and so we wine and dine

In Granada, at the bar in the Oasis, I meet Hannah. A gorgeous girl from Germany who is traveling alone and on route to Seville. So I ask her to join us. All too soon she realizes that Aussies are quite different travelers than Germans. There was no way we could stick to our plan of getting up at 8am after a night out eating tapas and drinking Sangria! So we she leaves ahead of us and we meet in Seville.

By now Claire and I have a pretty good thing going on traveling wise… we casually get up, eat the free breakfast, wander around gazing up at the gothic churches and ancient buildings, and from there basically café and bar hop. Sangria, food, wine, food, beer, tapas, sangria, tapas… shoud we check out the church, sure, wander around slightly dazed after the jug of sangria and in awe of the history behind the buildings. There's certainly not a great deal of planning going on. Somehow I think this could have been somewhat frustrating for Hannah who was up in the morning for a jog before breakfast and eagerly waiting for us to finish our sangria to check out the cathedral (which we never did make it to, sorry Hannah!)

We dawdle back to the hostel after wine on the river and miss out on the cheap paella. Then we sit on the terrace drinking wine and cheering on the young guy playing guitar and not really worrying about the time. Thank goodness for the Germans and Austrians. They keep us in line. At 11am we hear from across the table "calling all Australians, last bus to Lisbon. Last calls to the Australians"… shit that's us! Laughing like maniacs and running through the hostel we give tipsy farewells to everyone we see and race up the road for the station. Of course we make it with plenty of time and eat chocolate while we wait, unaware of the hell overnight bus trip ahead.

…and of Sevilla: gorgeous (after I stopped pining for Granada). More refined than Granada, but also with a rich history of Arabic influence. Bullfighting, grand buildings in yellows, pinks, pastel oranges, and blues. Streets that sometimes carry the unfortunate smell of horse piss from the many horse and buggys that cart the tourists around. Days could easily drift off sitting by the river and while we stayed not quite long enough to see, I am sure there is a great contemporary art scene bubbling away. At noon a pedestrian street fills with Sevillans who relish their beer, sangria and chips in the sun. Maybe two hundred people stand in the street, drinking chatting. Who said work needed to be done in Spain? One night is really not enough.

Aside from the pending return trip to Barcelona I realize I am saying goodbye to Andalucia and the delights of Spain's southern coast. Six weeks…?... give me six months!