Like Venice’s bacari, I’d never toured the tapas bars of Seville, the home of the bite-size edible. And as an admirer of London tapas joints, the raison d’etre of the visit was simple: to find some that equalled the best we have here in our sharing plate obsessed capital.
Once you’ve conquered any tourist map-reading phobia (yes, GPS should be switched off, you’re on holiday), Seville’s narrow streets make a relaxed, cool place to wander. Barrio Santa Cruz is the ancient, and now, very touristy heart. Neighbouring Centro is all about shopping and eating with the locals in and around the Alameda de Hercules. To its north is La Macarena, a poorer district whose ancient Moorish walls are still in tact. And hop over the river Guadalquivir and you’re in arty Triana, home to the one of the most impressive modern art galleries in the world – the CAAC, housed in an ancient monastery.
First, Let’s wander
It goes without saying the city has culture in spades; feel free to queue up with thousands of other tourists patiently waiting in 40 degree sun for the Cathedral, Museo de Bellas Artes, the various palaces and Alcazar. As fans of all things Moorish, and with only 48 hours here, we chose the latter (and pretty much strolled straight in at around 3pm on a Monday afternoon). Seville was conquered by the Moors in 702, and later tribe the Almohads rebuilt the Alcazar in 1147, as well as the towering Minaret on the Cathedral. Wander through the tiled palaces, courtyards and vast ornate and simple rooms to gardens so large and dripping with bourgainvillea they justify the entrance fee alone.
Now, shopping. Calle Sierpes is an atmospheric pedestrianized narrow street stuffed with boutiques. Duck into the tiny but spectacularly ornate Baroque San Jose church: this is full-blown gilded kitsch, complete with tanned Christ with long black hair.
Sierpes bleeds into Amor de Dios, one of our favourite shopping stretches, with vintage and interiors shops and the Redhouse, which does “art and food,” its shabby chic interior filled with coffee, laptops, wine and serious-looking locals. Keep walking and you’ll come out at Alameda de Hercules, once a swamp, but converted in 16th century to become a promenade. After a more recent stint as red light district, it’s now – inevitably – a hipster destination crammed with bars and restaurants, and a vast square where locals wander, chat and kids run around, swallows swooping and diving. And just north, on Calle Peral is an ace junktique shop with lots of religious kitsch to recreate that “Sevilla” look at home.
Cultural Selection
We had such limited time in the city that we had to be selective, plumping for the CAAC over the more traditional Museo de Belles Artes. Located across the Guadalquivir, a riverside oddly like the Thames at Kingston, complete with rowers, it’s a very different part of Seville: weed-strewn ground, lovers arguing by a car, shirtless boys fishing, and an extraordinary litter-filled burnt out park peppered with shacks.
The heat intensified – 40 degrees plus – as we continued to the Contemporary Art Gallery, housed in a former monastery dating back to 1400, restored in 1992 for the EXPO as a cultural centre. It’s a memorable setting, with hundreds of artists exhibiting, from both its permanent collection as well as temporary exhibits, perfectly juxtaposing cutting edge art and medieval architecture. Artists we rated on our visit? Cristina Lucas (pictured), Francis Bacon, Al Weiwei.
Hungry? Let’s go eating and drinking around the city… See Page 2.
