The move from Morocco back to the other side of the Med was quite easy as we are travelling light this trip. Encumbered more by technology than underwear. Touched down in Malaga for a couple of days. In a strange town, why is it that I am always attracted first to the Cathedral/Mosque/whatever? From the perspective of a bloke, it is probably fascination at the technical challenges, rather than being overwhelmed by the spiritual element or Stendhalismo at the beauty of the art-work. Sweetiepie thinks that better use could have been made of resources if more attention had been given to health, education and welfare of the poor and less to the grand architecture. But then, if they had been better educated, they mightn’t have been so inclined to spend lifetimes chipping and stacking stones. And we wouldn’t have anything to remember them by.

The “My religion is better than your religion” belief is likely to be a major driving force in the Cathedral thing. Clearly the reason for the Christians to build Cathedrals on the foundations of destroyed Mosques in Malaga, Seville and elsewhere. Overwhelmed by the glittering baroque Malaga cathedral with its towering twin organs, there seemed to be little point in looking at any others. And then we arrived in Seville, home to the largest cathedral in the world, by volume enclosed. We were not the only tourists to go gawping, open mouthed and wide eyed – there were a four days worth of people waiting in line for tickets. Well worth the wait. Particularly remarkable is the altar piece of the high altar. The life’s work of one craftsman, Pierre Dancart. In beginning the work, how could he have known that he would live to finish it? The part that you see in the pic below is less than half of the total work.

When the Christians took over from the Moors, they kept the orangery and converted the Giraldo minaret to a bell tower, adding an extra spire for good measure. A series of 36 ramps up which a horse could be ridden gave access to the bell platform. With 24 bells, now electrically operated, and informed that the bell ringing would take place in ten minutes, we prepared to visually and aurally record the event. On schedule a singular bell rang. Once. Ding – just like that. The accompanying video records the ding and a view of some of the bells.

Although the Cathedral is the grandest symphony in Spanish gothic, it is still a work in progress. Teams of restoration workers strive with only partial success to hold at bay the effects of corrosion, erosion and decay. The ornate carving of the lofty vaulted ceiling may continue one day.

Lounging about over a tapas lunch on the square, entertained by the passing parade. Beautiful top-hatted people in high stepping horse drawn carriages. The music passed from right to left. A circle of brightly clad pretty young girls moving and grooving ahead of the energetic brass and percussion guys. Noticed Verdejo on the wine list. A glass each (copa) to see how it compares with Aussie Verdelho. Fruity, full bodied and agreeable. Perhaps not unlike the dancing girls. Another of glass each just to be sure. A Google check on the similarity of Verdejo and Verdelho reveals that two growers in Oz are now producing Verdejo and it is unrelated to Verdelho. Also totally different from Verdelho and each other are Verdejo Serrano, Verdejo de Salamanca, Verdea, Verdeca, not to mention Verdicchio and its variants. Godello is a Portuguese synonym for Verdelho but is actually quite a different grape. And it is said that the Spaniards don’t particularly like white wine. No donkeys in the narrow streets of old Seville, but it is true that cars sometimes have to fold in their wing mirrors.

Around the corner from our apartment in the Macarena we shop at Carrefour for the essentials. On the first day serrano ham was on special at €1.50 the pack. And very nice it was. No special ham on the next visit, so the jolly Señor on the deli counter offered an alternative. Sweetiepie who is the careful member of the partnership said “The ham was a bit expensive” and did a bit of ham research on google. Turns out that the Spaniards are fussy about their ham. Basic ham is called Serrano. Choice ham is called something that means black leg. Their best ham is from pigs that are free to roam the forest. The absolute top of the heap is Bellota ham, the pigs are fed only acorns. Yep, this is what I scored. 150gm for €10.50 – that works out to about $100 per kilo. If you like ham, seek out the Belloto variety, your effort will be rewarded. We improvised by laying morsels of the Belloto on a bed of very thinly sliced baguette smeared with cream cheese. Our personal take on Tapas.

La Esperanza or the Virgin of Hope of Macarena is a 17th century wooden image of the Blessed Virgin Mary currently enshrined in the high altar of the Basilica of Macarena. She is designated as the official patroness of the people of Seville, most notably bullfighters. Her popularity is highlighted in the five rose-emerald brooches attached to her dress, given by the famed bullfighter José Gómez Ortega early in the 20^th century. Can’t help wondering if it is really appropriate for a pious virgin to be dressed in such a glittering frock? In keeping with the passion of the city for the sport, after Ortega was gored to death in the bullring at age of only 25, La Esperanza was clad all in black during his funeral, a tribute which has never been repeated in Spanish history.

“My kingdom is better than your kingdom” is the sort of one-up-manship that leads to the building of über palaces to impress the privileged visitors. King Peter I or Pedro I, had a checkered career as a monarch of Spain in the 14^th century, but chose to leave as his legacy impressive decorative work on the royal palace in Seville. An early multiculturalist, he employed a Jewish finance minister, and decorated the palace in a mélange of Islamic and Christian influences. In his changing allegiances, he was variously labeled Peter the Cruel or Peter the Just, according to opinion. The royal palace and surrounding gardens are indeed very grand.

If the movies are to be believed, the Spanish pirates were swaggering, roguish, stylish, flamboyant fellows. Flamenco artists carry on the tradition with gypsy flavour. Very lively top class flamenco at the Baile Flamenco museum. Dancing, guitar, percussion, the costumes of course, and led by the cantor. This art is totally not a threatened species. It is everywhere about town. Happens that we arrived in town just before the time of the Feria. This is a fiesta where the whole town has a good time for a few days. Many, many women wear the traditional flamenco dress. Body hugging Lycra down to the mid thighs. Springing from there to layers of flounces. The town arrives at the venue in rows of horse-drawn carriages. Sometimes a humble nag with a simple cart carrying ordinary people. Sometimes an ornate polished black carriage drawn by as many as six high stepping Arab greys. Immaculate top hatted coachman and assistant, and in the coach the stylish modern-day pirates are dressed in their finest, often sipping champagne.

For the rest of the year the venue is an extremely big car park. A grid of about 5 streets by 8 streets. The venue comprises over a thousand marquees of various sizes. Food and wine is served – the preferred beverage is thought to be a mixture of sherry and 7up. Food is Tapas. There is loud recorded flamenco music and it is clear that many people have had flamenco dancing lessons. Seems that there is high flamenco as well as folk flamenco.