Chapter One: 24 Hours In Seville

Flying into Barcelona 

As I stepped off the plane, I was tired. My back hurt. My stomach was rumbling, and most of all I was nervous. Not because maybe my bag was lost in some other country, I couldn't speak the language of the people that surrounded me well, or that my phone was completely useless (thanks Verizon). No. I was nervous because I was about to see one of my closest friends again.

Last time we had left each other, it was hard enough. I'll be honest, it rocked me a lot more than I ever thought it could and would have. Throughout the short time we had be able to spend together in the summer, our bond grew closer and the friendship just became stronger. So why exactly was I nervous?

Good point.

I couldn't give you an honest answer then and I still can't now. To some degree, it's hard trying to keep a relationship with anyone from halfway around the world. Talking is sparse. Seeing each other is even more rare. Maybe I was scared I had changed. Maybe she had. But when I saw her, standing at the end of the arrivals gate as she promised she would be, everything else in my mind eased away.

We wheeled my bag out to the curb and waited for the bus to arrive. The usual small talk ensued. How was the flight? Was the hotel in London nice? How tired was I? Did I want to grab something to eat now or later? It wasn't long before that melted away and we were getting into the real subject matters - how our lives were, how school was going for her, editing for me. How were our families. What our schedule was going to be.

I tried my best the whole time to pay attention, but I was distracted by the landscape that was passing by outside the bus window. Spain was gorgeous from what I had seen from the airplane. The coastline, the mountains outside of Barcelona, but Seville was magnificent. The people that were on the streets carried themselves with such pride, sauntering down the sidewalks, cars weaved in and out of lanes, never seeming to stop. The smaller cobblestone streets passed by every couple of blocks, lined with hundreds of orange trees. I hadn't even set foot in the city and I had already fallen in love.

Thankfully it wasn't a long bus ride and we arrived at her piso in no time. Charging in, I met her two lovely roommates, Oscar and Pablo and we were out again, strolling along the winding streets, soaking in the Alameda, walking past the largest gothic cathedral in Europe, seeing Plaza Nueva, marveling at the massive wood structure Las Setas, and meandering through all the different shopping districts. I've always had a decent sense of direction, but I've also grown up accustomed to cities that were built using grids. Seville was like a pot of boiled spaghetti. Streets intersected everywhere, curving and twisting out of site. I was lucky that I had Paige guiding me, otherwise I would have been lost for sure.

                                                 Las Setas lit up at night

                                              The Giralda - built in 1198

                                                                      On top of Las Setas

One issue we quickly ran into was that we were both hungry, but it was siesta time in the city. I had always heard of siesta and understood it as a cultural thing in Spain and some Latin American countries, but I had never witnessed it first hand.

Let me tell you...

Mind. Blown.

Literally the city shuts down in the middle of the afternoon. Shops, restaurants, bars. A few select remain open, but even the people on the street disappear inside. Luckily we were able to find a little place that was still open and I was treated to my first tapas experience. More specifically, ham and cheese croquette. Oh man, smaller portions, but damn were they delicious. Perfectly fried little balls filled with salty meat and flavorful cheese. Served with a nice little glass (cañas) of cold beer (Cruz Campo). Spaniards know their meat. Specifically ham. And let me tell you, after that first taste, I wasn't going to doubt their culinary skills for the remainder of the trip.

We then wandered around a bit more before making it back to her apartment to change for the night. Paige took me out to a wonderful french restaurant that had one of the most decadent menus I've ever seen and by the end of the meal, between the wine and the three courses we ordered (Salmon tartar, roasted duck breast, and some sort of fish that was reminiscent of grouper), we both should have been rolled out of there.

But that didn't hold us back. To the bars we went!

We drank a couple more little cups of beer, hopping from place to place before deciding to head back to the apartment to rest and catch up. A lot had happened in six months and much pillow talk was needed. Plus, we needed our sleep for the next day.

It was after all the Christmas Spectacular at the school Paige teaches at and we were both invtied. Not to mention our European travels were set to begin with our road trip to Lisbon, Portugal.

                                          The Giralda under the moon

                                             Holy Christmas decorations!