Madrid had ever looked. Anyway, it was Good Friday, one of the holiest days of the Easter calendar. In the catholic dominant country of Spain, this was a national day off.

I returned to my dark apartment, obviously the first person back in a long time. The French couple was in Portugal, the Mexican girl was back home in Mexico, the Canadian was touring southern Spain, and I was doing my thing. As I looked up train schedules, only two hours were spent back at home.

A short commuter train ride later, I had my ticket to Sevilla leaving from the Puerta de Atocha train station. Walking from the terminal to my train, I was mesmerized by the lines of elegant high speed trains awaiting departure. For my ride, I was going in style with by Ave train. The fastest trains in Spain, they cut an eight hour bus ride down to two hours by traveling more than 250 km/hr.
Assuming a seat at the window in my aisle, I waited to see if the train was full enough to prompt my move. When someone came to take my seat, I put on my best 'confused American' impersonation possible to keep the seat. Well, it didn't work so I moved to the aisle.
So far, the Ave train is the nicest I've taken so far (spanning trains in the USA, Switzerland, France, Poland, and Austria). Though the Austrian RailJet trains were newer, the Ave experience was better.

The two and a half hour journey through the diverse Spanish countryside was accompanied by a movie. For everyone's enjoyment, headphones were distributed for the movie in little plastic canisters (instant souvenir). Though the movie has been reviewed as one of the worst ever made, the ride was smooth and my connection to my multimedia devices was not interrupted with the presence of wall outlets in each seat.

Two hours later, I was walking the streets of Sevilla.

Finding my hostel, my next objective was to find the street processions. I made my way to the river, following the crowds. As the grey clouds never really passed, a slight drizzle started. My belief was that the processions had been cancelled, just as the hostel attendant had predicted. Though initially unsure, my premonition was confined by checking the Samana Santa twitter feed.

None the less, I was had not given up on my walking tour of the city. Easier said than done. The streets of Sevilla are some of the hardest to navigate. As I would learn, many of the short and narrow streets actually have multiple names and do not appear on maps. After some walking, I ended up at the cathedral of Sevilla. My goal then was finding my way back to the hostel, only a few hundred meters as the crow flies. Embarking down a street, I tried to always keep the cathedral behind me, looking at the prominent tower, the tallest in the city. Making a few turns, I quickly lost sight of the cathedral as I entered the historic Santa Cruz neighborhood. With a multitude of small streets, I believed my track was accurate. Checking my map, I believed the main street was the next turn. To my surprise, I had returned to the cathedral; a full circle. This goes as a first, going thought a complete circle. I reserved myself to taking the main streets that tripled the shortest journey possible. Still, probably less distance than I covered wandering lost.
Tapas bar hopping provided my dinner, especially after finding a bar with Alhambra beer (my favorite in Spain) on tap. Brief note on beer; the main beer here is Cruzcampo (literal translation 'cross field'). Overall, Cruzcampo is better than Mahou, the main Madrid beer. Alhambra is my favorite; brewed in Granada, it is easier to find here in the south of Spain than north.
I happened to doze off in the hostel after dinner, waking up around midnight. So much for doing anything that evening. The long day of constant travel must have finally gotten to me. Still, this set me up for an early day of sightseeing the next day.

So, I really have not talked about the city so far. And for good reason, because Saturday was the best day to walk. With a predicted high of 70 F with sunny skies, this was the first I could walk around a city without a jacket!

My sunrise tour began at the Gardens de Murillo. The sandy pathway still wet from the the rains last night, the ambiance of the park made up for everything. The smell of eucalyptus trees wafted through the air. Most plants were in full bloom, bringing out purple and yellow colors among the green bushes. Orange trees were flowering. The walk was complemented by fountains and colorfully tiled walls.
My destination was the Plaza de Espana. Approaching the structure from the side, I was instantly amazed by its presence. By far, the most beautiful building I have seen this journey. With the early sunlight, the south tower was properly illuminated with the remaining parts caught in the glare. It would take much too long describing the beauty of this building, so I'll just include a lot of pictures.

Interesting facts, the building was built was built for the Americas exposition in the early 1900s as Spain's representative building. At the foot of the building are 49 "benches" for the major cities of Spain. Though the building is not as old, they certainly out did themselves making the Plaza. I concluded this section if my walk by admiring the surrounding park. Beautiful, of course, many runners were out enjoying the ideal climate.

"Benches" of Spanish cities.

Surrounding park.

Sufficiently amazed by the morning walk, I made it back to the hostel for the free walking tour. Having previous success with free walking tours (ahem... free vodka...), I gave it a try. Meeting only one other person at the hostel, Adam from Australia  we were lead by a tour guide to the cathedral to find a large group. Meeting our Polish (yep) guide for Sevilla, our two hour tour tour included viewing the cathedral exterior, several of the smaller churches, the river, more parks, and then finishing at the Plaza de Espana. It was worth returning to the plaza to get a better view with the sun. Met some nice people along the way, including two other Americans and many Australians.

Most of us agreed to have lunch at the tour's conclusion. The tour guide (very nice and informative) recommended a place near the city center. As we walked, it was hard to notice the viewing platforms for processions. Though taking various routs, the processions all pass through the main avenue and then the cathedral. In anticipation, viewing stands are erected and seat reservations made months in advance. Not knowing the costs involved, the stands are the viewing areas for the well off of Spain.

Viewing stands.

The restaurant recommended by our guide turned out to be 'the company' establishment. Though the food was good, the prices were a tad high. Funny thing, I was one of the most proficient Spanish speakers in the group. After talking, the remaining group of me, Adam and a few other Aussies, a Swede, a Dutch girl, Frenchman, and Thai guy, agreed to seek out some of the processions after lunch.
As with previous excursions, we were attracted to large groups of people lining the streets. Some tv cameras also awaited in anticipation of something. Finding an open section of street, we did not need wait long for the procession to arrive. At the front were priests carrying crosses and waving incense. Behind was the main attraction, long columns of hooded persons. Referred to as brotherhoods, these people march through the streets. Hundreds of pointy head covered individuals carrying a variety of items including crosses, ornamented poles, and banners. When you could hear the music, the main attraction had arrived. Massive altars would process down the street, shaking in step to the many human carriers underneath. The altar carriers are distinct by their turban headgear, and also seen drinking outside the bars after their march. The particular altar for this march was one of Jesus carrying his cross, a common theme for most. Solemn music from a marching band immediately behind added to the depth of the moment.

Not waning to get caught, we quickly cut through and joined the afternoon tour.
The tour was nice, once again, and also for free. A few hours later, we ended up at the same bar from the first tour. This at least placed us close to the main avenue for the processions.

Still keeping a small group of us together, we once again sought out more processions. We mixed up our vantage positions around the main avenue. Crossways were strictly policed, but we managed to get a perfect view stuck in a crowd just as an altar passed. We (four Aussies, a Dutch girl, French guy, Thai guy, Swedish guy) kept on moving, eventually finding a few spots just behind the low grandstands. This was the next hour or so for us until we became hungry. A quick stop back at our hostel then prompted a dinner excursion.

We sought out a reasonably priced tapas bar close to our evening destination: a flamenco show. Flamenco, of course, is the traditional Spanish dance with origins in the Andalusia region of Spain. We enjoyed a relaxing dinner eating outside and talking. A tv facing the patio featured live footage of the evening processions. We were lucky to split the 140+ € bill among us. More interestingly, with my Spanish skill, I had to negotiate with the bartender over drinks we did not order.
Ignoring some of the more tourist-centric shows, we opted to find something more authentic. Free flamenco shows in most bars are very common. It also holds true to the tradition of the art. While the dance is distinctive, the flamenco began with people playing guitar and singing about life events. It fits perfectly into a bar setting: small and personal. Getting some drinks (my goodness a 7€ tap beer if I knew it would that cost that much I would have told my Australian friend not to get any), we enjoyed two 15-minute shows on the hour.

As usual, one guy was playing the guitar the whole time. Another guy was the singer. His clapping was the loudest, syncing to the rythem of the guitar. A woman (of course in a flamenco dress) was seated with the two on separate chairs right next to each other on the stage. The singer, in a powerful voice, belted his song to fill the bar. Every patron was transfixed on the stage. After the song (trust me, I could not understand him...) the woman began dancing, typified by tapping her feet very rapidly. The movements were both rigid and fluid: pauses of rigid foot tapping with twirls and body movements. A true Andalusia experience.

Easter Sunday. Yes, I made a promise to my parents to attend Easter mass, wherever I happened to be. My goal was to attend mass at the Sevilla cathedral, the definitive religious place in the city. I woke up with time to spare, having been told that masses were at noon. Wanting to make my to the cathedral early anyway, I left the hostel after checking out. I mistakenly trusted my navigation skills to get to the church through the labyrinth of city streets instead of taking the long way around the city.
Take a short cut I said. It would be quicker I said.
Naturally, I got lost again. To my luck, I made it to the Plaza Mayor with its unique mushroom shaped canopy. I also saw one of the tour members from the day before and said hi. Finally catching a glimpse of the cathedral tower, I started walking toward just as the bells signaled the start of mass. So much for that noon start.

Plaza Mayor

Many tourists were present inside, viewing the large cathedral for free. Many seats were taken, but I found a seat on the 'wings' before all were taken. I lucked out in this respect, because the presider was also the archbishop of Andalusia  The best seats were occupied by well dressed locals and I sat with the tourists, many of them probably just there to experience something different.
The ambiance of the old cathedral was unique. Even as bats strafed the altar on occasion, the choir music reverberated through the whole building. I grew to appreciate the size of the cathedral, even from my seat with a restricted view.
I mean, if you had to say where you attended Easter mass, the cathedral of Sevilla with the bishop sounds good to me.

Cathedral of Sevilla

Tower of Sevilla

Main entrance

I got some tapas for an early lunch and walked around more parts of the city. The Torre de Oro (tower of gold) was on my list of things to see. Too bad the admission price to enter was out of my pocket change range.

Torre de Oro

Thinking I could catch an off day to visit the city's more famous attractions with less crowds, the Cathedral (again, yes, because sections were closed off for mass) and the Alcazar, I was a little mistaken.
After a half hour wait to enter the Alcazar, I was blown away by the interior. Absolutely worth seeing. I went a little picture happy, with seemingly never ending gardens and mazes of ornate rooms. You could spend hours viewing the same thing from different perspectives to appreciate the details.

The tile patterns of the Alcazar are some of the most famous in Spain

I lucked out on visiting the cathedral again, finding a short line during the traditional late Spanish lunch time. More well lit for the tourists, I followed the abbreviated self guided tour of the cathedral highlights. First, the tomb of Christopher Columbus. Not a modest fellow, the tomb is more than 8 feet tall and carried by statue pallbearers. From my pictorial excitement at the Alcazar, my camera battery ran out at this time. Left with my potato camera of a phone, I proceeded throughout the cathedral. Beyond the amazing artwork and priceless relics in the treasury, the highlight was climbing the cathedral tower. Taking the 35 ramps to the top, the views of the white buildings was something to behold.

Christopher Columbus was not a modest guy....

Enjoying the long way back to the hostel and a late lunch (tapas of grilled veggies with goat cheese and sausage with chimichurri sauce), I made my back to the train station. Just my luck, it started raining half way there. Wanting to get the next train to Madrid, the cheapest tickets for all trains that day were booked. I would have to pay more to leave on the next train in three hours. My luck for not booking a return ticket first in Madrid. With all buses having departed or not leaving for another several hours, the opportunity cost of staying in Sevilla any longer was worth the ticket price.
Taking the Ave back, I got back to Madrid just before midnight. Wanting to catch the next metro to Sol, I used my month pass to have it rejected. Turns out it was just past midnight... On April 1. So I was a minute too late. Buying my ticket, I appreciated sleeping in my own bed that evening.

Overall, Sevilla is the most beautiful city I have visited thus far. It has a perfect mix of Spanish and Moorish architecture  allowing one to see these unique stiles which have become representative of Spain. Sevilla is a completely representative city of Spain: cathedrals, famous bull fights, Flamenco dance, white walled houses, two football clubs with a noted rivalry  and a climate suitable for expansive gardens that only add to the beauty. By far the most romantic city in Spain, it would be a perfect place to take someone special for a vacation.