Having seen the major “attractions” I spent the rest of my time in Seville just enjoying the city walking around sitting and having coffee and just getting lost in the old city and parts of the new.
On Saturday I decided to find out what was happening on the other side of the river which was actually quite close to my room but the opposite direction from the old city. I began walking on my side and heading toward a bridge to cross. My aim was to eventually make it the contemporary art museum. Just as I arrive at the bridge I noticed a structure that reminded me of the Market building in Madrid where I had a eaten some very fine tapas a couple of times. This proved to be a bigger and slightly more modern version.
Seville market
I went in and picked out a couple of fish tapas and ordered a beer. I made my way to the communal tables and even before I managed to sit down and organize myself this young blond woman struck up a conversation with me.
Ended up talking with her for a couple of hours. She was a student from St. Louis taking a couple of classes in Seville and she turned out to be a cheerleader! I was flattered that she wanted to talk so I mostly listened while she filled me in on her, somewhat sordid life at school.
It was fun to have pleasant conversation over my lunch and while she was awfully young it was hot outside and this place was air conditioned- it didn’t hurt that she was very easy on the eyes.
Contemporary art museum.
I finally decided that if I was going to have time at the museum I had better get moving and I made my goodbyes and headed over the bridge. The opposite side was not that exciting but there was an area with lots of cafes and restaurants lining a walking street coming off the bridge. I’d just eaten so I headed toward the museum located on the edge of an industrial park that could have been anywhere. Wide deserted streets and low rise office buildings and warehouses. The sun was quite strong so I didn’t tarry and got to the museum which was a old convent that had been converted. The front door was at the end of loooong walkway from the street and you entered through a small door punctuating a much larger one. Admission was free and the bathrooms were clean, the art however was more of what I’d seen in Barcelona. Text based with videos of white guys explaining the importance of questioning reality. There was one installation that was great in a now unconsecrated chapel. It consisted of full size marble figures of men and women in medieval armor and garb sleeping atop marble tombs. The piece was, however, more than 500 years old but the poses of the figures and quality of the carving was quite accomplished and really quite moving. Someone should just put some curatorial gobbledygook (apologies Nick Capasso) alongside the entry and called it a post modern appropriation.The rest of the complex, quite large were just endless galleries, empty of patrons, with more examples of work that just makes me tired. I found my pace increasing and I made my way out back into the sun and headed home. The walk out made me notice a giant arm and face sticking out of some windows. Not great but it least it made me stop and take a photo.
Post modern appropriation.
I crossed the river on a different bridge which had the kindness of having a walkway shaded by canopies. I decided I would pass thru the market and if the cheerleader (I’d already forgotten her name) was still there I would offer to buy her dinner. She was, I did, but she had a ticket to a flamenco performance so she decline.
June 4th
My last day in Seville was spent doing what I should have done on the first day. A free walking tour. I joined a bit late but followed along to a part of townI had missed eventually ending at a huge park that contained buildings from the great exposition of 1929. 
The crown jewel of all this was the Spanish pavilion which was a gigantic semicircular structure anchored at each end with a large towers.
Spanish pavilion 1929
There was a canal with boats for rent and it had a vaguely Venetian look. I walked across the huge open space it enclosed to the center to take photos and found the center pavilion filled with other tourists with the same idea most watching flamenco performers who were quite good. I opened my sketchbook and started to draw and enjoy the music. It was also great watching all the tourists one of which was dressed in a flowing red dress that moved in the breeze and shimmered in the sunshine. I was so captivated that I made a video.
Had a great lunch in a cafe at the edge of the park and then wandered back to my room. Seville is a lovely city with a well kept old town, a good part of which was made up of the Jewish quarter – sans Jews of course. Large parks and grand boulevards fill in the more modern areas and lots and lots of cafes.
Grand boulevards.
Closed! :-(((
I never had to walk any distance to find a place to have coffee. The only hard part was finding a table, a rare commodity during the lunch, pre-dinner drink time, and, of course, the dinner hours that began around 9:00. It’s always difficult to find a table and when I do I feel guilty because I’m taking up a table that could seat four or more. Difficult; but not impossible and I could move nimbly and swoop in when I saw people getting up to leave. I
couldn’t find a way to expunge my guilt about taking up a table but eating and drinking outside was my greatest pleasure in Spain. I almost never ate a meal or had a drink indoors. Had one last look at the Municipal Parasol before I headed home for bed.
Off to Cadiz in the morning……
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