Street Party in Seville

By some miracle, my Spanish friend and I found each other. I happened to walk out the right door at the right time...

It was wonderful to throw my stuff in the back and climb into her car. We spoke French (we met in my language class in Paris), because she wanted to practice, and it felt natural for me because we only spoke French together in Paris.

We parked her car, and walked by a beautiful old building that is now a university, through beautiful gardens with palm trees, tiled walkways, and fountains. Seville is incredibly beautiful. There are old buildings, iron streetlamps, and an enormous stone cathedral. It was Spain as I imagined it, heard about, but had never seen. She must have been amused by my awe at everything. I truly felt like I was in Spain, but that it could not possibly be that incredible.

We stopped at a bar for something to drink, and so that I could change. We walked along the river, to another part of Seville, because the neighborhood was having a party.

Her friends are energetic, shout in Spanish, laugh, and tease each other. It was a crowd of people. They were kind to me, even though they did not speak a lot of English; I loved simply listening to them talk, and looking at all of the people around me. The street was lined with stall selling drinks and food. I drank a mixture of wine and orange juice or lemon (do not tell the French), beer, and something else I am not sure of. And had falafel.

My friend´s boyfriend told me about a sense of street culture in Spain, a tendency to be outside. I could definitely see it.

About 1 a.m. the alcohol hit me, and I remembered that I only had two hours of sleep or so, and had walked all over Barcelona. I could barely function...

Collapsed into bed back at my friend´s place.