Cordoba and Jaen : Wednesday 20th April

So after a night of mixing with a few of the other backpackers playing cards and chatting we woke up at 9am and met with one of the Americans, as organised, ready to go off to the sites that Cordoba has to offer as it was free entry on Wednesday mornings - touch!

First stop, the Mosque-Cathedral (that I think I mentioned in a previous entry?!). The doors were left open for the tourists but unfortunately there was no guide so there was no explanation about the building, how it got transformed into a cathedral, nor was it explained that Muslims can no longer worship there (I don't actually know how we found that out?!). I was fairly disappointed and thought they might have had at least a few free leaflets for grabs like in some of the smaller places of worship we'd been (notably the synagogue and a small little church we almost tripped up on it was so tiny!).

Here are a few photos of the mosque-come-cathedral thing that I know nothing about:

The exterior

I assume this is where my colleague was on about when she said that the place where the Muslims are called to prayer has been replaced by the bell-tower. That sentence is far too long and it probably doesn't make any sense but I'm struggling to get all this info in before my coming blog posts - I've got a lot on! (Thanks Annalisa!)

There are more photos on Facebook if you're interested.

We then beelined for the Alcazar before it shut. A similar old building from the Muslim times to that of Malaga and Granada. It didn't have much to offer other than pretty gardens (that we'd seen the day before in the patios) and nice sights over Cordoba but that was good enough for us. A few snaps to keep you reading:

Once we'd finished wandering around the Arabic ruins we were hungry and ready for a drive to Jaen to grab some lunch. We invited the American along with us and he accepted - SCORE, I had a new navigator!

He directed me through the B roads instead of the motorway and the moment the car filled with the smell of olives we were instantly grateful. Jaen is known for it's production of olive oil, it actually produces 10% of the world's olive oil (he had a Lonely Planet guide!). The fields surrounding the highway were just rammed full with olive trees/plants/crops?! The smell was really strong - it was a real experience - as lame as you may think it sounds!

We got to Jaen, wandered around a bit until it chucked it down with rain and ducked into any old tapas bar that seemed popular. We had a tuna salad with fresh tomatoes all drizzled in what was probably (or probably not!) home made olive oil, a rich serving of black pudding, stuffed roasted peppers and Iberian ham. We discussed what our next moves were and John's guide recommended the Castillo de Santa Catalina. All systems go.

We drove around Jaen and then started to climb the mountain in a little, struggling Fiat! The higher we went the better the views and the humongous cathedral that dominated the town was even more visible from a higher altitude. When we got to the top we found a Parador (kind of like Marriot hotels in Spain that normally have cracking views across the town). We wandered around the castle's walls (we ain't paying €3 to look around some bricks inside!) and were pretty dumbfounded by the views. Take a look.

Bull ring!

Once we'd had an eyeful of the view we snuck into the Parador for a posh coffee. It's one of ten castle-hotels in Europe, don't you know!

We drove back to Cordoba, just in time for hostel-organised paella and sangria for €6. We went up onto the terrace to meet a whole bunch of Frenchies and spoke in a funny language between Spanish, English and French whilst patiently waiting for the food to come.

We wolfed down our measley portions of both paella and sangria and rummaged through the streets looking for a bar that was showing Madrid Vs Barcelona with seats. We found somewhere in a nice little square that we hadn't even ventured into. We sat there and spent our last night in Cordoba swigging beer and shouting at the TV before we went back to the hostel.

We had made two different reservations for our second night in the hostel as it was all very complicated and I moved to a different room full of more Frenchies. Annalisa got stuck with a load of Japanese girls that wanted to do face masks slumber party style at 1am. Unlucky chucky!

Next stop: Cadiz!

Again, more photos on Facebook.

Cordoba : Tuesday 19th April written by Annalisa

On Tuesday morning, we woke up extra early, checked out from our lovely Sevilla hostel and made our way to Sevilla airport to pick up our rental car for rest of the trip!! We were quite excited by the rental car prospect as it now allowed us to go on the move as and when we wanted.  At the airport, Stacey called the car rental man, who then shortly met us outside and drove us to the car rental office just 3 mins away. Stacey sorted out the paper work (as she would be the driver), paid and we soon set off to Cordoba in our blue Fiat Panda!!

We turned the music up and with the aid of the GPS on Stacey’s phone we hit the motorway... That was the easy part.... Trying to find the hostel in Cordoba however, and suitable parking, was the nightmare. We had made good time from Sevilla, but once we got to Cordoba, we drove around for more than hour trying to find a parking space. Frustration quickly mounted as I tried my best to guide Stacey around the city with dodgy (probably accurate actually...) directions from the GPS. In fact I grew to hate the GPS and his “surfer dude” voice we had chosen for him!! He would tell us to turn left and a road would be blocked off or one way or something and that would cause us to drive round and round for another half an hour. Cordoba’s mega narrow streets didn’t help the matter. Lost and terrified about scratching the car we finally came across the hostel and another 45 mins later we found a parking space.

Spirits were low and our tummy’s were rumbling with hunger, so we checked into our new mega funky hostel and headed to the nearest restaurant. After filling up on super yummy tapas – a mixture of ratatouille, roasted peppers and meatballs - we decided to explore Cordoba city. Unfortunately the weather was a bit dull, but that didn’t stop us from enjoying what Cordoba had to offer. Its tiny, narrow streets and small plazas gave Cordoba more of a village feel. The architecture was still very much southern Spain styley – white and yellow houses, arched windows and pretty tiled balconies. As we walked we ran into a couple more Klu Klux Klanners preparing for the afternoon processions.

Something that Stacey had really wanted to see were the Cordoba flower patios. The patios belonged to El Palacio de Viana, and were a must-see due to its beautiful gardens and courtyards. We snapped away like mad at the pretty flowers and plants (see below) and then we were given a tour of the palace. 

The rooms were really impressive, however we both found the tour way too long and once you’d seen one room; you’d pretty much seen them all! Stacey and I tried to think of ways to escape and leave... But it was too rude! Hehe. Almost dead from extreme boredom, we finished the hour long tour and headed to a cafe below our hostel and had coffee and cake. As we munched on our chocolate torte, we caught sight of what was showing on TV – a 90’s spy film with some un-nameable actors. We soon got hooked on the film and ordered another coffee... However, much to our disgust, the bar man, knowing full well we were watching said film, started flicking though the channels, leaving us totally narked off, especially as he left some random channel on and proceeded to have a conversation with some other guy. Angry and annoyed (I was enjoying that film!), we left and headed to our hostel bedroom .

Once in our hostel bedroom we heard a familiar drum beat and we realised that the Semana Santa processions were starting in Cordoba. We had a balcony in our hostel bedroom, so we watched the processions go past in style!

 One thing that was we hadn’t seen in the Sevilla Processions were the “Saetas”, which consist of a woman singing a kind of ode to the virgin from a balcony as the float goes by. It was quite weird; everyone in the street stops and listens to her in silence, and her voice was quite flamencoey, it was like a constant whine.. You couldn’t make out the words really!

Anyway, once that was over, we spent the evening on our hostel terrace with a couple of beers chatting away to other fellow hostellers. We met a lovely American girl - also a teaching assistant like us, a Hungarian guy who had gone travelling on the cheap and in exchange for a free bed on the terrace had to do odd jobs for the hostel, Luis the Spanish “anti Melilla” hostel receptionist and then other hostellers came and went as the night went on. Stacey and I decided we quite liked this hostel “community” that we seemed to integrate into at each hostel. By 1am, there was a whole mixture of nationalities.. Tired and a tad frustrated at my rusty French Stace and I decided to hit the haystack and rest for tomorrows new adventures. 

More photos on Facebook.

Seville : Monday 19th April

Monday was our last full day in Seville. We went for a wander around the river again, despite the weather being pretty muggy. We were looking for a dress for myself as I'm going back to London in a few weeks to see Chris which coincides with his friend's wedding. I needed a frock and whilst browsing the shop we found numerous vast ranges of flamenco dresses in department stores. Too scared to try them on for fear of breaking them at €500 a pop we left and carried on searching!

As it got colder and the weather started threatening to rain we went back to the hostel, swapped our skirts for jeans and went back out. We crossed a few processions but we'd seen that all before and headed for the centre to discover other Sevillan sites. We found the cathedral which was a pretty impressive building.

We wandered down several narrow streets in a different neighbourhood (the name for which I can't remember!). We stopped and had some tapas, resenting the fact that we've 'grown-up' in Melilla where tapas comes free with any drink!

Fried squid and fried goats cheese on a jam thing - they always seem to serve cheese with jam! - with Sangria!

We wandered more around town, Annalisa bought herself some stylish sunglasses and I managed to find a few suitable dresses. We stopped for coffee and churros (I explained them before, right?).

We had reserved tickets for another flamenco show in the evening, hopefully this time without tourists. We got there slightly early and stopped in another little bar near the venue for a glass of wine. It was crazily decorated with skeletons and lots of melted wax. That was odd...!

We went next door and plonked ourselves down in some seats near the front. The receptionist came on stage and explained we were not allowed to take photos nor videos until we were told otherwise.

Two men took to the stage and sat on wooden seats, very similar to the other show however this time they weren't decorated. One began to play the guitar and the other began to clap, gradually feeling enough emotion to sing along. His voice sounded quite Arabic and I couldn't quite make out what he was saying. It was nothing heartfelt - it sounded like he was singing about talking to his mother and her calling him back into the house, etc.! Later a big busted woman came out in a dark green velvet top and a long skirt which can only be described as something a great-grandmother would wear. I couldn't imagine her dancing the flamenco, that's for sure! Disappointing.... Until she started moving and clapping with the music. It was great, all over again like the first half of the flamenco we'd seen a few nights before.

In the middle of the show the flamenco dancer and the singer left the stage and the guitarist took centre-stage. He must have been playing for about a good 20 minutes. The sound of the Spanish guitar really is beautiful and actually brought a tear to me eye. I wished James could have been there to see it but since seeing my other Flamenco video perhaps I shouldn't have. James - it is not just a bunch of clapping and dancing with a drunken man screaming *shakes head*!

After really moving the audience the other two came back on stage, this time the woman dressed in a yellow and brown traditional flamenco dress. She danced her socks off and we noticed that she used a lot more of her lower body, whereas the other woman used her arms and shoulders a lot more. I guess with a more intimate audience she knew they would be able to see clearly. Here are a few shots and a video:

Later the woman elegantly sat down on the chair and clapped along and we could tell the end was unfortunately nearing.

We stumbled out onto the busy streets and luckily found a seat in a fairly busy pizzeria. We munched down a scrumptious pizza ready for a comfortable, slow walk home back to the hostel. BUT we got stuck! This is basically what happened:

Every way we turned there were processions and they had this eerie feel about them in the dark! The colours were all different and everything seemed a lot more intimidating.

Seeing Jesus coming towards you on the cross was particularly spooky!

The band looked pretty cool this time too:

We noticed that each procession is slightly different. The floats represent different parts of the Easter story and sometimes the band come first, then the float, following my the KKK or sometimes the KKK come first followed by the band and then the float. Either way the band played with precision every time and in Seville, as we were there for the first few days of Easter when Jesus so-say approached his death, the music was particularly sad. 

Here's a video - sorry for the turning of the camera - we're not quite pros! Also, sorry for the sound distortion at the end, it really was that deafening! You can hear how the lead trumpeter (trumpetist?) was flailing. Bear in mind that these guys had been trapsing the streets all day, I imagine his lips were pretty darn sore.

We eventually safely got home and went to beddy byes only to get woken up by our new room-mates from Chicago shouting at 4.30am. Thanks. Punks.

Seville : Sunday 17th April (Palm Sunday) written by Annalisa

On Sunday,  Stacey and I woke up lazily and I enjoyed mooching around in the hostel kitchen munching on toast and drinking bad coffee whilst Stacey started to write her first blog entry. After getting ready and saying goodbye to our lovely new German mate, we made for the city centre in search of grub! As we walked along, we noticed that the centre was bustling and crowded with people, all dressed like they were going to a wedding. Quickly dodging the millions of people on the street, we soon found a little restaurant on a corner, sat down and ordered tapas. The restaurant was quite posh with tiny servings; we ordered a goat’s cheese salad, some salami and a bottle of sparkling rose. The food was gobbled up within seconds and left Stacey and I gulping down the wine which went straight to our heads, leaving us quite tipsy!

We soon realised that as it was Palm Sunday, and the first day of Semana Santa (Spanish Easter celebrations), which meant the first day of processions. I’m attaching a Wikipedia link here which explains with great detail the ins and outs of the processions and their meaning, but it’s pretty much a reconstruction of the story leading up to Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection. Though I had seen the processions before in Granada two years ago, nothing prepared me for the Sevilla ones. The magnitude, quality and organisation of these processions really impressed us. After finishing our lunch, we headed round the corner where the first procession was about to start. A mixture of 34 degree heat, wine, and musicians playing their little socks off left us speechless and completely overwhelmed.  Though each procession differs slightly the general set up is as following:

•  A parade of people dressed up in what can only be described as Klu Klux Klan outfits, carrying long candles and burning incense on the streets. (see photo below!) They often hand out sweets or tiny business like cards with the picture of the float which follows them. If you receive a sweet or a card, I think it’s meant to be quite special, like receiving a blessing from a priest or something.  In fact I remember seeing one of them giving a sweet to a guy, who then handed it to his girlfriend who rewarded him with a kiss as if he’d just given her an amazing present or something!

• The float then follows. This is the most impressive part (I think) of the procession. The float is mahoosive (word taken from Stacey’s word bank). They seem to be made of wood and metal and the float contains part of the story of the crucifixion. So for example, the first float we saw (see photos below) showed a statue of Jesus carrying the cross on his shoulders. 

The floats are really richly decorated with ornate fabric, candles and flowers. What is shocking however, is the size of the float. It’s so big that it's carried by about 50 + people who hide underneath it.  These people are not able to see anything, as the bottom of the float is covered with material (like a long table cloth) hiding them out of the way. They definitely have the worst job in the entire procession!! All you can see is their feet. A man goes in front and behind them shouting numbers and they march to a set beat. When they stop, a man behind quickly feeds them water (as they are probably dying from dehydration and exhaustion!) and then they soon start again.  The video will show this!!

• A band follows this. The bands were absolutely amazing. As Stacey and I were right at the front we saw and heard pretty much everything. The brass instruments and the drums piercing noises went right through your body. It was breathtaking and Stacey and I felt quite emotional actually.

The processions carry on for hours, usually form 4pm to 2am.  After about 2 hours we got quite dehydrated and headed back to Triana, the area where out hostel was, grabbed a drink and some tapas and chilled for a bit. In the evening we got dolled up and headed to Sevilla’s Barceló hotel where we met up with Matt, one of Stacey’s old work mates and had a drink in the hotel bar.

  

Seville : Saturday 16th April

All of the days have blurred into one so I'm struggling to remember everything correctly...

On the Saturday morning we went for a walk along the river in the Triana area and headed into the centre. Here are lots of pictures of the Spanish streets with an incredibly attractive young lady sat in front of the Guadalquivir river!

Wow, she is incredibly attractive!

We decided to head down towards the infamous Seville bull ring and got some how caught up in a parade or demonstration about something or other...!

This is the bull ring from the outside.

We got a guided tour around the bull ring and learnt a lot. We were led into the main arena, which unusually is oval due to construction mistakes (I think, if I remember correctly).

There's that incredibly attractive girl again!

This is where the members of the Royal Family sit. If there are no royals present then this booth stays empty.

Spectators can choose whether they would like to sit in the sun or the shade and tickets cost from €25 to €150.

There are four entrances into the arena. One for the bull, one for the bullfighter, one for the bullfighter to be taken away and given medical attention if need be, and another for the bull to be dragged off once killed by three mules.

We entered the museum that was covered in hefty, scarily hung bull heads. All of the heads are of the bulls that had put up an admirable fight in the ring (wouldn't you, if you were being teased to your death?!). The heads were pretty daunting, I'm sure once dead the bull could still kill if that head fell on you! Some of them had their ears cut off, apparently the bullfighters cut them off and kept them as a trophy. Nice.

The guide told us that bull fighting originally started as military training. There was a statue of an eagle balancing on a stone with a ring in it's mouth and the soldiers would have to thrust their lance (oi, oi!) through the right whilst on horseback and detach the ring from the bird. Another exercise was similar but there was a statue of a man holding a wooden head, suspended by a metal chain. The soldiers had to disconnect the wooden head from the statue, again using the lance on horseback. Here are a few pictures of the outfits they used to wear, if anyone cares to see!

I can't quite remember what happened but somehow they replaced the statues with bulls and then it became more of a show than military training. Also the cavalry were used to tire the bull before a bullfighter would take on the bull on foot. The 'game' consists of thrusting arrows into the bull and then killing the bull in the most painless manner possible, reducing the bull's suffering, as she said! I'm not sure if I've remembered that all correctly but it was something along those lines! Whoops! I've tried to look it up on Wikipedia but it's not quite what the woman told us. She did tell us, however, that since 1992 there have been two deaths in the ring across Spain (bullfighter deaths, the bulls are always killed) and both unfortunately happened in Seville. She didn't mention the number of injuries that have actually led to death out of the ring, which I can imagine is crazily high. She showed us around the bullring's hospital (every bullring legally should have one) and also the chapel, where the bullfighter can pray before entering the ring.

We took a walk around the the outside of the ring (I've been told I've been putting too many photos of things and landscapes and not enough of me so here y'are!).

We wandered along the river in the boiling sun and made our way to the Plaza de Espana, normally the biggest and most beautiful park of the city. It didn't disappoint! Check out the photos!

Yes... It was hot!

Dark, but another one of me for y'all!

There are tiles all around the Plaza dedicated to the main towns in Spain and Annalisa and I took photos of the towns we were going to visit or that we had already visited. Not interesting but I have photos so they're going up! We were disappointed to see that they didn't have Melilla!

We sat and chilled in the sun all afternoon reading in the Plaza de Espana before heading back to the hostel. We timed things badly and everything seemed to be shut, or not serving food. We settled on a MacDonalds (ssssh!) and went back to the hostel to play cards with a German guy in the flat. He said he had a bottle of red wine and cracked open a posh box that was a present for his brother! It turned out the wine was sweet dessert wine that is stronger than normal wine - therefore fairly difficult to digest in normal quantity like a glass of Rioja. Anyway, we played a few games of cards, got scared by a humongous cockroach that decided to come out to play and hit the hay quite late.

Christian with his brother's gift from Spain - yum!

Our friend, the cockroach.

I'm putting full albums of all the photos we took each day on Facebook if you're interested in flicking through those. There are just a few from each day on the blog.

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