I've been in the sky and on the road again, and this time the road lead me across the Guadiana International Bridge, into Spain from Portugal. The heat was southern and the sun strong when it showed itself, a major change from the chill back in Istanbul— wooly sweaters and socks are currently a necessity in my apartment. On the second day on the other side, we drove to Sevilla.
My curiosity about Andalucía began in college, when I took a course on the Islamic art and architecture of Medieval Spain. Once upon a time, I had booked one of the trips of my art-nerdy dreams, only to have it foiled by a certain volcano in Iceland. I had planned to explore Barcelona and make my way to Granada to see the Alhambra, then if time allowed, the Great Mosque of Córdoba— but Eyjafjallajökull sent me to Athens instead.
So at last I found myself wandering the streets of Sevilla, the capital of Andalucía, searching for Moorish touches in a Catholic city. There was a spectrum of yellows, red accents, Arabian arches, intricate iron work— and surprisingly quite a number of Turkish tourists. The sun was relentless, but it cast long shadows.
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