Everything went as according to plan: smooth flights, edible plane food, no layovers, and my baggage was delivered in a timely fashion. As I began telling my taxi driver where to go it slowly began to sink in: holy crap, I’m finally here. The heat was intense– the physical and the emotional. My cabbie began to obsess over the 44C weather as my new reality began roaring in my head; the phrase: estoy aquí. Over and over again. After two years of planning, and it’s happening: NOW.
While in Sevilla I stayed at the Hotel Catalonia Giralda where I practiced my Spanish with the front desk clerks and was received with a warm smile as they observed my efforts. I visited the normal tourist locations: El Barrio de Santa Cruz, La Giralda, El Real Alcazar. I saw las gitanas waving leaves of sage outside the catedral, waiting for the confused, weak, and jet-lagged to stop for a palm reading. I also decided that I want a Sultan to fall in love with me because it seems that every architectural beauty there was inspired by a beautiful human one long ago. Everything in El Sur so far is filled with warmth and light– the people, the food, the sky, to the tiny and gorgeous details hidden on all of the buildings.