Viewing: las otras

14 hours in Sevilla

i discovered that i’ve been keeping this as a draft since march. march!!! since i’m feeling oddly sentimental about europe now, i thought it would be nice to finally finish this and post it.

after a four- or five-hour bus ride from granada, i arrived in sevilla with pia and jeline at about eight in the evening. i left at ten in the morning the very next day, staying a grand total of fourteen hours.

it was enough. enough at least to do the following:

  • get lost in a square full of shops that sold flamenco shoes and wedding gowns
  • somehow find our way to our totally unmarked, anonymous hostel
  • lug thirty kilos of luggage up a narrow, steep flight of stairs
  • meet the world’s cutest, most harrassed and spaced-out all-around swiss-french muchacho (the guy at the front desk at oasis)
  • be shocked that we were checking into mixed-gender dorm rooms
  • join a free tapas tour with least a dozen other travelers
  • snap pictures in front of the catedral
  • get a minor crush on one of my tapas tour-mates
  • stuff my face with sodium-packed tapas and sangria
  • laugh uproariously and take photos upon seeing that the tapas bar was on a street called calle gago
  • walk downtown to a bar called la carboneria for a free flamenco performance
  • put away my camera as requested
  • wonder why polka dots seem to be an integral part of a flamenco dancer’s wardrobe
  • watch flamenco
  • fall in love
  • marvel at the passion and intensity of flamenco all the way back to our hostel
  • be not-so-secretly pleased that we were sharing our mixed-gender hostel room with my minor crush
  • go online
  • sleep
  • wake up and get ready to go
  • misplace my room key and pay a 5-euro fine
  • have sardines and toast for breakfast while looking at la giralda in the distance
  • walk briskly with my minor crush to take photos of the catedral and la giralda in the excellent morning sun
  • part ways (he had to catch a bus to portugal, i had to catch a flight to barcelona)
  • get totally lost on the way back to the hostel
  • acquire a pair of leopard-print flats in the process
  • decided “ah f*ck i’ll miss my flight, f*ck the money, i’m taking a cab”
  • have a twenty-minute conversation with the cabbie in atrocious but oddly serviceable spanish
  • turn down a free cab ride to cordoba
  • make a friend (if i ever need a cab in sevilla, i know who to call)

incidentally, i bought a taschen book on moorish architecture in andalusia, and i found out (among other fascinating things) that granada used to be called elvira. la lang.

i am soooo going back there someday.

Spanish Saturday, subtitle Sunday

firefox shut down on me unexpectedly and i just lost a long, happy, impassioned post i wrote about starting spanish lessons yesterday and subtitling my portfolio today.

syet. feel na feel ko pa naman siya.

i’ll recreate it when i’m not so bummed anymore. besides gotta get back to work. (work on extracurricular projects, not work work, so don’t worry.) in the meantime i’ll post something i wrote today that’s not so long, but packs quite a punch.

toodles.