As we drove south from Caceres into Andalusia we noticed the villages change from warm sandstone brown to the whitewashed houses typical to this part of Spain. Seville, the capital of Andalusia, was to be our first stop in what will be a long stay in this part of Spain.
Our campsite was 15km outside of Seville in Dos Hermanas, a city in its own right connected to Seville by urban sprawl. We had arrived late afternoon and took a walk through Dos Hermanas. The houses had a familiar feel, perhaps from our exposure to similar houses on TV programmes like a Place in the Sun. It was warmer too. The winter bite of Caceres had gone, and the sun had strength to it. Andrew was excited to see orange trees laden with fruit lining the town square and urged me to take photos. We laughed the next day when we saw just how many orange trees line the streets of Seville, and every Andalusian town after.
The next morning, we caught the bus to Seville. Our immediate impression was of a city dipped in sunshine and a somewhat Californian feel, with wide open boulevards, lots of oranges and palm trees. However, it’s more that California has an Andalusian feel as this was where the discovery of the Americas was launched from and where the resulting trade route was centred.
Andalusia was ruled by the Moors from the 8th – 15th centuries and Moorish influence is everywhere – 800 years of occupation is a long time. Most famous is the beautiful Royal Alcazar of Seville. This is the Moorish palace in the heart of Seville that is considered to be one of the most outstanding examples of mudejar art that exists today. The upper levels of the palace are still used by the Royal family but the historic Moorish heart of the Alcazar is UNESCO listed and is open for the public to enjoy. The exquisite mosaics, geometric patterns, ornate horseshoe arches, and elaborate arabesque decoration make this building very special. Courtyards with serene pools seamlessly connect the interior to the outdoors in typical Islamic fashion – the Moors were masters of indoor outdoor flow. Extensive gardens surround the palace filled with water features, gazebos, and of course plenty of those oranges.
From the Alcazar it was a short walk to the cathedral – the largest Gothic cathedral, and third-largest church in the world. Built on the site of the original mosque it is a sprawling complex that took more than a century to complete. Extravagantly ornate both inside and out, this beautiful building stamps its mark on the city. Inside, the tomb of great explorer Christopher Columbus reminds you of the reach and influence of Spanish culture.
The Alcazar and Cathedral are next the upmarket Santa Cruz shopping precinct. After we had explored these vastly different historic sites we wandered through the narrow pedestrian-only streets, all decked out in their Christmas finery, and found a quaint comedor perfect for a cheap lunch of cocidos, traditional Spanish stew.
With full bellies we wandered down to the river Guadalquivir and across the Triana Bridge past the Chapel of El Carme. Built in the 20’s in Moorish revivalist style this small chapel was once threatened with destruction and is an iconic landmark in the colourful suburb of Triana. Triana was traditionally the Gypsy quarter with a large Romani population. It prides itself on being a hub for flamenco and bullfighting, and there are plenty of shops selling traditional Spanish outfits. We walked past the many tapas bars overflowing with locals enjoying their mid-afternoon bebidas, along the river and then back across to La Torre del Oro, the Gold Tower. Originally built by the Moors it was later added to by Pedro I and is now home to the Naval Museum with some impressive models of Spanish Galleons. There was not a cloud in the sky and from the top of the 36-metre tower the view was beautiful. We looked across to the nearby bullring, over to the cathedral, then back along the turquoise Guadalquivir River to the Maria Luisa Park, a lush green oasis where the Plaza Espana sits within.
As we walked towards the Plaza Espana we passed more orange trees. Andrew was concerned as to why the fruit isn’t picked and used. I suggested they are ornamental only, but he was determined to find out if they were edible and picked one off the ground. They taste just like marmalade – which is what Seville oranges are famous for. I later read they are also a good appetite suppressant.
The Plaza Espana was to be our final stop for the day. This huge red palace-like building was built in 1928 using a mixture of Spanish architectural styles to create a clash of Moorish and Renaissance with a splash of Art Deco. Semi-circular in shape it sits behind a lake of the same shape crossed by arched bridges adorned with blue and white tiled railings. At the base of the building are 48 tiled alcoves with mosaic pictures, each depicting a province of Spain. When we arrived the Plaza Espana was bathed in warm afternoon sun and the alcoves were full of people sitting enjoying the weather. We spent a good hour or so wandering around the building, admiring the mosaics, and sitting in the sunshine, before heading back through the park to find our bus home.
Seville is alluring. Even though we there in winter the sun had an intensity to it and the city reflected this, confident in its golden glow and natural magnetism. This was, after all, home to the legendary Don Juan, who conquered the hearts of women across Europe.
The capital of Andalusia had impressed us, now to see what the smaller cities were like. Our next stop was Jerez de la Frontera, usually just called Jerez and only an hour and a quarter down the road from Seville. I had found a unique place to camp in Jerez searching online. It was a campervan sale-yard that allowed for half a dozen campervans to park overnight. There was electricity, Wi-Fi, toilets and showers, and to top it off we were welcomed by a very enthusiastic woman who went out of her way to tell us all about her beloved Jerez – the best places to go, what to see, where to eat, and where to experience zambombas, their famous Christmas street music. Once she’d planed the next 12 hours for us she poured us a sherry, because Jerez is the home of Sherry so why not. It was the first time we’d had a sherry at 10am.
We headed off on our bikes into Jerez and were greeted by a lively town filled with crowds of Christmas shoppers and families enjoying a day out. Jerez has a very aristocratic air, with a charming old town and beautiful palm-lined squares. The town dates back to Moorish times and I was keen to visit the Alcazar de Jerez, a Moorish fortress founded in the 11th century. I promised Andrew we wouldn’t be going to a Moorish fortress in every town, but this one was particularly significant and after our visit he agreed it had been worthwhile. It was beautifully restored with old towers and fortifications, and an ancient mosque in excellent condition. Next to the fortress is the Tio Pepe Bodega, one of the world’s most famous sherry brands. We admired it from the outside as we’d only recently visited the Port cellars in Porto and didn’t feel the need to see sherry being made as well – a photo op with the giant Tio Pepe bottle dressed in its famous short red jacket and hat was enough for us.
Back in the bustling town we found a place to have lunch and celebrate six months on the road. A table under a heater in a small plaza, a continuous flow of tapas, a bottle of red wine, and a steady stream of people to watch was a perfect way to spend a winter’s afternoon.
Jerez is famous for Flamenco music and dance and at Christmas time, zambombas. Every December, in the run up to Christmas, zambombas can be heard accompanying carols in streets and bars. A zambomba is an ancient instrument made from a large clay jar with an animal skin fixed tightly to the top, like a drum, but a long stick has been pushed through the skin, and on moving it up and down, it gives off a distinct sound. It is an old tradition in Andalucía, dating back to the 18th century at least, where leading up to Christmas Eve people join in with the singing and sometimes dancing with a slightly flamenco edge. As we were finishing lunch we could hear the zambombas starting up nearby and once we were done we walked towards the music. In the square a group of musicians were sitting around an open fire playing and singing. Surrounding them was a crowd of people of all ages, clapping along and joining in with the songs. Every so often someone would get up and dance in the circle, strutting their stuff in Flamenco style, and everyone would cheer them on. It was a terrific atmosphere; people were happy and festive, their mood possibly enhanced by the sherry they were all enjoying.
At 6pm the Christmas lights came on and the buzzing town of Jerez was sparkling. As we walked back to our bikes we found the most beautiful life-size nativity scene, lit up in all its glory. Christmas in Spain continues to impress.
The next day we were off again towards the very bottom of Spain, but not before spending the morning in Cadiz, which is only half an hour from Jerez. Cadiz is an ancient port city built on a strip of land surrounded by the sea. Settled by the Phoenicians around 1100 BC, it is the oldest city in western civilisation. The home of the Spanish Navy, the port boomed in the 16th-century as a base for exploration and trade, and was the launching point for the adventures of Christopher Columbus in the New World.
There are only two roads to Cadiz, one is a bridge and the other is along the thin strip of land that connects the point to the mainland. Because of the small area, every bit of land is built on and parking is a premium. Luckily the woman at our campground in Jerez had told us where to park as we would have struggled to fit in regular parking areas. After navigating the narrow roads, we found the parking lot and headed off on foot into the city. Despite the sweeping beaches, bleach-white buildings and palm-lined promenades conjuring up feelings of endless summer, we couldn’t escape the fact that it was bitterly cold with a biting wind.
It is an elegant old town with an imposing gold-topped cathedral, cobbled pedestrian streets, whitewashed town houses trimmed in sunshine yellow or blue, and majestic squares with grand statues. But it feels like it has seen better days, it’s glamourous past long gone. Being a very compact town, only 2km long and 1.8km across at its widest point, it only took us a couple of hours to explore and we were back on the road not long after midday.
Our destination was La Linea de la Concepcion, the Spanish town bordering Gibraltar. After leaving Cadiz we hugged the coastline and wound our way down to the southernmost point of mainland Europe, the small beachside town of Tarifa. The cold of Cadiz was left far behind and the town was teeming with people enjoying the winter sunshine. It was impossible to find a park, so Andrew had to keep circling while I ran down the beach for a photo. In six months on the road we had travelled to the far north of Europe in Norway and now to southernmost point of Europe in Spain. And from the beach I could see Africa.
Thanks guys for a wonderful 6 months travelling Europe
Was with you every step of the way
Living vicariously through you
An inspiration
Be aware 2018 our paths may cross on foreign soil. Enjoy 2018
Brownie xx
Wonderful part of the world depicted with beautiful photos and descriptions Louise. It is a place I am really keen to visit! Have a safe and happy New Year and keep up the great writings. We are living the dream with you! Xx