Spain: Seville

As a belated birthday present I took Lottie to Seville in October 2014. I chose it because I banked on getting a bit of southern European sun so late in the year, plus had heard great things about its narrow winding streets full of tapas bars.

Apart from the odd rain shower, we got the weather and we got the tapas. It was a great weekend.

Our hotel was on a beautiful Andalucian square lined with orange trees. We were yards away from the cathedral, dozens of bars and all the other sites and sounds that make Seville such an atmospheric city.

On our first day we made an impulse decision to take a boat trip down the river (after I cheekily haggled the guy down on the tickets) and then followed it up with a decent lunch on the other side of the river from the main city streets.

That night we had a bite to eat at the hotel restaurant because it was pissing it down outside.

When the rain had subsided, and the paella had been demolished...

...we took a mini pub crawl around the nearby streets and ended up in what - to me - epitomises Seville. A slightly ramshackle tapas bar staffed by white-shirted old men with faded photos on the wall and legs of Iberico ham covering the ceiling.

 Seville is a perfect weekend getaway because it's small enough to wander across in a day, with each neighbourhood slightly different from the last.

We did that walk on our second day, heading out with little plan in mind but soon enjoying some classic Spanish architecture and the sights and smells of a working, busy city.

We visited the 'pararsols', mushroom-style wooden structures overhanging a square in the centre of the city. Lottie spotted that we could pay to go up to the roof, so we did just that and got some good pics of the city below us.

Mid-afternoon we stumbled across a tapas bar called Eslava that I'd read about in another blog. We got a table outside and were soon tucking in to braised pig cheeks, shoulder of beef, an award-winning egg dish and a gluttonous chocolate dessert.

It was fantastic - probably my favourite meal of the year - because of the food, the atmosphere and the impeccable service. It was also dirt cheap. We paid about 30 euros between us and walked away stuffed with food and merry on Cruzcampo cerveza.

The final stop of the afternoon was at Seville's famous bullfighting arena. The whitewashed walls and red doors were an eye-catching sight and we negotiated our way past a pleading tout to buy some 15 euro tickets from the main box office.

We headed back to the main bar strip where we saw hundreds of middle-class Spaniards (Ralph Lauren shirts, Raybans and chinos) sipping rioja as they waited for the bullfight to begin.

Lottie and I had a few drinks and were in good spirits, not giving too much thought to what we were about to watch.

Once inside, it was not a pleasant experience. I wanted to witness it because when I travel I try to stay close to the local culture and traditions, even if it isn't always something I can condone.

We watched two bulls killed in the early evening sun and that was enough. There were several more posturing matadors to come and several more poor bulls to be teased and slowly killed, but two was more than enough for us.

The most pathetic part of the spectacle was the way the matadors acted as though they were the brave ones - and were feted by the crowd for how close they got to their prey.

But when the bull got even close to catching one of them, he sprinted back behind a gate. Chicken shit, basically.

On our final day we walked to the Plaza Espana, an incredible example of Spanish architecture. A huge semi-circular building with mosaic tiles that overlooked a moat filled with rowing boats.

We walked through the park nearby, then headed back into town for some final tapas before catching the late Ryanair flight back to Stansted.

Seville was great. I'd go back next week if I could.

Brazil: Rio

In February 2014 I received an unexpected invite at work: a paid-for trip to Rio.

Now before your green-eyed monster kicks in, I have to caveat this with a bit more detail about the trip.

Yes, we flew direct with British Airways (my first long-haul journey with BA, and very nice it was too).

Yes, our four-star hotel was situated in the plush Leblon area and only a stone's throw from Ipanema beach.

Yes, my work paid for everything during the four night trip.

And yes, because of this I am officially a Very Lucky Man.

However, I was there to work. The trip was a chance for some of BT's employees to visit sport-related projects that have been partly funded by BT Sport's charitable initiative, The Supporters Club, and it was my job to report on it and to evangelise the charity within BT's digital media team.

I wrote a couple of articles for the BT Sport website about the project visits and the Street Child World Cup, which we visited as well, so won't repeat all that info here.

The group I went with were great fun - a collection of disparate employees at the behemoth that is BT.

Some were call centre workers (who had won the chance to go to Rio after generating more donations than their colleagues), others from BT's corporate social responsibility team, plus there were a couple of Comic Relief staff to do the organising and provide copious amounts of Haribo.

On our first full day we took a short ride along Copacabana beach to Botafogo. We then boarded the cable car (made famous in the 007 film Moonraker) to the top of Sugarloaf mountain.

Not long after reaching the top the cloud cover came in and visibility was nil. Good job we had the foresight to get some snaps as soon as we reached the summit:

In the afternoon we visited the first project of the trip, this one funded by Comic Relief (rather than The Supporters Club).

The Crescer e Vivir project housed an arrangement of portakabins next to a circus big top. The kids that arrive at the project - from shelters, from the street - are taught educational and circus skills to improve their lives.

We were lucky to arrive just before of a proper show that the kids were putting on for their families and the local community. It was only the second show of the year so our visit was well-timed.

After watching the kids perform various tricks and stunts we met the project leader and some of the kids, who filled in some knowledge gaps for us. It was interesting to see how some determined volunteers, some money and a unique way to encourage kids can work wonders.

That night we walked a couple of blocks from our hotel to Leblon beach and had a green coconut before getting taxis to a restaurant near Botafogo.

It was a churrascaria, an all-you-can-eat buffet-style place similar to ones I'd previously experienced in Argentina.

It feels slightly odd to be blogging about eating while on a trip to visit street children, but there you go. We had to eat.

One slightly surreal moment happened towards the end of the evening when I looked up and saw two members of Arcade Fire wandering across the restaurant floor towards the salad bar. Not exactly a celebrity spot, more of an indie band spot that had a few members of our party scratching their heads.

'Arcade who?'

One jam-packed day was followed by another as we got up at the crack of dawn to visit the Street Child World Cup in Lonier, an hour's drive south of the city centre.

On the way we stopped off at the foot of the Rocinha 'community' (the new, friendly name given to Rio's favelas by the locals).

We were led up into the community on foot by Tiffany, our escort from Action for Brazil's Children Trust. Despite standing out like a bunch of lost sheep in our white Supporters Club T-shirts, we only received a few curious glances and nothing more.

Alex, our security guard, looked slightly wary as Tiffany led us into what is Latin America's largest favela but no harm was done and we were soon back on the bus.

At the Street Child World Cup we had a great time. We managed to watch the BT-supported Tanzanian boys team win a tense quarter-final on penalties, and yours truly was approached to give expert (ahem) pre- and post-match interviews on the pitch:

The set-up was first class and the volunteers we met were a great bunch. The kids were having the time of their lives and it was one huge feel-good story from start to finish.

After a lunch of feijoada, rice and salad we drove back to Rio and visited a project in a favela in the hills above the Centro financial district.

The project, CAECA, was really heartening. Slap-bang in the middle of one of Rio's favelas was a great little creche and school that was set up by a gregarious local woman about 30 years ago.

Through sheer hard work she and a small army of volunteers have created a safe haven for the children of the favela where they can come to play, learn and escape.

After the visit, a couple of friends of the project took us up into the favela for a mini tour. I visited Brazil, including Rio, back in 2008 but never had a chance to walk through a favela.

Since then, the Brazilian authorities have embarked on a 'pacification' drive in some communities. In order to try and stem the tide of drug-infused violence, certain favelas now have a semi-permanent police presence and a zero tolerance approach to gang feuds.

In reality, what this has meant is that the gang wars are still as fierce as ever, but have been pushed into other areas. However, for residents of the pacified favelas life is generally better, albeit far from being a garden of roses.

Our tour took us high up into the favela, to the crest of the hill which our guide explained was a death-charged no-go zone just 18 months ago.

The open sewers and bags of fly-covered rubbish were a bit of a shock to these Westernised, sanitised visitors but as we walked through the dark, narrow alleyways we got a proper sense of what a Brazilian favela is.

After saying our goodbyes we climbed in the minibus for a final visit of the day.

We drove to another pacified favela, this one very close to the Santa Teresa neighbourhood where I stayed on my previous visit to Rio.

We were met by a bright-eyed, friendly man called Charles. The project, a football-focused initiative backed by the Premier League and the British Council (plus money from The Supporters Club), gives children of the community a chance to play football a couple of times a week with proper kit and coaching.

Charles took us up to the pitch at the top of the community. On the way we walked through his pet project, the Caminho de Grafite (Graffiti Walk), where local kids had helped create a gallery of street art through the winding passageways in the favela.

We spent about half an hour at the top of the hill, watching the rather surreal sight of 50 or so kids in smart blue and white kits playing football under the floodlights in what was previously one of the most lethal areas of the city.

Before pacification, we heard that the pitch was used by gang leaders to play football with the severed heads of rival gang members.

Whether this is 100% true, embellished, or a folk tale, it was slightly chilling to remember how recently the favela was in the grip of violent gang-related war.

Charles took us down the back of the hill to show us a garden that the project had recently created. It was an amazing sight.

A small oasis with plants, climbing frames and swings sitting in the middle of a Brazilian favela. It was a positive end to what had been an epic day: three favelas, lots of inspiring people and some unique experiences for all of us.

The next day we went back to Lonier to watch Tanzania's boys team reach the Street Child World Cup final with a comfortable win against the USA.

After my post-match interview on the pitch (Roy Keane was otherwise engaged), we went to a restaurant nearby and ate a good lunch of fish and chips.

That evening, after a slight mishap with the taxis (cleverly, we all got in separate cabs without agreeing a destination) we visited a night market and then went for a late post-midnight dinner at a local Mexican.

The following day, our last one, was another belter.

I got up early to visit the beach. Up to that point we hadn't had a chance to go on a beach and when you're in Rio that can't be right.

I bought a coconut and watched the waves and some old guys doing tai chi for 20 minutes or so.

After a great breakfast we checked out and got in the minibus for a short journey to Fluminense's old stadium.

The club now play their home games in the Maracana but use their original stadium for training, plus to house their impressive trophy collection in a smart museum:

Our visit was for the finals of the Street Child World Cup - and it was quite a coup for the organisers to secure the stadium.

We walked through the impressive entrance hallway and up the antique staircase to the main stand.

Over the next few hours we saw both BT-supported teams (Tanzania boys and Brazil girls) win the two finals, plus a moving closing ceremony.

Couldn't get a more perfect finish than that.

We said our goodbyes to friends we'd made over the weekend and it was soon time to head to the airport for our flight home.

It was a working trip with long days and short nights, but one of the most memorable travel experiences I've had.