Álvaro Peregil's sherry bar, Sevilla

Seville...where to start?

We drove in on Sunday night from the coast. Parked the car in our hotel's underground lair. The last thing you want in Seville is a car! Went out to explore the surrounding area. On our way back from the tapas bar, we passed a Carmelite convent and Santa Clara church. Behind the closed doors, we could hear voices raised, singing praise. On the embankment of the river Guadalquivir, I found homeless people sleeping under trees. At least it is still warm at midnight.

On Monday morning, I went out exploring on foot. Steve wanted to rest in the lobby. I did a recce of the historical centre and the shopping area. Everywhere there was something to marvel at (Seville is nicknamed Sevilla, la maravilla: literally, Seville, the marvel). I passed a flamenco busker in a square, dancing to music from a ghetto blaster, changing her dresses for different outfits. I shot some video of her routines (there was a time when I attended dozens of flamenco performances in the South-West, in the summer of '96, when I dated an English/Kiwi flamenco guitarist).

By the cathedral steps, I sat down to eat an ice cream. When I stood up, I banged my head hard on something, and looked round for the offending article. It turned out to be a heavy looped iron chain! Ouch.

By following the tram lines, I relocated the non-pedestrianised area, and caught a bus back to the hotel, which took me through Triana, the grittier area across the river. Had lunch and a siesta with CleanSteve, then set off for the centre. The weather was cloudy, with intermittent rumbles of thunder, but still warm. We missed the first two buses, so jumped on the third, which was going in the wrong direction. Whoops. Fortunately the same bus on the other side of the road took us all the way back to the bullring, from where we could walk to the Alcazar.

The Alcazar is a palace, or series of palaces, with many Mudéjar-style arches, carvings and cool courtyards. Also many decorative tiles, and a fabulous painting of 'The virgin of the explorers' (Christopher Columbus and co.) There were so many people, and a timed-ticket entry system that keeps people moving, that I concentrated more on seeing, and using the audio guide, than on taking photos. I'm sure CleanSteve will have some...

Afterwards we wandered through the barrio Santa Cruz, The former Jewish quarter, to this bar, which I'd spotted earlier. I had a Manzanilla, a sub-category of sherry. It was delicious. Following this interlude, we wandered a bit more, in search of food, and ended up close to where we'd begun, in a restaurant that specialised in paella. I had the seafood variety. Very good!

On our way back through a plaza, we stumbled across another flamenco performance, this time with live guitar and a singer, as well as two female dancers performing Sevillanas, the dance for two people, traditionally a man and a woman. Glorious! For me, anyway. Not sure that it really floats Steve's boat.

The bus took us back to the San Lorenzo district. On the way we passed a riverside bar, the Rio Grande, which I suddenly remembered seeing on my previous trip to Seville, 34 years ago. I'd got off the train at the then-magnificent Plaza de Armas station, and wandered around, failing to find a room to stay in, weighed down by my 20-kilo red rucksack. I found a lemon ice lolly, but not a room. Worn out by the 42-degrees-in-the-shade wall of heat, I eventually gave up and rang some Spanish friends nearby, asking if I could come and stay. Now it's 2018, Plaza de Armas has become a horrid bus station, the trains run from the other side of the city, and I have a room in an actual hotel.

On our return, we finalized the plans for our last day in Spain. As walking in the city heat is not ideal for CleanSteve, this involves another amazing road trip. Here's hoping...