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There are blue skies on the horizon this morning as we look out the window and it instantly picks up our moods. We have another brief visit in to Tarifa to see the beach while it’s sunny then head onto Seville. There is another huge black cloud over the sea to Morrocco which is heading our way but fingers crossed we manage to outdrive it. I decide to take a turn at driving today and surprisingly manage to remain calm when we get lost coming into Seville whereas Greg is stressing out huffing and puffing, effing and a jeffing. As usual we manage to stumble upon the hotel- who needs directions when Charlie has some sort of homing device built in? Maybe we should rename him Herbie. Our hotel room is awesome, a lifetime away from our hostel in Granada, and once we've settled in, we take the bus into town. It’s a 30 minute crowded ride snuggling up next to Mr looky looky who stinks, but I feel more sorry for the women sitting down in front of him who has his crotch right in her face. Strangely though she doesn't seem to mind or maybe Spanish people are used
to travelling like this.
We're starving by the time we get into the centre, but as per usual, we end up having a fight trying to decide where to eat and walk round in circles. In the end we opt for a tapas bar right in the centre of town which probably costs double everywhere else does. There is an English couple next to us and while we order in Spanish they obviously don't speak the lingo as I notice when the woman customer asks for some butter, the waitress repeats back to her "mantequila"? (which is indeed butter in spanish). The english women repeats back to her "buuu-tteeer" in a louder voice like she is special. I can tell the waitress isn't amused and takes her mood out on us. Needless to say she didn't receive a tip. Seville is a mixture of historical buildings, shopping quarters, a refurbished river front and business district which is a good mix and gives the place a vibrant and diverse feel.
After walking around the equivelant distance of a marathon, we stop off for a beer and a spanish guy at the next table takes a shine to us. He
ends up giving us some directions to the best place to go and watch some flamenco dancing, he’s so insistent we think he must have shares in the place. We are all a bit tapas'd out at the moment and although it would be nice to go watch flamenco, we head to a Mexican restaurant instead which we've seen advertised around town. I have my usual favourite dish of fajitas while Greg has enchiladas. The food is ok, but you can tell it’s not hand made and nothing special to write home about. Still it does the job. We had back to the main square and catch the bus back to the hotel. It's a lot quicker on the way back as it’s practically empty and we actually get a seat. The bus stop is right outside the hotel so after a short walk we are back in our hotel room and finish the night off by watching Masterchef on the tv in Spanish. We manage to work out most of what is happening, but then anything to do with food is easier to work out seeing as we're such pros ourselves 😉
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