In her last few days before returning to North Virginia, Kealani Nanz packed her bag for a flying visit to Seville…
We booked tickets for a weekend getaway in Sevilla. I got filled with excitement for I had never done a flight or Airbnb with friends. I wondered about the possibilities this weekend. My roommate and I are both serial over-packers. We were amazed at our ability to fit everything within the regulations of one under-seat backpack. At the airport we enjoyed each other’s company and a large BK whopper in the two-hour waiting period before boarding.
While in line we made conversation with a woman from Seville who gave advice and recommendations for activities in the city. I had hoped to make a day trip to Cordoba or the cliff town of Ronda, but she advised us that there was more than enough to do within the city. In retrospect, I should not have listened to her and done what I hoped to and went to see the religious history in the other cities. Everyone seemed so enchanted by her directions, but whatever. We boarded 40 minutes late and I slept the whole two-hour plane ride. Except for the times I was jolted awake from the turbulence, that is.
A real-life dollhouse
At the Airbnb, we worried if we made the right decision. At first, the outside gate had a thin road littered with trash and loose dirt on the sides as a makeshift sidewalk and high walls. Sceptically, we walked in through the gate and laid our eyes on the interior. We realised what we had booked was a diamond in the rough. A life-size version of a dollhouse I had always wanted as a little girl. On one end was the pool, overlooking the city skyline from the hills. The pool was simple and beautiful with a small cherub fountain on one end, and a Buddha sculpture on the other end.
Around the corner was a scene from the secret garden. Decorated with Roman columns and marble tiles. Mystically designed and fairytale-like. I ducked under the hanging ivy to enter the rustic house and set my things in an upstairs bedroom covered in shades of green like a meadow. Everyone’s favourite thing about the house was the neighbours’ pets. They had a family of a sweet dog named Chuli and a couple of little cats. They all shyly welcomed us to the home and lingered around the property for treats and petting during our stay.
The streets of Seville
After being camerawoman for my friend’s house tour vlog, we all trekked to the nearby supermarket for our dinner. Three of us called an uber to get drinks in the city center. The night was warm, the city was filled with a yellow hue, and the Guadalquivir sparkled that first night for us. Exploring the town, we meandered around the cobblestone sidewalks between the century’s old buildings and past the grand fountains in the city centre or intimate ones in the squares.
Afterwards, we settled down for tapas at a small bar along the river’s edge chatting about our plans for the weekend. When we came back to the house later that night, we opened the gate to our friends’ cheers and shouts and the splashes of them playing old-school pool games. We changed quickly and joined them for a long night of what one would except from a bunch of JMU students at an Airbnb.
Bearing the heat
On Friday I woke up with the temperature already in the high 90s Fahrenheit, or the high 30s Celsius. I dressed in a white maxi skirt, and a sleeveless blue and white bandeau top. I taxied to the city centre chatting with the driver about life growing up in Seville. He dropped me off along the river and I spent the first couple of hours walking on my own.
I passed by a replica of an old explorer ship and the tower of gold. I was thinking about the past; that I was walking along the same river that mothered so many expeditions and altered the trajectory of world history. I found a little place to sit in the shade on a ledge of the river. I listened to downloaded music for a while before caving to my hunger. I went for a small lunch at McDonalds and purchased tickets to see the Real Alcazar gardens.
The Real Alcazar
These royal gardens, with history and design from the Moorish and roman empires are one of those places that words pictures simply don’t do justice to. I dreamt of being there centuries ago, walking in the huge gardens alone, maybe at night. The stars weren’t blocked by light pollution, and I could see falling stars and the Milky Way.
I dreamt of getting lost in the maze at sunset when the remaining daylight made the greenery glow shades of gold. In the dreams I wore lacy nightgowns or silk dresses that trailed along the ground. The only noise were the patter of my footsteps and the singing of birds. I hope places like that outlast the plastic office buildings that litter cities today.
Avoiding the bullfight
I almost went to see a bull fight but wrestled with the decision. On one hand it would be a one-time experience to see a centuries old tradition. Something I’ve seen in hundreds of movies and TV shows, and on the other hand I know I would not do well watching something like that in real time. I decided to skip that, and I bought my aunt a souvenir of a little mosaic mirror, and we all got in a taxi home.
For dinner, we had a potluck barbecue, a great way for us to feel at home despite being so far away. We had grilled chicken, fruit salad, and some mini appetisers of sautéed broccoli and asparagus. Not bad for being college-student made. Or a college-student maid…
