Seville - an assault on the senses

I’ve always been an Hispanophile, but nothing prepared me for the glory of Seville.  I can’t imagine why I’ve never been there before, but I know I shall certainly go again.

If you’ve been to Seville, read no further.  But if somehow, like me, you’ve missed it up until now, read on then book your flight.

The city is physically astounding - stunningly beautiful whichever way you turn.  Despite being Spain’s fourth city, it has an intimate feel and is warm and welcoming.  My visit was in March when the trees in the streets were laden with orange blossom - the fragrance was almost overwhelming.  Everywhere there is music - students wandering round in groups performing impromptu flamenco on guitars; less well-heeled men playing joyous piano-accordian outside shops, bars and restaurants; and everywhere there’s talking, talking, talking.

Even in March (and before Semana Santa) the streets of the two main old city areas, Santa Cruz and La Macarena, are thronged with good natured revellers day and night. The city has a wonderful vibe and it’s one that you don’t really want to leave in order to go back to your hotel for the night.  The food is wonderful and wine scarcely less so.  Waiters are professional and friendly and greeted my stumbling Spanish with pleasure, rather than the sneer you might encounter in a tourist-stuffed town in the south of France, for example.

There’s so much to see and do that I won’t even attempt any highlights here - just get a good guide book (the Dorling Kindersley one is excellent) and GO!



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