It was a bit of a late start, but we were feeling fine and had designated this day for the cathedral, one of the largest and most magnificent in Spain. It is usually open on Mondays, but this was not a regular Monday, we discovered, but in fact more of the Immaculate Conception since it was the real date, and not just the fiesta. The cathedral was closed all day and we were leaving early the next morning. We were able to have a little peek in at one section, which did indeed promise that the rest would be wonderful, but we just had to accept that the exterior would be our main focus this trip.
The building is richly decorated. A tower at one end, called the Giralda, has a renaissance bell tower top which was added by the Christians to the minaret watch tower of the Muslim times.
The Archives of the Indies was open and, after we had deposited our picnic knives with security, we were allowed in. A display outlined the history of the building, which was purpose built to manage commerce with the New World after the options of the cathedral orangery and the Alcazar were outgrown. The bad news for Seville was that Cadiz would come to be chosen as the centre for all trade from the Indies, with some silting and problems with the river and some political manoeuvring resulting in a great loss of jobs and wealth, and economic depression for the area. Eventually this building became the museum of the archives. The archives must be somewhere in the vast network of rooms around the courtyard, but we were never to see more than those set out in a display about the influence of Spain on the Americas, and in particular on the United States. All around the walls there were shelves full of filing boxes, but when I examined them, there was nothing written on them to identify the files or even their positions on the shelves. Strange filing, I thought, and when we tapped one box, it had nothing in it. None of them did. I was disappointed, because even though I knew that I couldn't access the files, I was thrilled to think that they were there. I began to feel as though we were in a Dan Brown story, such as the 'Da Vinci Code'. We had been led to believe in what did not exist, at least not here. In the next chapter we would slip past the very vigilant guards and up a staircase.
It was off putting to hear bag pipe music while trying to read Spanish. I looked out into the courtyard to see the players but there was no-one. More mysteries. We were amazed to see the extent of the Spanish colonies right up into Canada, and the way that there had been a wholesale exportation of every aspect of Spanish culture to the new land. Many people had migrated to support the industries, pastoral endeavours, imposition of Christianity and reaping of resources that influenced the way these areas would develop from then on. There was no mention of the deleterious effects of colonisation that we could see. There were many documents on display, but the handwriting in another language made it such hard going for us that we had to give up. We did wonder about the factors that allow some colonies to flourish and go on to an independence that allows them to become world leaders, and why others struggle in every stage of the process and in developing after independence.
Our walk out to the train station took us to less beautiful areas where concrete blocks are cheap and easy for buildings and even for park benches. The contrast between the care and creativity in creating the parks in the centre and the garden area here was stark. We ate our lunch and contemplated the high wire fence around a children's playground where groups of youths had met for a siesta time chat and mooch. The station was new and flash and the train cheaper than the bus, but the deciding factor for us came down to the convenience of the bus time, and after we had walked to the bus station, its proximity to our hotel.
After we had bought our bus tickets, we had lunch in a deserted park, looking at a fountain and pond. We were sitting on a bench with our backs to the road, eating away when a youth approached us from my side and asked us where the Spain Square was. We told him but he didn't seem to understand and asked again, gesturing towards the wrong way. I helpfully suggested that we show him our map, and Keith turned to get it, just in time to see the accomplice reaching down to take our camera that was sitting on it. He dropped the camera, which Keith grabbed, and made off quickly, with Keith shouting abuse after him. The first youth pretended to be surprised and to have had nothing to do with it. Keith stood up and headed for him, shouting abuse at him. He had an orange and a knife in his hand, and I was concerned, not that Keith would use the knife, but that the knife could be grabbed and used against him. I was saying “You have a knife in your hand, come and sit down, let it go.” Keith was totally unaware that he had a knife in his hand, he was so angry. The youth realised his ruse was up and headed off to join his friend. It was a nasty experience, and on top of the feeling that you can't trust people was the knowledge that we had learnt nothing from our near robbery experience in Barcelona, where we had done the same thing of placed belongings on the seat beside us to be viewed and tried for by thieves. I joked that I should have been quick witted enough to take a photo as there would have been plenty of time, but there is always the risk that robbery might develop into violence if the thieves feel threatened in any way.
Clutching all our belongings tightly, we returned to Spain Square, which we had seen at night. It was certainly impressive, with a semi-circle of elaborate buildings at the back of open areas, canals with bridges and a glorious fountain. In front of the buildings there were little niches with maps of each Spanish region, information about them and a representative picture of them or their history, all done in tiles. Souvenir sellers had laid out their wares on the ground and one man was adding atmosphere by playing the castanets. Keith assured me that there were government offices in the buildings, but it looked just like an elaborate theatre set to me.
Our next search was for St Jerome's sculpture in daylight, and when we found it, we weren't sure that it was really him. We hadn't seen any angels with sticks connected to his story but that didn't mean that there weren't. It is a very interesting and beautifully sculptured piece, and its position around the tree adds to it. Just as interesting was the man bathing in a small fountain, leaving his tracksuit pants on but soaping up his back and patting at his legs through his pants. It was icy cold so he must have been freezing and desperate for a wash.
During our time in Seville we have noticed beautiful wrought iron work, and there were some fine examples in the palaces. The crosses in Plaza de Cruzes are exquisite, and against the white of the buildings in their tiny square, make you feel as if you are in another age altogether. Lots of buildings have gates that allow you a view of the beautiful tiled courtyards inside.
We checked our emails as late as possible and while my friend and colleague had written, there was no response on the official front. We set the alarm for an early start in the morning to Córdoba.
No comments:
Post a Comment