Sevilla. Oh Sevilla. Say it with me now: Se-beeh-jsya (forget that anglicized Seville nonsense). Sevilla is one big ball of sass. It’s a city with spunk: the clickity-clack of Sevillanas’ high-heels, the iridescent brightness of the afternoon sun and the Guadilquivir river curving around fountains, bullrings and palm trees. It suffers from the same intense heat of Cordoba, but even in the short 26 hours I was in city, I realized that this was a town that packs a punch. I enjoyed sitting in the unexpected squares of Barrio Santa Cruz as much as I loved walking by the whizzing trams of the city center, popping into Starbucks to cure a bout of homesickness and stopping off at a 4-storey FNAC where the Dreamgirls DVD was on sale for 7 euro (way to undervalue your merchandise… but hey, I’m not complaining). Though Sevilla has two H&M stores within walking distance of each other, the city retains a distinctive character and it was that perfect blend of the Andalusian with the international (it is, after all, Spain’s fourth largest city after Madrid, Barcelona and Valencia) that I found strangely comforting after being alone in this province what seems like a lifetime.
But I’m back in Granada now and there are 10 days left to go. My best friend from school and her brother are visiting me for a week (they get in tonight) and I’m so ready to be tour guide. I’m also ready for a week of pure, hedonistic Spanish joie-de-vivre. There are only so many nights I can fall asleep while watching The Simpsons in Spanish.
P.S. Watched the season finale of Glee yesterday night curled up in bed in my PJs. Some joys are accessible everywhere.