Finding Spain

For those of you who follow me on Instagram you already know how blown away I was by Southern Spain. It had everything I imagined about Spain that Barcelona had failed to deliver on. 

Strolling down the narrow streets of warm colored buildings, with the hot sun gracing my skin as I emerged from the shadows, was like a daydream. 

The rays of sunshine gleamed off the water and off in the distance the Torre del Oro stood as a gauard from another era. 

I'm unsure if it was being on my own again, forging out independent into the world, or if it was Sevilla itself, but for some reason, the South of Spain was the first place I visited that really conveyed a sense of foreignness to me.  

Sevilla (Seville) is the capital of Andalusia, an autonomous community of Spain, proud of its identity and rich heritage. From the depths of its history, controlled by both the Moors and the Christians intermittently, to its vibrant culture today, evidence of the triumphs of Sevilla are prevalent throughout the city. 

The Fuente Generación del 27 was one of the first pieces of magnificence that I saw as I wandered the sun-drenched walkways. This simplistic and somehow sultry fountain is dedicated to a group of avant-garde poets from the 1920s.  

Often when I visited plazas in Europe I felt a bit as if I was in Disneyland or Universal Studios, playing make believe. However, as I circled the calm grandiose Fuente de Puerta de Jerez, for once I felt as if I was actually in a another country. It was as if the great vivacious spirt of Spain arose around me and allowed all the fantastical things I had seen so far to finally begin to sink in, and I was in total awe.     

With a sense of wonderment coursing through me, I headed in the direction of the biggest thing on my map, grinning all the while. It is no wonder, that by the time I was passing beneath these fine gentleman, I nearly set myself off into a fit of giggles. 

Really, have you ever seen statues in better form? Whomever the sculpture of these chaps is, I hope wherever he is (likely lying in a grave) that he knows I absolutely adore his cleverness. 

I was on my way to the famous Plaza de España, but curious thing I am, dashing figures atop goverment buildings were not the only thing to distract me; Sevilla had to many beautiful wonderfuls to offer. I was so close, when the Lope de Vega Theatre caught my attention with a free exhibit. 

The exhibit focused upon the heritage of Sevilla and presented the loveliest photos. There were also, surely well written, descriptions nearby to these captured moments; I think I got a pretty good gist of what they said, but being in Spanish, I could have mistranslated entire paragraphs for all I know. Good thing a picture is worth a thousand words. 

Leaving the Theatre, I popped across the street and plunged right into the Parque de María Luisa, at which point I was ever too tempted by lush grass and shady trees. I thought it best to take a blissful moment to relax in the new country I had found (I may have been in Barcelona prior for 5 days, but it was not the same Spain). 

I lied on my back and looked at the sky through the leafed trees. Thoughts swirled in my mind, about nothing and everything. It was one of those gloriously simple moments, where you can just appreciate everything in life, and feel that you are not living your life in the past, you are not concerned with the future, it is just you and the universe, wholly present. 

Afte who knows how much time in reverie I departed my shadowed oasis to go explore the Plaza, but I'll leave you (and myself) back in that relaxed state for now. Close your eyes and find your bliss. Is it lying on the grass in Spain watching the clouds? Is it swimming out in the ocean, feeling the cold water envelope your body? Is it a cathartic five mile run, where all your thoughts have left you, and you are only left with the thrum of your feet against pavement? 

Whatever it is, find it, and go there. 

Yours, Kenna