







We went to the ‘Alcazar de Seville’ today. We are glad that we came to this one after the one in Granada, otherwise we would have been disappointed with Granada. This place is magnificent. Huge gardens with so many shady places to sit and rest from the sun. Although we found out very quickly that lying on the grass is frowned upon. Throughout the palace the Islamic patterns, motifs, mosaics is mind blowing. They seemed to be more extensive and have more colour in the decorations than what we saw in Granada, and we were wondering if this is because they have been better preserved, or because there has been more extensive restoration carried out. We are still getting used to the unexpected Islamic and Middle Eastern influence that there is in this part of the world. The gardens are a combination formal and informal, with large dry yellow clay paths. The space gives you a sense of peace and serenity. The day that we were there, there seemed to be an art class taking advantage of the gardens. With easels set up, it was interesting to wander around and see their various works in progress.
We finished the day today by going to see some flamingo dancing after dinner. It was a little club that you would walk past without noticing if you weren’t looking for it. Walking down the street, you will see another wooden door set in the plaster wall, in the labyrinth of narrow deserted streets. But open the door and you are greeted with bar noise and flamingo in full voice. In a large room set up with trestle tables and bench seats, you get to witness homegrown flamingo. It seems a little rough, a little raw, and often impromptu. We had expected flamingo to be a little gypsy-like, we had expected it to be quite emotive. We hadn’t expected it sound quite so … angry, quite so serious, and quite so loud. But it was very, very cool. We loved it.
We finished the day today by going to see some flamingo dancing after dinner. It was a little club that you would walk past without noticing if you weren’t looking for it. Walking down the street, you will see another wooden door set in the plaster wall, in the labyrinth of narrow deserted streets. But open the door and you are greeted with bar noise and flamingo in full voice. In a large room set up with trestle tables and bench seats, you get to witness homegrown flamingo. It seems a little rough, a little raw, and often impromptu. We had expected flamingo to be a little gypsy-like, we had expected it to be quite emotive. We hadn’t expected it sound quite so … angry, quite so serious, and quite so loud. But it was very, very cool. We loved it.
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