Drink-ing root-beer in SEVILLE (sing that in your head)

I got to do that dash-down-into-the-metro-and-stick-your-arm-into-the-train-to-stop-the-doors-from-closing thing this weekend. I had a plane to catch. I always laugh at the people who force their way onto the train then look like they just won a gold medal. But I did feel surprisingly accomplished after I caught that sucker, Kentucky Derby if not gold medal.

This weekend was the program trip to Seville. After the train to terminal 1 and the bus from terminal 1 to 2, I rolled up to security check and felt kinda tingly. Last time I had been in that airport was two months ago. I remembered how nervous and damn confused I was when I got to the airport. I remembered how I had to buy a bag of Mars bars with a benjamin in order to get my change back in euros because none the banks were open on New Year’s to change my money.

Well, this airport visit was different. I had euros, a chorizo sandwich, and a new coat.

I’ve learned that Vueling issues very little space to they’re passengers, which is important to know if you’re not as petite as me.
Seville gets down. We went on a tour of the Seville Catedral right when we got there. It used to be a mosque, and then the Catholics took over and turned it into a church.

Then we ate some tapas which is supposed to be so tasty in Sevilla. The best thing I had was fried eggplant with honey. I tried some unusual stuff like quail eggs, bull tail, blood rice, and dog fish. All tasty.

That night, we watched Flamenco dancing. Bueno. The woman danced, then the man danced, then they danced together. There was also a singing solo and a guitar solo. The best part was, when the dude was dancing, the singer kept yelling at him to do more stuff. Then the dancer kept telling the singer to change the song. They were laughing and giving each other a hard time and it was entertaining.

Saturday, we went to the city of Cordoba. They have the Mezquita, a huge mosque with a church inside. I guess its top twenty five on the top 1000 things to see before you die.

The tour guide told us that, back in the day, Muslims were good at building, Jewish people were good with precious metals, and Christians were good at conquering. So they all had to work together to make a church. Think about that.

The night time was the right time to go out for most people. We didn’t have anything to do early the next morning so most people planned to 1) botellon, or drink and hang out down by the river where hundreds of people go every night, and then 2) go to some Buddha club or something.

I planned to drink a little down by the river then go back to the room and read some Maya Angelou. We went to the the nearest grocery store, a little Russian tienda down the street.

Turns out, I bought a big bottle of Russian root beer instead of beer. This is good because I was really jonesin’ for some root beer. No joke. Also, it rained; therefore, no one was at the botellon except for Americans desperate to botellon. I quickly bounced. Root beer and reading, it was a memorable night.

The next day, we went to the Alcazar, the palace in Sevilla. (Sevilla has palaces and churches and business because it’s location was ideal for trading with the Americas. So it got exclusive Spanish trading rights. It made bank.) I wouldn’t want to live in the palace. It’s not close enough to the metro.

Sevilla is beautiful and peaceful. I would go there again.