Spain, Day 6: Out on the Town in Sevilla

On route from Granada to Sevilla, I had a little headache, so stopped at this truck stop diner for some coffee (or cafe con leche, as they say). I was in love with this place. Outside, the covered patio housed two diners mowing down on olives, wine, and "steak" of some sort, all in the romantic environment of passing trucks and freeway noise. Why anyone would choose this place is a little beyond me, but there you have it.

Upon arrival in Seville, we were so tired from our long day 5 in Granada as well as from the drive in, that we just napped and hung around the new apartment. Though it wasn't as nice as the old one with the balcony, it certainly did have all the things we needed and a HUGE window that opened up onto the (unfortunately closed) pool.

To make up for lost time lounging around, we gussied ourselves up (I wore a headscarf and realized only after about three hours out that I was the only person aside from sari-wearing women who was wearing one. Hmm. Here's hoping I didn't offend anyone), headed to the metro, and went out on the town.



Everything was lit up though, despite the late hour. Churches look far more majestic under cover of night, non?



Righto, now for the scariest photograph taken in Spain taken by Yours Truly. This is real; this was my real life; this scared the living Jesus right out of me. What the HELL is this all about? This does not look like Easter to me, folks.

Ah, here is one of the "floats" (for lack of a better term, though I'm sure the carriers of such a massive beast would certainly not say that verb represents its motion well), adorned in this case with Mary and hundreds of lit candles. A marching band walks down a certain street first, followed by this thing. Onlookers gawk (I was so one of them) until it passes (usually in about twenty minutes), then fill the streets with animated Spanish talk about what I can only assume is their impression of the massive structure, and all the pomp and circumstance that went with it.




Shot alongside the cathedral so you can get a better idea of the "float's" sheer size. I can't imagine how many men stand beneath this thing to carry it, but I'm sure it's as many as will fit.

And now for the (far-away glimpses only) black version of the KKK uniform in front of the cathedral. This was the strangest spectacle I've ever seen.



The massive cathedral in the city's centre. Turns out it is third largest in area, second only to St. Peter's in Rome and St. Paul's in London. HUGE.



The tapas bar we chose...awesome spot.



Looking quite serious, tableside.

At last, the full moon made her appearance.

Pretty, pretty happy to be out on the bright streets, surrounded by thousands of years of history, on a balmy evening, with my good friend, at 2 in the morning. That's living the good life, Lovelies.