Malaga day 2

Wednesday  June 1 2016

Walking from our flat to the city centre along the beach took about an hour. There were already sunbathers soaking up the hot sunshine on the sand, and hardy runners belting along the promenade. The local men wore long smart casual trousers and proper shirts, often Oxfords with button down collars. It's hot, but they look cool. Today I'm wearing checked shorts and a Gap Hawaiian style shirt with a blue baseball cap. I might as well have a big sign over my head that says TOURIST on it. But I'm from Lincolnshire and probably have Nordic ancestry, so I'm not designed for hot weather. Wearing shorts and a short sleeved shirt allows the breeze access to my axial regions. I need a hat to stop my bald patch from frying in the Mediterranean sun. So I'm adapted in my own way, and look like many other middle aged north European men. I just saw a couple dressed entirely in black, who looked much worse than me. They have probably been Goths for the last thirty years, and aren't going to change now, even if the look they perfected for Cure concerts isn't best suited to Andalusia.

The centre of Malaga is quite small, about a kilometre across, but is lovely. There is a long park full of shady palm trees and blooming jacaranda trees.Today there was a promotion for olive oil, so about every fifty metres there was a small stand with a young lady offering tastes of different oils. I was peckish, so tried it twice, and the oil from Barcelona was my favourite. I appreciated the gesture, but I'm unlikely to change my habit of buying Lidl Extra Virgin. I love the term Extra Virgin, it describes how I felt when I was seventeen!

We stopped for cafe con leche, and it was so good we had another cup. The coffees are about half the size you would get in London, but are really tasty. I visited the caballeros (gents) for a comfort break, but couldn't get out again. I twisted the little lever that sits inside of the big knob to lock myself in, but it wouldn't let me out again!I twisted it to the left and right many times BUT I WAS TRAPPED! I considered making a pathetic cry for help, but luckily another customer released me from the outside. He spoke to me in Spanish, and I smiled and left quickly muttering "gracias". I sat down with Julie again and she told me my flies were down. Sometimes it's hard being an English man abroad.

After exploring the streets of the centro area for a while, I started hunting around And found a cafe with a menu del dia that I liked the look of. After a started of salmorejo (cold soup) , I had pescada frita, fried fish, for my second course. It was a dinner plate full of fried whitebait, mussels, squid and cod, the Mediterranean must be exhausted of fish from my dinner alone! That was followed by a posters (pudding) of tiramisu and a cana of beer. Lunch cost ten Euros, what a deal!

After lunch I lumbered over to the Alcazaba, Malaga's Moorish castle and palace. It doesn't have the scale or lavishness of the Alhambra, but has many of the same features we have seen in other Andalusian monuments; patios, gardens, triple arches, decorated ceilings, fountains, orange tree and wonderful views of the city and the sea. Being gluttons for monuments we then hiked up a considerable hill to the Gibralfaro, a castle built by Yusuf I of Granada and last used in the civil war in 1936. Being a Spanish monument, it has a bar where you can buy a pint of lager in a proper beer mug.   

A just reward for all the effort in the hot sunshine.

Man eating whitebait!

View from the Alcazaba

Alcazaba walls

Malaga day 1

Tuesday  31 May 2016

The coach trip from Granada to Malaga was uneventful, hilly countryside with lots more olive trees. The centre of the city where the coach station is located is modern and undistinguished. We walked to our Airbnb along a road parallel to the coast, and it was a bit scruffy to be honest. A mishap with Google maps meant we weren't exactly sure where we were. A helpful local lady who didn't speak English lead us through a down-at-heel hi-rise housing estate, and we had our doubts about our choice of accommodation. 

When we reached the correct address, our hostess Maria (number 3) was waiting outside for us. She took us up,to the sixth floor to her clean and well furnished flat, perhaps things weren't so bad after all.

After a coffee we walked through a park for about twenty minutes to the Misericorda beach. It had three enormous brick chimneys next to it, remnants of Victorian lead smelters long since demolished. The beach is wide and long, with plenty of space and few tourists. I was soon stripped for action and wading into the sea. The locall men were entering the water gingerly, gradually working there way in as though they would never see their balls again. But I was brought up swimming in the North Sea at Filey, so plunged in and immediatly swam out for twenty yards. I could feel the admiration and envy radiating from the men, and the desire from the women on the beach ((in my imagination).

Five minutes is quite enough in the sea, I'm not a martyr. After an hour on the beach reading our books, we went to a bar for a cana of beer and a half racion (plate) of Russian salad. It isn't really a salad at all, it's cooked potatoes and peas bound up with mayonnaise, which is very tasty but very calorific.

Feeling fortified we walked back to the flat through a modern park with rectangular concrete ponds occupied by black swans, big carp and hungry Terrapins sticking their heads out of the water waiting to be fed.

Maria 111 recommended a local cafe called Caneli, round the corner from the flat. I thought I would try something different. So I picked Cazuelita Marinera, which looked interesting and exotic. But It wasnt quite the Spanish delicacy I expected. It was a dish that would have been almost at home in Blackpool; a dish of chips baked with eggs, prawns and .. elvers.

The baby eels were probably netted in the River Severn, and then shipped to Spain to be served with chips. They looked like fettuccine, and tasted of very little. I'll try anything once (within the bounds of legality and decency ) so it was good to taste these little fellas before they swim to the Sargasso Sea.

On the way back to the flat we saw a shop called Dealz, which turns out to be the Spanish version of Poundland! The stock was nearly all the same, except they sell beer and wine, and it doesn't all cost a Pound, funnily enough. So I bought three cans of San Miguel for 1.5 Euros, bargain!

Our flat in Malaga, it isn't the Alhambra

Cazuelita Marinara - love those baby eels!

Dealz - Everything is €1.50 (apart from things that aren't )

Granada day 3

 Monday  30 May 2016

This morning we were chillin' at the Mirador de San Christobal, enjoying the view over both ancient and modern Granada which is very relaxing. Today was dedicated to mooching, tootling about, pottering around and generally doing not a lot. We have seen a full roster of cathedrals, castles and palaces on Andalucian journey, so today we will stay away from  monuments.

The pleasing thing about Albaicin is that the best way to enjoy it is to simply get lost. It is a maze of narrow streets and winding alleys in which you are often walking on your own. The doors are made of stout pine, and most of the shuttered windows are covered in iron grills. It appears that security has always been a major concern in this quarter of Granada. Occasionally you can glimpse through cracks in gates to verdant patios with fountains surrounded by colonnades, the style of houses has changed little since the times of the Caliphate.

Because the streets are so narrow there is little traffic, and when cars do come along you have to pin yourself to the wall and let it pass. In England you expect to get a nod of acknowledge when you give way to someone, but it isn't the custom in Granada, the cars zoom by without so much as a smile. On the wider streets small local buses squeeze by, sometimes the hop-on-hop-off tourist services that tow a trailer of passages around the town.

Occasionally an elderly resident walks slowly by with a shopping trolley, it must be a very tough place for people limited mobility.

Several substantial sections of the city walls still stand, some with city gates over a thousand years old.  Albaicin is a special place, which is why it is protected . There are probably very similar districts in towns and cities across the Islamic old that have a similar heritage, but are not being slowly gentrified as Albaicin is.

 We ambled down hill to the river  Darro and along it to the Plaza Nueva. After lots of tough mooching about we were hungry and ready for lunch.  Passing the many cafes will tourist menus, we found the Cetti Meriem, where there were a few cafes displaying a board with a menu del dia. La Vinoteca caught my eye, so we went in in and we shown to the back of the restaurant which was half full of locals having lunch. It was possibly the best meal I have had in Spain so far, and certainly the best value.

I enjoyed; scrambled egg with cod and green beans, Mixed grilled meat and chips, Greek yoghurt with red berries and a small glass of red wine. All that was eleven Euros, not bad eh? The walk back up hill to Calle Tina was a bit slower than usual. We were so exhausted from our mooching about, eating and drinking we needed to have a siesta.

Life is 'ard.

At the Mirador de San Christobel will a section of city wall behind me

The river Darro near Plaza Nueva

La Vinoteca, my new favourite restaurant 

Granada day 2

Sunday May 29 2016

24,573 steps today, according to my Fitbit. Some I'm giving my plates of meat a rest now on patio of our place in Calle Tina. It's a great name for a street, I wonder if there streets called Calle Mandy and a Calle Sharon as well?

 

The guidebooks to Grandada warn of how difficult it is to get a general ticket (access all areas) to the  Alhambra. They say that you have to book months in advance of get up at stupid-o-clock to purchase a ticket on the day. But Tim and Julie didn't have to do that. We woke late, and had a leisurely breakfast. We even had time to try our one of those stove top espresso makers that look like a kettle with a waist. It came out fine, and tasted even better with the condensed milk that our hostess provided for is. After breakfast we walked down to the Plaza Nueva and then up the hill to the Alhambra. At about eleven, we joined a queue and got a general ticket for fourteen Euros each for this afternoon. Back of the net (as Alan Partridge would say) ! 

Feeling extremely chuffed with ourselves we walked back down the hill and explored Albaicin for a couple of hours. The highlight was the excellent Zafara centre that explains the history Albaicin, which was once a Moorish city with a population of forty thousand people. It is now a Unesco World Heritage site to protect its unique character.

Returning back up the hill to the Alhambra we toured the whole complex for five hours, it is very big with many sites (and sights) to see. All the superlatives you have heard or read about it are true, it is an amazingly beautiful place; the location, the buildings, the gardens, the decoration - the the package. I don't have the poetic or descriptive skills to explain it, so have a look on Google or Instagram.

The  Generalife is not a life assurance company, it is a large formal garden with the sweetest smelling roses! It is made up of rectangular ponds, par terres of box hedges and walls of cypress. It was the Sultan's private gardens away from the main part of the Alhambra which had a population of about a thousand.

Carlos V, the grandson of Ferdinand and Isobella who took Garanda from the last Sultan, built a palace in the Alhambra. It  looks incongruous amongst the other buildings, and Carlos didn't live there for long. In the centre is a circular courtyard that was used for bull fights. The colonnade around it was left unfinished, and a roof wasn't put onto some of it until the 1960's.

We had timed tickets to the Nazrid Palace, the most decorated part of the complex where the Sultan resided and held his court. The rooms are decorated with plaster panels of Arab calligraphy, and beautiful ceilings with downward projections that look like stylised stalagmites. From many of the rooms there are stunning views of Granada and the fertile plains below. The entire complex is a work of art!

Down the hill we tramped yet again and walked into  Granada centro for some pasta and salad; man (and woman) can not live by tapas alone. Then hiking back up into Albaicin we navigated ou way to the mirador (viewpoint) of San Nicholas to watch the sun setting on the Alhambra. You can now see how our footsteps added up today and why I have sore feet!

Dear reader, one day you must visit Granada and see the sun set on the Alhambra, it really is amazing.

Julie studying the guidebook at 8 Calle Tina

The Nazrid palaces from the Generalife gardens

The Lion Courtyard in the Nazrid palace

The Alhambra from San Nicholas mirador, with snow capped Sierra Nevadas

Granada day 1

Saturday 28 May 2016

We travelled by coach across the rolling hills of Andalucia to Granada. The countryside is almost entirely dedicated to olive production, with a few fields of sunflowers. The few towns we passed through were whitewashed and very quiet. It is an interestng, landscape but not a beautiful one. There are almost no trees apart from low olive trees, and no hedgerows or farm houses to break up the monoculture. It certainly isn't like Surrey!

Our Airbnb is a very old house in the Albaycin district, formerly a Moorish hill town full of mosques now converted to churches. We have a small flat at the top of the house with our own patio and a wonderful view of the Alhambra a few hundred metres away. We are down a narrow lane that cars can't reach, so there is no traffic noise at all.

After wall-to-wall sunshine so far in Spain, the weather turned cool and drizzly today, so sod the culture we went to some instead to keep warm. In Granada if you gat a drink you gat a tapa as well, some olives or a few chicken wings. That made us forget the English weather and relax a bit more.

Between bars we walked past a building belonging to the university which has trompe l'oile stonework painted on the outside. So we wandered in an found the most magnificent prayer room from a madrasah that existed there five hundred years ago. 

But the rain dried up, the clouds parted and the sun shone on the Alhambra, so it goes pink. Now I'm sat on the patio and the lonly sounds are the singing of the birds and bells of St Nicholas church in the distance. It really is very nice here.

The prayer wall of the former madrasah

Julie has found her niche

The Alhambra from our patio

Córdoba day 2

Friday 27 May 2016

Our B&B is in Calle Moriscoe where we are staying with Maria and Xavier. During our Andalusian holiday we are staying in four places, and in three of them out hostess is called Maria!  We have been doing our best to use a little Spanish, and can get along fine for ordering, saying hello and thank you. But pronouciation is not consistent. Some people say grasseeass, some say gratheeass. Our host is Xavier, pronounced Zaveeay. But the Ximinez sherry is pronounced Himineth. 

Inglish pronunsseeayshun is so much simpla!

The Mesquita is Cordoba's mosque and cathedral, built on a monumental scale. Like Seville cathedral, it has a courtyard of oranges,  where Muslim worshippers would wash before entering the mosque. The Spanish for courtyard is patio, which is pronounced padio like an American would.  The medievil mosque is huge, and is in a square floor plan, unlike most churches which are cruciform. I think the floor area is two or three times bigger than Lincoln Cathedral. 

When King Fernando took Córdoba from its Muslim rulers dedicated the mosque as a cathedral, but didn't demolish the structure. Inside the Mesquite the wooden ceiling is supported by hundreds of slender marble columns which have double arches above the capitals. Many of the columns were taken from Roman and Visigothic buildings. Much of the gorgeous Islamic decoration survives, including the Mihrab they holiest wall of the mosque facing Mecca.

In the 16th century a baroque cathedral was built inside the original mosque. It's is a very beautiful and elaborately decorated building, on which no expense was spared. It's a bit like St Pauls in London, but with extra Catholic decoration overlayed, in a thick layer.

I invested 3.5 Euros in an audio guide, one of those you carry round and enter a number at a location to get a description. Jesus it was annoying! There are no numbers or location signs inside the Mesquite, so you have to have a good sense of direction inside the forest of columns and chapels. I haven't, so I rarely pressed the right number and the commentary made no sense. As a non-Catholic, all the religious language made no sense to me, it was Immaculate this and Assumption that with more Saints than I could follow. There should be an audio guide for Heathens in a Hurry. The Mesquita is a memorable building that shows how for hundreds of years two great cultures coexisted,

The Mercado de Victoria is a modern building in the style of a Victorian Market hall, which sits in a park outside of th old city walls. It is foodie heaven with many small cafes selling tapa, pinchos, jamon, beer wine and other delicious food and drink. Just for a change from tapas we ate sushi and teriyaki chicken with rice, all freshly prepared and washed down with a cana (small glass) of beer.

Our final destination in our tour round historic Córdoba was the Alcazar Real, the Royal castle next to the Mesquita overlooking the river by the Roman bridge. It is an imposing fortress built by the Christian Kings over Roman foundations. It is much smaller and less elaborate than its namesake in Seville. It has some huge Roman mosaics which have been moved from other locations and put onto the walls of a hall.

The gardens are extensive and well kept with many rectangular ponds and colourful flower beds. 

Moorish arches in the Mesquite

The Magreb of the mosque,

Inside Mercado Victoria

Gardens of the Alcazar

Córdoba day 1

Thursday 26 May 2016

Córdoba is a serious party city! We arrived by high speed train from Seville during the middle of a local festival called the Feria. The lady at our B&B described it as a big party, but it isn't, it's a gargantuan party! The Feria site is located between the football ground (Córdoba United or Córdoba City, not sure which) and the  Guadalquiver river. At the entrance is a huge gate in a blend of Christain and Islamic style called Mudejar, which is found in Andalusian castles and palaces.

Strolling into the site were thousands of Cordobans dressed in traditional costume, like they had leapt off the label of a sherry bottle.  The women were in long tight fitting dresses with elaborate frills, crimson lips and flowers in their hair. The men wore smart pinstripe trousers with high waists, short tailored jackets and broad brimmed flat hats, they are very very snappy dressers. Some of the children are dressed in costume like their parents, it's a great opportunity to show off.

The site is huge, about 750 metres square, and is full of pavilions set out in blocks like a small city. Parading round the avenues are people on horseback in costume,some of the ladies riding side saddle. Horses and carriages carry people around the site in a constant procession of colour and elegance, it is just so ridiculously Spanish!

Between the avenues are dozens of pavilions, and each one has loud music, and hundreds of people eating taps and drinking wine and beer. Some are like discos with loud whomping and dancing on the tables. Others have local traditional bands and choirs playing to enthusiastic audiences, some of them in matching costumes like football teams. Getting into the swing of things we had a cana of Cruzcampo cerveza and watched the band, while taking sneaky photos of the audience who were dancing like  Catherine Zeta Jones in Zoro, looking stern and flourishing their arms like swatting invisible flies.

As well as the singing, dancing, eating, drinking and riding, there is a vast funfair with some truly nauseating looking rides. They looked more like a form of torture to me rather than anything I would consider fun. But the teenagers screamed and loved it as they should, their joi d'vivre shining from their  grinning faces. One of the rides was a swinging arm with a dozen screamng teens at each end, it must have been fifty metres high and revolved at speed.

As we left at about 8pm, with yet more people were pouring into the Freria past rows of candy floss and hamburger stalls.  We walked over the ancient Roman bridge back into the old city of Córdoba. The Mesquita dominates the city, it is an enormous mosque and after the victorybofmthe Christain Kings had a cathedral built inside of it. The streets of the old city are  all narrow and the houses are painted white with iron grills over the windows, it is a magical looking place. 

We dined at Doble le Cepe, a restaurant we had been recommended. The tapas were OK, but no better than those we ate at the bodega in Seville. It was very quiet since most of the city was at the Feria. 

Monumental entrance to the Feria

Small boy on a big horse

Lucky me and some beautiful Cordoban ladies on the Roman bridge

Seville day 3

Wednesday 25 May 2016

Today we found the best place in Seville, the Alcazar. I had dismissed it as just another castle, but with palm trees. Having been disappointed by many semi ruinous  English castles, I didn't have high expectations. But the Alcazar is like a Spanish Hampton Court, a sumptuous confection that both a fortress and a palace, not at all like Corfe Castle.

The  Christain Spanish King that conquered Seville in the 13th century didn't sweep away the Arab way of life that had existed for six hundred years, he embraced it and encouraged it. The Alcazar has parts that look like a palace in Cairo or Damascus, mixed with architecture that I have seen in London and Chantilly.

After an hour or so of taking in the culture, we went to the cafe. Having been brain washed by the National Trust, we always associate old buildings with coffee and cake. The Spanish make very good coffee, but for the good of my waistline I avoided the chocolate muffins. Julie was commended on her Spanish accent when she ordered dos cafe con leche by a man with an exceedingly luxuriant grey beard, and a pointed waxed moustache. I was a little envious, since my beard grows out curly and rust coloured like Brillo pad that's been left out in the rain.

Leaving the Alcazar we went in search of lunch and dined in a bar close to the cathedral. A small cold beer is a Euro, the same price as coke, so why choose a misarable sugary drink? Refreshed by beer and a bocadillo (baguette  sandwich) we ambled towards the Plaza Espana, arqueing gently as to the correct direction. Normally I am fairly confident working out where I am, but I am wrong sometimes which allows Julie to take control of the map. When we can't work out right direction and we are walking  where there are no signs or landmarks, friction ensues. There may then be some back tracking and grumpiness before we get th map the right way round and we work out where the fuck we are.

Plaza Espana  is a grand crescent of brick buildings cmstructed in the 1920"s for an international exhibition. It was built a huge expense in 1929, spot on time for the Wall Street Crash and economic ruin. In  London the Franco British exposition 1908 was built cheaply out of wood, plaster and canvas and painted white. It was knocked down afterwards but gave its name to White City where I used to work. The people of Seville repeated their expensive mistake with another huge exposition in 1992, which also left the city with enormous debts and some truly ugly buildings which wouldn't be out of place in Wembly or Slough.

The Plaza sits in beautiful Marie Louise park, which has many Seville orange trees. These lie unpicked on the ground because they taste very bitter and are only good for making marmalade, which few people eat these days.

Returning to our B&B, Julie looked up the names and composition of various tapas on the internet so when could order with confidence from disdaining waiters. The plan worked in a bodega in Santa Cruz and we got (more or less) the food we expected. Tonight we sat inside to avoid the awful street singers who  sing about a minutes worth of sub- Gypsy Kings bollocks before shaking a collection cup. They are masters at embarrassing tourists (like us) into parting with a few Euros to get rid of them.

The evening was rounded off with some meatballs and an enormous gin and tonic which the waiter poured into a large glass of ice. It was absolutely spot on old boy.

Julie in the Alcazar

Oranges are the only fruit, in Marie Louise park

Plaza Espana

Seville day 2

Tuesday 24 May 2016

I slept very well in a comfortable bed in a really dark room, those heavy shutters do the trick! Walking round the block we found a cafe and ordered what the guide book says the locals have for breakfast; churros and drinking chocolate. The churros were fresh, hot and a little salty. The chocolate was thick and sweet and ideal for dunking purposes, adding a suitably gloopy layer to the churros. I have a sweet tooth and thoroughly enjoyed it, but Julie ordered a cafe con leche (coffee with milk) to get her caffeine fix.

The queue for the massive Gothic cathedral was too long, so we took a tourist bus trip around town to see the sites. There are many highly decorative buildings built using the enormous riches flowing into Seville from the Spanish colonies in the Americas. A small section of the original city wall is left in the district of Macarena (like the song) which was build by the Arabs, so we got off the bus their to have a closer look. 

We wandered into a rather grotty bit of Macarena, and Julie suggested we got fruit for lunch. So we sat in a dusty square with the local winos and ate bananas washed down with water. It was definitely a low point in the day, and not what I had in mind for a holiday lunch.

Trying to find our way back to the cathedral we found  a street called Feria, which was much more welcoming and full of cafes, bars and bodegas. A simple bar took my fancy, full of men standing up drinking beer and eating salty snacks, not water and bananas. A mysterious force compelled me to enter and order two beers, dos cerveza por favor. Jesus Christ that hit the spot! Cold and delicious and served with a dish of olives. How quickly the day redeemed its self. The floor was covered in peanut shells and olive stones where the drinkers had discarded them. But being English we politely left them in the dish. Beer is the most wonderful beverage, and always makes me happy.

After that the day really went with a swing. The queue at the cathedral was much smaller, so we went toured the enormous church built on the foundations of an equally magnificent mosque that was demolished to make way for it. The best bit for me was the Giraldo bell tower, a former minaret that is climbed up using thirty seven short ramps rather rhan stairs. The people of Seville are very proud of their cathedral, boasting that it's the biggest Gothiic cathedral in the world, defiantly giving the middle finger to lesser cathedrals, up yours Exeter!

In the evening we went to Santa Cruz, the former Jewish district of Seviille. It is full of places to eat, and we soon found a cafe serving a menu de dia for ten Euros. I ate gazpacho with bread, veal stew with potatoes, creme caramel and a glass of wine. All that for under eight quid! You can see that I am getting very relaxed now, and sad to say th demon drink has a lot to do with it. By this time we were on a roll, so went into another bodega for a beer and calamares fritos standing at the noisy bar. It was heavenly, you should try it.

Walking back through the park with swifts zipping overhead and squeeking as they caught their evening meal, I felt very at home in Seville.

The courtyard of oranges in the cathedral, where worshippers would wash in fountains when it was a mosque

The Giraldo tower, a minaret with a later belfry hilt on top

 Me and the missus with the Girlado in the background

My new favourite bar in Seville, they the calamari !

Seville day 1

Monday 23 May 2016

I feel stuffed, but in a good way. Too much salad, which is possibly not a bad thing, is it?

We arrived in Seville on a BA flight from Gatwick, which was quite uneventful. The best part was my first holiday G&T, served from a tiny plastic bottle. In the truly dreadful  film The Grey, the last shot of the film is Liam Neeson attempting to fight off a pack of wolves using broken miniature spirit bottles. If he had plastic ones like I did, he would have been eaten much more quickly.

We got the EA bus into town and found our Air B&B in San Sebastián square. It is in a block of 19th century flats close to the city centre, and we have a room overlooking jacaranda trees in full lilac coloured bloom. Pepe showed us around,and his daughter Klara is our hostess. She gave me a kiss when we first met, a Spanish tradition I heartily approve of. The flat is traditionally furnished in Spainish style, lots of dark varnished wood and cool tiled floors. I'm sure it's ideal when it's 40 degrees in the summer.

We were both quite hungry so we followed the tram lines into town until engound some cafes . A garrulous waitress persuaded us into her Lebanese cafe. Not having a clue about the dishes on offer, we chose a big one which looked like the equivalent of a meze, a bit of everything. It was a healthy choice, a massive pile of salad, hummous, tabouleh, falafels, and other Levantine dishes. Two juicy lamb kebabs came with it, not in the least like the traditional English donner kebab.

As we sat outside the cafe, thousands of football bans in the red shirts of the local club Sevilla steamed past on the way to their stadium. They had reached the final of La Liga yesterday, but were beaten by Barcelona, so I'm guessing the fans were celebrating coming second.!

Lots of police cars came past, and then a band and two double decker buses, which I guess contained the team. For about ten seconds I got quite excited about football, but it soon passed. As I sit here taping on my iPad, lots of fireworks have erupted, which I think is yet more celebration of coming a valiant second. At least I think it was fireworks, they could have been shooting the defeated team.