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.
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.