Spain 2009: Sevilla

Christina and I took a train to Madrid from Teragona, near Salou, and then the superfast Ave train to Sevilla. At speeds up to 186 mph, it took 3.5 hours to travel the 293 miles from Madrid to Sevilla. The prices are not much lower than flying, but this is the best way to travel. Imagine if there were a high speed train from the east to west coast of the USA. One could get from New York to San Francisco in 12 or 13 hours by train.

 The impossibly winding narrow streets of Barrio Santa Cruz.
We stayed at the Dulces Sueños hostel in the Barrio Santa Cruz neighborhood of old Sevilla. It's run by a family that lives there, as is usual for the hostels and We greatly preferred this to the impersonal and standardized comforts of a hotel. The rooms were small, but comfortable and air conditioned– the temperature can get over 100˚F in the summer. We'd recommend the place.

The interior vaults of tre cathedral in Sevilla

The Cathedral of Sevilla

 When the Castilian Catholics entered Sevilla in 1248, the defeated Moors asked, as one of the criteria for their surrender, that they be allowed to dismantle the Giralda tower, then a minaret for their mosque.  It was a symbol of the city and the tallest tower in the world at the time at 97.5 m (320 ft). As the story goes, Ferdinand II threatened to kill them all if anyone touched as much as one brick of that tower. Maybe the tower was that sacred to them that they would rather destroy it as have it fall into enemy hands. Maybe that was a reverse psychology trick on the part of the Muslims, but the tower was preserved.

The Christian conquerers thought so highly of Islamic architecture that they adapted the existing mosque as a church and used it for Masses for 150 years. When they did decide to build a new cathedral there, they tore down the mosque structure and built what would be the largest gothic cathedral in the world on that spot. They still used as many of the old collumns and materials as they could salvage from the mosque.

The decree that started the construction went like this, "Let a church so beautiful and so great that those who see it built will think we were mad" It is indeed incredible to see something that large made entirely out of stone. They may have pushed the size of the gothic cathedral as far as it could go: the dome actually collapsed twice during it's 100 years of construction.

The Giralda tower still stands to this day, however, with the top third adapted in the Spanish style for a bell tower. To me it is still the most beautiful part of the complex. We walked to the top. There is a winding series of ramps instead of steps so that the imam could ride up on a horse when it was time for prayer. It was also easier to walk the 32 stories up a ramp than on stairs.

Panorama of Sevilla from the Giralda tower, looking towards the Cathedral, the Alcázar and its gardens on the left, and the Guadalquivir River in the distance. 

Sevilla catherdral plaza. I knew somehting was happening here, but I didn't know what it was.

A Flamenco Show

One night we went to a flamenco show in our neighborhood, Barrio Santa Cruz, at the Cafe de la Memoría. It did in fact become a good memory. It was unlike any performance of it's kind that I have seen. Part of its beauty was its simplicity and the intimate setting. There were four performers: a male and female dancer, a guitarist and a singer. There was a simple wooden box stage surrounded by chairs for the audience in a room off the street of an old Spanish mansion. No sound system. Each performer was superb.

We had passed the place the day before and looked in through the iron window grating, not knowing what it was. It looked like some kind of a religious setting, or meditation room, very spare, with jars of flowers around the perimeter. We asked some passersby and they told us it was a flamenco hall.

I had read that you can judge the quality of a flamenco show by whether or not you get goose-bumps. I can verify that. Without fanfare, the guitarist started to play a piece that was both peaceful and intense at the same time. There seemed to be no constant rhythm, it was always changing. And one was not aware of the complexity– it sounded so easy and natural

Then the singer, sitting next to him, held out his hand into the empty space in front of him, and started to sing. It started almost like a whisper and the place went silent. You may never hear a song sung with such deep feeling and impact as a flamenco song. And all of the flamenco singing I have heard in the past was impressive for how loud it was. So I was unprepared for the quiet and delicate force of this man's voice. The song just affected me in my body in a visceral way. As gentle as it was, my chest seemed to vibrate sympathetically with the sound, like a tuning fork will start to vibrate sympathetically if one that is vibrating is held near it. There is no other way to describe the effect without being there.

Then the male dancer made his entrance from behind the spectators. Again, he could have been an usher, he was so matter-of-fact, until he started to dance on the hollow wooden stage. This young man was a master of both the silences and the loud stamping of feet one usually associates with flamenco. He would be throwing himself into a furious dance, whirling around the entire stage, then freeze on a dime.

This was the real thing. The dancers had a plan, but they were improvising, taking cues from the musicians, who in turn, were following the rhythms stamped out by the dancers. The communication was intense, involving palmas, guitar, singing and foot work. Very internal. The woman came on last and the two danced together creating an intense connection between them without so much as touching each other.

 

The Giralda Tower. Yes, that sign says Texas.

The miners of Boliden were staging a hunger strike, living and sleeping inside the catherdral adn handing out information.

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