Final Day inSevilla

I am, as usual, incredibly sad to report today is the last day of my trip. I’m especially heartbroken that this summer’s adventure was only half of what I normally do; it feels very strange to be coming home in July. Yeah, yeah, I know . . . I am lucky to be able to do any of this at all. And, I truly do feel fortunate, in addition to the spoiled bratty sadness that it’s coming to an end. Leaving also has a different feeling to it since I have been travelling in places that I am not familiar with. It has been quite a few years since I have travelled in countries that I have no familiarity with. I was truly a tourist and it was a huge amount of fun. My summers in Italy haven’t had that quality since I’m so used to the culture, language, trains, people etc. I am grateful for having had the opportunity to visit Portugal and return to Spain, to a region I had not been in before. Europe fucking kiss ass, plain and simple! Alright, on with a story . . .

Because I am a planner, when I’m not lounging about being a drunkard in Roma, I left today free to do some shopping (not under the influence of Sangria this time) , have a nice long walk in the park, and tapas bar hop for some final snacks, cerveza, sangria, and manzanilla (yes I am mixing). I’m also still planning on going to the bullfight tonight, against my better judgment.
Anyway, the day has been fabulous. The Maria Luisa Park is huge, beautiful, and awesome. It was the sight of the Iberoamerican Exhibition of 1929. Because of this they built some seriously impressive national pavilions, the best of course is Plaza de Espana. It’s so expansive, as a matter of fact, I couldn’t get the whole thing into a picture. The rest of the park is full of fountains, sculptures, green space, and thankfully shade. It’s hot as hell today!

This last bit of information will be especially meaningful to Angela. She is a huge fan of my alter ego, “Summer,” who made her first appearance in Spain. I stopped at a recommended tapas kiosk in the park for food and cerveza. The bartender/cook was this old man who made fun of every single customer at the place. He also sang your order, threw napkins at people standing around, and yelled nonsense at anyone who walked by. He was hilarious. When he realized that I had no game in Spanish and he couldn’t speak English, he took to whistling, pointing, and making assorted noises to get his point across. Apparently, instead of just swatting at a fly that was pissing me off, he wanted me to squash it with his menu. Um, yeah no. Not on the bar, thanks. So, I was quietly eating and watching him give these 3 guys, standing near me, massive amounts of shit. One of them returns an insult and he responds by grabbing his junk and pretty much telling them to suck it. I just happened to look at him at this exact moment and burst out laughing. Both the bartender and 3 guys thought my laughter was even funnier than the exchange they were having. It was also, apparently, an invitation, for the only one of them who spoke English, to come over and talk to me. At this point, I would like to be able to tell you that I met the modern day Don Juan of Sevilla, but that would just be an enormous lie. I did, however, meet a rather chatty, pushy, Spaniard who was also very attractive. Until he opened his mouth to reveal his ONE TOOTH. Holy. Shit. Looking into that pie-hole was like staring into the sun. I’m not sure if it was the spell of his dental issue (notice I used the singular of issue, not issues, because of his 1 tooth . . . get it!) or the muchas cervezas he bought me, but I revealed a little too much about my intentions for this evening. Since I was still deciding between a Flamenco bar and the bullfight, he decided he would accompany me to the bar; and, he wasn’t taking no for an answer despite my best efforts. Ok, let’s just put this out there, I am that shallow, that I can’t get past the missing 27 teeth. Thus, “Summer” arrived. She gave her name, the neighborhood where she was staying, and the time she thought she might be at the Flamenco bar. None of which remotely resembles me or where I will be. I love that girl!!!!

So, I may or may not be able to post about the bullfight tonight. I guess that will depend on whether or not I’m in the fetal position from all the inhumanity and bloodshed. If I don’t, be warned. Liz, per tradition, is picking me up at the airport tomorrow evening and we will be out terrorizing the citizenry of Alexandria until I pass out from exhaustion; join us if you will. That is assuming that I make all my connections in Barcelona and Paris. Oy!
Flamenco costume store; or what I envision and LSD trip would be like.

midget nuns who kept popping up while I was shopping. Yeah, I know this will land me in hell.

just for more perspective on how small they really are

Queens Sewing Box, former garden lodge of the Palacio de San Telmo

Plaza de Espana, right before I dropped by guide book into that stagnant water belonging to the fountain that is not running. Seriously??????? Good thing its my last day and I no longer need it. I think it might have Hep C.

one of 4 sets of bridges

each province in Spain is represented

province of Cadiz

pretty pretty fountains

Frog and Swan fountain

the Lions fountain

these things are all over Sevilla, on statues, fountains, the tops of buildings, and staircases

Museo de Artes y Costumbres Populares

statues everywhere

nasty post-park feet