Shopping then to Seville 5/30/31 2022

My morning consisted of a fast slow-fast walk in search of homeopathic Mag Phos for my funky leg. Walking gave my legs the chance to work out some funk. I began on the straight and narrow streets surrounding the hotel, eventually hitting an incline, this slowed me down. Determination is a motivator. It compelled me to visit at least seven pharmacies in a short period but yielded no results.

It was nearly 10am, I had eaten no breakfast and still had two things on my list, compression socks & a hat. I had intended on visiting El Corte Ingles when we were in Barcelona and the past days in Madrid. Many years ago, when I was first in Spain on a fashion design trip I was given a tour of the largest store in Spain by the director of said store. I got to see the inner workings of the giant retail chain – I was impressed. So much that every time I am in Spain I gravitate toward its doors to window shop, drool discretely and occasionally purchase something special.

Well, this morning when the store’s doors opened I was one of the first to enter. In my ever more intelligible Spanglish I asked for the calnecitas compression y los sombreros. To my joy and amazement the directions were given to me in Spanish. That brief moment I felt those hours of Spanish classes years ago and growing up in Los Angeles has paid off. I headed to the escalator to first buy the socks and then to the next floor for my hat.

Did I stop midway to fondle a wonderful periwinkle linen blouse? You betcha. Did I drag myself away from a black pair of pants with little flecks of paint. Uh huh. Willpower and my need to hightail it to the hotel to meet Jackie and check out temporarily saved me from a fate worse than debt. I returned to the hotel to check out.

We grabbed a cab (now available thanks to a lack of road closures) to Estacion Atocha for our journey to Seville aboard a fast train (only 2.5 hours). We had chosen to travel the rails in second class because the trains here in Europe, especially the fast ones, are clean, comfortable and lull you to sleep easily in between offering spectacular views of the countryside. I snoozed, gawked at trees and rolling hills, checked email and began this post.

We wandered the streets for at least an hour. I met a nice wire haired dachshund and his art gallery owner then tripped off to ogle the Alcazar. Back in the day the gypsies, Muslims, Jews and Christians seemed to cohabit the place just fine and dandy. This old area of town, even with the tourist tchotchkes is too cool for school.

It’s Tuesday afternoon now . We arrived at Hotel Dona Maria – both of us were hot and tired from traveling. Upon checking in to this kitschy hotel we took an hour to settle in then hit the hood like good tourists do. The hotel is in the Jewish quarter, just off the square from a huge church, the name of which currently escapes me.

During our walkabout we decided we were hungry, scouted out a restaurant and plopped down at a table inside to avoid the heat and the extraordinarily huge amount of smokers. Blech! Seventy two year old, former LA Times op-ed writer, me, had something to say, but muttered under my breath simultaneously while I ordered a tonic water .“Hadn’t these people heard about the dangers of smoking? What about Covid?” Then I looked around at the scores of unmasked people and just shook my head. We ate lamb chops and fries. I scarfed it down as if I had been previously languishing for the past year on a deserted island. This was followed by a short cobblestone promenade, a cup of obligatory gelato, and a headed back to the hotel for the night.

This morning consisted of light breakfast, the trek to the hop on bus to get my bearings and avoid a lengthy sightseeing shlepp in the heat. It was a one mile meander to the water where I located the first bus. I hopped on, climbed to the top deck and sat down, relieved to have found it and be wearing my new compression stockings I had other clothes on, just to be clear. Our next stop, the Plaza de Espana which blew my creative cerebrum. I snapped some pix, bought tiny castanets for my granddaughter, wandered about – I’m now seeing patterns everywhere like an LSD flashback. (Yes, I dropped once lo those many years ago.)

I tripped back to the bus…not literally, hopped on and rode about until I got to the Setas stop. Look it up, I’m on a roll and Need to fit a couple more things in before I fall asleep or you’re bored from reading (if not already. )

If you recall I had only yesterday avoided more time (or Euros) in El Corte Ingles – conveniently this too was at the Setas stop. I convinced myself to now carpe diem aka buy linen pants and shirt, then bought/ate a congratulatory chocolate popsicle filled with caramel, hopped back in the bus, in a sugar coma. I was too dazed and confused to notice additional sights until it was time to hop off at my stop.

I wandered to the hotel. Hot. Tired and ready to plotz, which I did.

Fast forward to rushing to the flamenco show at 7pm, then tapas, a stroll and now prepare for our trip to Faro in the morning.

Enough said.