Holiday (Seville)

Another beautiful day dawned in Seville. Eventually. Sunrise was close to 8:30am. I mean the day is half gone, dear reader. We called home to speak to the uncontactables from yesterday and then walked to our next breakfast spot, Tarta Home. It was actually closer to the hotel than yesterday's café and had quite an extensive menu. More importantly the coffee was very good. 

Capitania General.

Blood sugar and caffeine levels sorted, we made our way to the Plaza de Espana. The exterior of the Capitania General faces our hotel. There were a few more people around than expected, but, it was a public holiday - the National Day of Spain, Christopher Columbus Day, October 12, the day he died. Getting a photo without selfie-adoring blights on the landscape would prove a challenge.

Holiday, today's title is by the Bee Gees from 1967. I was going to use the Spanish National Anthem, but opted for something more poppy.

The side entrance.

We walked down the side of the building towards the plaza. Unlike last time when we were met with black uniformed rifle carrying soldiers, this time it was people in suits and formal attire. Hmmm, wedding we thought. We followed them down the street and into the building. 

Tiles everywhere.

This is a landing on the stairwell.

As we mounted the steps, the noise level was increasing as we went through the mosaic tiled foyer area with the domed ceilings; they know how to do grand architecture in Spain. Then we were out onto a wide verandah overlooking the plaza itself. All was ready for the National Day ceremony.

Not as crowded as I'd imagined.

The Plaza was packed with seated guests, fans flapping furiously under the direct sun. We stood in the shade of the verandah. The crowd below us gathered, the verandah crowd stretched its length and waxed and waned with interest. There were also spectators upstairs on the balconies above the portico. It was all quite grand and supervised by armed soldiers.

No idea who he is, but he must be important.

At the stroke of midday, the marching band, carefully secreted in the park across the road, struck up and commenced their march into the plaza. They were followed by various arms of the defence forces and support services. The special people, the besuited crowd, were melting in the sun as their fan speed reached epic proportions. It was still cool in the shade on the verandah.

The band played on and the speeches commenced, a clear signal for us to leave. Now, be fair, my Spanish is limited to ordering breakfast or beer so we wouldn't have gained much by staying. And we weren't close enough to see any of the invited guests faint, as amusing as that would have been. 

Zaragoza.

It was time for some photos on ground level. Around the semi-circular construction of the Plaza building are a number of bays that highlight each of the fifty Spanish provinces. Either end of the building has an exclamation mark in the form of a tower. All in all, a rather spectacular building. The water feature is a let down - I was expecting something you could boat on, not that it would have been allowed today. The ducks were unconcerned by the ceremonies taking place.

Impressive.

Then it was off to explore the park and see what lay beyond the limits of our map. Well, it was Christopher Columbus Day so exploring beyond the known reaches seemed the thing to do.

The first sight and sound we experienced, however, was not unknown - from the moment we arrived in Seville, the sound of clip-clopping has been the sound backdrop both day and night. For some reason best known to the locals, there is a large band of open carriage drivers who 'take tourists for a ride' around all parts of the congested old town and down the wide avenues that lead into the park. They are literally everywhere, and, like government buses back home, they travel in convoys, grouped it seems by colour of horse. 

Not only do you need to keep an eye out to avoid being run over, but you also need to keep an eye in front of you to avoid stepping in the political commentary the horses leave behind.

We decided it was better to get off the main roads to try to take in some of the serenity in the park oasis, seeking out shady arbors and water features as the Spanish afternoon sun started to ramp up. We spotted what looked like a fountain and headed towards it, only to be blocked at every turn by barricades and signs to keep out. In fact the entire water scape, complete with ponds, bridges and fountains was off limits.

The forbidden water feature.

Suddenly, we thought we were back in Paris where civil disobedience is a way of life. There were people everywhere inside the barriers: wandering, taking selfies, prancing over bridges, sitting on the benches, ignoring the signs that, I believe were pointing out some sort of avian illness. My photos were taken from the legal side of the barricades and you can't prove otherwise.

Arty shot.

We selected paths at random and ended up beyond our map, such trail blazers. Actually we were in front of the Art Museum, another rather grand building with beautiful gardens. 

The Art Museum.

Turning around we followed another path that led to a waterfall. Water, flowing water, was an important part of Moorish culture, not just for practical agricultural reasons, as it also provided a peaceful sound backdrop.

The waterfall.

The waterfall was man made and created for the sole purpose of ensuring a constant flow around the park via gravity. Very clever.

An uninspiring 'fly past'.

Our journey had taken us back towards Plaza de Espana where it appeared that festivities were wrapping up. The marching band was heading our way which created its own moments of interest as stupid tourists were unable to follow the directives of the soldiers. One woman sat on her hire bicycle and was amazed when she was told to move because she was in the middle of the street that all the band and following soldiers were going to march into. Just one look at what was coming towards you and common sense. No?

Listen to the band.

Despite her idiocy, we were up close and personal with the departing defence people and the band. One group, I don't know what arm of the forces they are, have the most stupid hat ever. You've seen Foreign Legion hats that have a flap down over the back of the neck, dear reader. Well, these hats fold upwards. Rednecks. It should be the state hat of Queensland.

The hat for rednecks.

After all that time in the sun, it was time for a beer at the hotel and a siesta before our final dinner in Seville. We even turned on the television to see what the Spanish were watching on the national holiday. It turns out, in Seville, Christopher Columbus Day coincides with the feast of Our Lady of the Pillar, Seville's patroness. The street procession of Our Lady wound its way at snail's pace through many streets and many, many, many hours of television coverage to eventually arrive at the Cathedral. 

There are many eucalypts in Spain.

We assume it arrived; we left for dinner at Barrio Cervecería Sevillana again. Another excellent tapas dinner and that brioche dessert even I get excited about.

Tomorrow is a public holiday in lieu of today and a transit day. What could go wrong?

Until next time.