Sorry, we’re behind on the updates! We’re about halfway through our stay in Sevilla. We’ve done a lot here: We visited several tourist sites (Cathedral, Real Alcázar palace and gardens, Plaza de España, Las Setas, and the Roman ruins underneath them), attended a flamenco performance and a Sevilla FC match, and took a day trip to Jerez de la Frontera to tour a sherry/brandy winery.
Before diving into all those fun things in more detail, I’ll back up and share a bit about our neighborhood and experience getting to know Sevilla.
When we arrived in Sevilla, the sidewalks around our apartment were overflowing with people, forcing us into the road at several points as we walked to the grocery store. I worried that this was the standard midday Saturday tapas-bar-going crowd and that I’d feel perpetually claustrophobic in Sevilla, but as we rounded a corner and saw a street blocked off by police cars, we quickly realized that something else was going on.
That something was a procession of a trono (throne) from one of Sevilla’s more than 60 hermandades, literally meaning brotherhood or fraternity and referring to a group of laypeople who perform public religious acts. These include the processions during Semana Santa, the week leading up to Easter, as well as on other days of significance, like the days of their respective patron saints.
Alex determined that it was the Salida Procesional de la Virgen del Rosario organized by the Hermandad del Santísimo Cristo de las Aguas. We observed it with multiple senses—watching the people marching in the street, hearing their loud drumming, smelling the incense. By the time we got back from the store, the procession had reached our street.
It was a fitting—albeit, very strange—welcome to Sevilla, the fourth-largest city in Spain, the capital of Andalucía, and a place known for lavish processions during Semana Santa.
On the more ordinary side of things, we’re staying adjacent to the city center in a neighborhood called El Arenal. We had wanted to stay in Triana, a more residential neighborhood across the river but couldn’t find the right Airbnb. As it turns out, it doesn’t matter. It takes us only about 15-20 minutes to walk to Triana, and really, it takes us no more than 30 minutes to walk anywhere.
In addition to El Arenal and Triana, we’ve walked around several neighborhoods: the centro, mostly a shopping district; Santa Cruz, the most touristy part of the city with the narrowest medieval streets; Macarena, an artsy, hipster neighborhood to the north; and La Buhaira and Nervión, two residential neighborhoods to the east. Here’s a map of many of these neighborhoods to orient you.
Sevilla both does and doesn’t feel like a large city. The metro area is home to around 1.5 million people, but the city center is reasonably walkable. I say “reasonably” because it reminds me of being in Florence and Rome in that the streets are made of cobblestones and are often very narrow. Streets that seem pedestrianized aren’t necessarily. We often find ourselves diving out of the way of bikes, scooters, mopeds, cars, especially delivery vehicles, but mostly other people, as Spaniards seem to embrace an ethos of “walk wherever you feel like” over “walk to the right.”
There’s a metro and a tram, although both operate on only one line, and we’re so close to the center than neither have been useful. The housing in the city center is usually three or four stories, but we saw many high-rises over ten stories in the neighborhoods of La Buhaira and Nervion. (We’re on the third floor of a three-story building, meaning fourth floor in US numbering.)
We’re also very close—honestly, closer than we’d like, due to the volume of tourists they attract—to several tourist sites. We’re down the street from the cathedral. We drove right by it in our taxi ride from the train station, although I didn’t realize at the time that I was seeing the Puerto del Perdón, the main entryway to the cathedral that is preserved from the mosque that used to stand in the same spot.
My favorite part of the cathedral is the Giralda, the minaret of the old mosque which was turned into the cathedral’s bell tower. I also find it helpful to find in the sky to orient me while walking around the city.
We’re also close to the Guadalquivir River, whose name made more sense when we learned it was derived from the Arabic Al-Wadi Al-Kibar, meaning “The Great River.” As Spain’s only navigable river, it allowed Sevilla to serve as the port from which goods returned from the Americas, making 16th century Sevilla one of Europe’s most important, populous, and wealthiest cities. (The river was necessary to the existence of the port, but Sevilla was helped out by the Spanish crown, who granted only the one royal license for trade with the colonies.)
The riverfront is not the most scenic one we’ve seen, but it’s flanked by several historic structures. There’s the bull ring, which is nearly 300 years old. The building is nice, but we won’t be visiting as I refuse to support bullfighting.
A couple blocks down the river is the Torre de Oro (Tower of Gold), an 800-year-old watchtower.
The Puente de Triana, one of the two bridges we cross regularly to walk to Triana, also has some interesting history. For many years, it was the only bridge connecting the two sides of the city. However, it wasn’t a regular bridge but a “boat bridge,” a series of wooden boats chained together to form a bridge.
If you have noticed any dissatisfaction in the tone of this piece, I won’t lie, I don’t love Sevilla. Living near the city center is chaotic and overwhelming. I didn’t feel this way in Bilbao or Málaga, Spain’s fifth and sixth largest cities, and Málaga also had a mazelike, tourist-filled city center. It’s been hot with afternoon temperatures regularly into the 80s. I also wouldn’t describe Sevilla as pretty, although it has some beautiful individual structures. It’s just not as picturesque as the pastel Baroque architecture all over Salzburg or the matching terracotta rooftops of Florence or the all-white structures of the Pueblos Blancos. Also, after exactly seven months of travel, Alex and I are somewhat exhausted of making temporary homes in new places.
Still, I can’t complain too much—not with views like this only a short walk away.