It has been a frustrating morning. Whenever Manuel says something to Mike I need Mike to translate, but Mike, who doesn’t like to talk at the best of times, hates translating and thinks I should learn Spanish. Perhaps, but I still don’t know what is going on. He won’t answer my questions or gives smart answers that tell me nothing.
Manuel is offering us a ride downtown after feeding us a continental breakfast. This much I know. He drops us off near the river front and we immediately walk to the Tourist Office. We pick up maps and leave a note for Nick to meet us at the cathedral at 1 pm. Then we separate, as Mike says he wants to see different things than I do. It would be a waste of time to ask him why. Maybe it’s his way in saying he wants space from me, but I need space from him too so I accept it as a blessing.
I head for the Alcazar and the massive cathedral set a short distance in from the river. The twins sites across from each other, were declare World Heritage Sites just four years ago. The Alcazar was built by the Moors in the mid-1300s. The stonework screens and architecture are magnificent. The lowest level houses the baths, a rain water reservoir that reflects the wonderful arches about it.
The Cathedral of Saint Mary of Se, begun in 1402 and finished more than a century later, is massive. The brochure says it’s the third largest church in the world, and the largest Gothic one. The workers who built it gave half their salaries to pay for the materials and salaries of the architects and church hierarchy. Lucky for the rich who were spared the costs. It is very impressive and belittling inside.
Mike shows up at the cathedral at 1, but Nick does not appear. We assume he has left early for Grenada or Cordoba. Mike and I are doing so well on our own that we separate again. Mike decides to tell me before he leaves that Manuel will pick us up again at 8:30 at the Torre de Oro again.
I head back to the Tourist Office to get help finding streets listed in the Spartacus Guide. Although it is Wednesday, it has been three weeks since I have been in any gay-aware space and I feel a need to meet other gays, ones unlike Mike who might actually talk to me. Calle Serpias has three establishments listed on it, but when I get there it turns out to be a glitzy commercial mall and there was no one I could see cruising on it.
I go instead to the Nordic Baths on Calle Resolana. It is very interesting. In European sauna style, the towel, a long body wrap like a sarong and a pair of sandals are waiting for me in my rented locker. A locker costs 1000 pesados, about equivalent to what it would cost in Canada. I check the place out. Besides the mandatory shower and toilet areas, there is a pitch-black “steam” room, with very little steam, and a double dry sauna area. The latter proved to be the most popular, but not much sex was going on there.
I meet a 30-ish fellow named Virgilio, who speaks very good English. He takes me to another area that I have not explored yet. The halls are barely lit. Here there are several convenience rooms are available for locker users with bead curtains substituted for doors. We choose an empty one and make out there. Afterwards, we share a beer at the in-house bar. Then I leave with him to have a coffee.
He leads me south towards the city centre to get to his favourite café, but our way is confounded by more Semana Santa processions, with their many different ‘virgins’ tarted up like Indian goddesses. He explains there are several processions of “The Virgin” each proceeded by long lines of bare-footed ‘hermanos’ (brothers), or ‘cone heads’, as Mike and I prefer to call them. The processions follow different streets and converge at the cathedral. Festival goers spend the evening hopping from one procession (or Virgin) to the next. It is a good, detailed description of what is going on. I am glad to hear it but it doesn’t really increase my interest in the festival much. As Virgilio says, once you have seen one Semana Santa, you have seen them all.
As the time grows near to meet Manuel and Mike at the Torre de Oro I say my goodbyes to Virgilio and hurry to get there on time. My route is blocked by another procession. I try to find the end of it but it proves to be too long and, as usual, creeping at a snail’s pace. I try to race ahead to the cathedral to get ahead of it, but that way is blocked by crowds of spectators. Finally, I wait like one of them along the route and when the guards are looking the other way I dart across to the other side.
It is still a maze of crowded streets and my stomach is in knots trying to get through. It’s 9:00pm when I reach the tower. I’m half an hour late. Mike and Manuel manage to find me eventually, which is a great relief. Manuel leads over the Triana Bridge to find a place where we can have a beer and tapas. I realize only then that I haven’t had anything to eat since early afternoon. Mike has bad news. We had planned to exchange money at a bank tomorrow morning but during Semana Santa they close Wednesday at noon and stay closed until Monday, except for a brief period Saturday morning. Mike has only 2000 pesados and I have only 700 left after my visit to the sauna. The post office is closed until Monday too, which means I won’t be able to get any of my “Poste Restante” mail. He plans to look for a bank machine tomorrow morning and if that fails the train stations will apparently cash travelers cheques.
We cross back over the bridge and stop for ‘churrios’, long deep-fried rolls of doughnut dough that are served with a cup of chocolate sauce for dipping. They are delicious. Then Manuel drives us back to his home.
PHOTO 1: portal framing the cathedral
PHOTO 2: Cathedral of Saint Mary of Se
PHOTO 3: stained glass window in St Mary's
PHOTO 4: reflection of Alcazar
PHOTO 5: wall of the Gardens of Alcazar
PHOTO 6: inner court of Alcazar
PHOTO 7: more of the inner court
PHOTO 8: part of the Alcazar
PHOTO 9: Alcazar baths on lowest level
PHOTO 10: in the Alcazar gardens
PHOTO 11: Triana Bridge
PHOTO 12: little "hermanos"
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