Sevilla

     You could smell incense in the air. Two cops stood side by side blocking the thin street from cars. People were walking, trancelike, to a giant gilded statue of the Virgin Mary, perched on invisible shoulders hidden beneath a velvet curtain. There were black suited musicians, most of them young, with gleaming brass instruments and drums, silently waiting behind. I took my place among the other onlookers. The air was starting to get cold but the heat from a dozen candles warmed the tiny street and sent shadows dancing up the cobblestones. Suddenly, and with a volume that made me jump, the drums started. BOOM! Silence except for the echo rolling out like a carpet along the street. Then the brass started. One by one, the musicians started to sway.

     We went down to Sevilla without a plan, without a place to stay, and without knowing much about the city beforehand. We knew we had a long weekend to take advantage of and my good friend from school offered us a cheap way to ride down. On the way we stopped off in Trujillo, a small pueblo an hour south of Madrid famous for being the birthplace of the conquistador Pizarro. It was the first truly cold day we had and people were wrapped up in big coats, walking across the town square where a statue of Pizarro stood beneath the shelter of a medieval church. We had café and tapas under an awning. Stalls on the outskirts of the plaza sold roasted almonds, walnuts, and sweet pecans. I bought a big bag before we headed back to the car.

    

Trujillo

          When we got to Sevilla, Cody, Jake, and I thought it best to go ahead and figure out a place to stay. It was the day after Halloween and we didn't realize that the hostels would be all booked up. We followed our phones around winding streets, looking for the blue and star sign of a hostel. Finally, after four rejections, the owner of one offered to rent us his private apartment. Altogether it was only 10 euros more a night than a regular hostel room and this way we wouldn't have to share a bathroom or kitchen.

          Not planning turned out in our favor. The view of the city was incredible. We spent the next two days travelling with a friend of mine who showed us all of the best places to walk, eat, and drink in the city. Here are a couple of my favorites:

1. Serranitos in El Patio: Serranitos are a specialty in Seville, especially if you find yourself in El Patio. The bar was packed with people and we had to scream to get our orders heard but the atmosphere was amazing. When you get your bocadillo you sit on raised steps in the back of the bar and eat, throwing your napkins and toothpicks on the ground in true Spanish style. A serranito is a ham, green pepper and mustard sandwich served hot. Wash it down with a glass of beer and you're ready for a couple more hours of sightseeing.

 

 

2. Las Setas : Literally The Mushrooms, Las Setas is the largest wooden structure in the world and dominates the middle of downtown Seville.  For around 3 euros you can go take an elevator to the top and walk around the curving stairs that follow the contours of the sculpture, getting amazing views of cathedrals and white washed buildings. At the end you trade your ticket in for a beer or glass of sangria. This is a great starting part if you're touring the city for the day because it allows you to orient yourself to where the major sites are.

 



 



3. The Cathedral and main square: Nearly every town in Spain has a major square around which are the major sites but Seville's was by far the most picaresque for me. Whitewashed walls, orange trees, clean streets, flamenco dancers, gypsies that try to steal from you while handing you a sprig of rosemary. It's the picture of Spain you always had in your head. Add to that amazing weather, horse drawn carriages and street music and you have an unforgettable experience.

4. Plaza de Espana : At dusk we headed to Plaza de Espana. Originally built for Spain's world fair, the massive complex is now one the greatest tourist attractions in Seville. We walked through giant pillars just as the sun was setting. I've never seen anything like it. The Plaza is shaped like a horseshoe with a circular moat on the inside. The size alone knocks the wind out of you and we all split up to explore it on our own before we were capable of speaking again. Around the outer walls are murals depicting the different regions of Spain. Bridges span the moat and connect to a giant tiled circle where carriages and street vendors sell roasted chestnuts and drinks.

 

 

Like the procession we wandered into that night, Seville was strange, beautiful, and totally unexpected. It goes to show you that sometimes the best adventures are those unplanned. 

Travelling Alone

"You know what no one ever talks about?"

A friend asked me.

"What's that?"

"The lonely times. The gaps when nothing's going on and you want to be home."

I've been thinking about that a lot lately and she was right. It's a dirty secret that we don't bring up, that travelling alone and living abroad isn't always what our posted pictures seem to be. The holidays can be especially tough when you're living four thousand miles away. Bus rides through the countryside can be bleak when it's dark and raining and you're tired and every mile is taking you further away from your friends. That's where I found myself a couple days after Christmas. Taking a night bus from Dublin to Kilkenny to see some more of Ireland before I flew back to Madrid.

For some reason the aloneness of where I was hit me. Any immunity I had to loneliness had been wiped out by the closeness of family and late night talks with my uncle and playing with my little cousins over the past week. Now here I was again, about to stay the night in a hostel in a town I didn't know, way out in the rainy Irish countryside.

After I dropped my stuff off at my hostel I walked into town to grab dinner. Eating alone that night I realized something about travelling alone. It forces you to think about the people you want to be with. Whoever you're having that imaginary conversation with, whoever you want to be using your shoulder as a pillow on a long journey through the country. It makes you really think about who you want to spend your time with.

Now that I've been alone for close to four months I've had long talks by myself with ghosts of people back home. I've laughed thinking of what I was going to tell my brothers and sister about my most recent trip. I've had my shoulder ache in a bar, wanting to put it around the person I love. You see so many amazing things abroad, you meet so many interesting people that sometimes you have to stop yourself from turning around and telling something to the person that isn't there. The one you can't see for six more months that's back home.

I haven't found a vaccine for this ache yet. All I can do is try and keep myself moving forward. Get myself out of bed, see new things, keep pushing myself to learn and explore despite it. When you get home and you're back in that comfortable warmth where you belong, you'll have plenty of stories to tell and adventures to share, and you'll be more appreciative of the people you left behind when travelling alone.