Navidad de Flamenco!

A Merry Christmas and Feliz Navidad to all of you.

We spent our holiday in the most wonderful way, day and night, and I´d like to try to share it here.

We started the day with a late breakfast of tapas and beer. 11am, sitting in a cafe next to a large park and garden, sipping cold cerveza and taking turns on a cold salad of squid and prawns and vegetables a la escabeche. Strange and wonderful it was, and an early indication of the different sort of day we'd have.

We wandered the streets of the old city after this breakfast, still a bit hungry and wondering what we'd find open on the holiday. We would not be disappointed. There were a number of tapas bars open, and we took turns stopping in one after the next, sampling small plates of food as the morning turned to afternoon. After a brief time in the square behind the main cathedral, sitting and listening to a couple play guitar and violin, we decided to bite the bullet and part with a whopping 30 euros to take a horse-carriage ride around the city. I was skeptical (no shock to most of you, I´m sure), but it was a wonderful experience, huddling together in the cushy seat as our guide announced all the important structures of the various plazas around town. There were lots of people walking around and smiling, and the clip-clop of hooves and the sights and sounds of the city from our springy perch put us in the most festive of moods. It was quite romantic and beautiful, I admit, much to my pleasure.

After our ride, we had--surprise surprise--more tapas, stopping off one more time on the way back to our room for an afternoon nap. We were awakened 2 hours later by a phone call from Texas--'Hola?' I said. 'Hola d--khead!' came the answer from the other end. My brother Eric in his traditional holiday greeting, and I have to say it felt good to hear it. We talked at length (this 10-10-987 thing is a miracle, talking across the Atlantic for a measly 3 cents a minute), and the phone was passed from he to Mom to Dad, and then, truly, it felt like Christmas, imagining the slow unwrapping of presents and the cup after cup of coffee and the breakfast and the whole ritual that we were missing this year. After that, Cathy's mom called from Kansas City, and she got to talk to her as well as her cousin Matt (Congrats on the new baby! What a holiday gift!), and she too felt a warm glow that can only come from touching base with home on a day like this.

So then, fully grounded, we left our room and headed out into the evening. A stop at a tapas joint where we had a wonderfully broken conversation with two friendly older Spanish ladies who kept offering their food to Cathy (she did look hungry) led to more wandering and more beer and food and, eventually, we poked our heads into an unsigned doorway where we suspected something special inside. And indeed it was. La Carboneria, a converted coal-yard and one of the foremost flamenco haunts in this city lurked behind the wall, and it was an experience of a lifetime.

We entered into a small bar room with a piano at one end and lines of tables with small scattered enclaves around. The music was mellow, the inhabitants scattered, but it was early yet--only 10:30. Further investigation led us to a large back room, like a warehouse without the high ceiling, with rows and rows of low tables, a long bar, and at the far end, a foot high stage with four empty wooden chairs backed against the wall. We assumed a position at a table stage-right with the clearest angle for photos we could find, secured a large pitcher of sangria, and prepared for the show. One guitarrist, two men in normal clothes (stylish, of course), and a lone female in full flamenco regalia took the stage. No microphones or amps, not even a set of castanets, but the noise and the movement and the entire show proved absolutely wonderful. The dancer controlled the room, silencing the crowd with a single squinty glance, and as she twirled and shouted and waved her arms and stomped her feet, the guitarrist strummed for all he was worth, and the two men kept up a set of songs, seemingly improvised line after line, one after the other. The whole show continued in this vein, not so much a set of songs as a continual interplay, a musical and physical conversation between them, the crowd shouting 'Ole!' when it seemed appropriate, clapping like mad at any break. It was just fantastic.

We sat through the whole show, two sets worth, before adjourning to the other room for a last beer by the fireplace. In there, the piano was in demand, one player after another taking his turn at the bench and doing his best to get the crowd behind him. In a far corner a young Spanish guy was playing guitar and singing and clapping with a few friends, and all he asked in return was a constant supply of beer and cigarettes. We obliged some and spent the remainder of the evening in this corner, meeting people and trying to communicate (with much success, really--music and wine and beer loosen tongues and make friends fast), having the time of our lives. Somehow I kept Cathy out until 4 in the morning, and neither of us regretted sleeping the morning away as a result.

We're trying to figure out a way to spend the remainder of our time here in Sevilla, though we have to fly home from Lisbon. It'll take some doing, and probably one very very long day of traveling come Wednesday, but such is the appeal of this place.

So, again, happy holidays to everyone. The trip is winding down, we'll be home soon, but I hope for more experiences to record here before we leave.

And one further note: For you who are interested, please check back to this site in another week or two, as after we get home I plan to overhaul the journal aspects, filling in the inevitable blanks, and adding a whole mess of photographs to make the experience more complete. Cathy´s getting some amazing shots here, and I can´t wait to put it all together.