The road out of Sevilla
It is normally the kiss of death to say that a journey is going smoothly, as I did when looking at a whole region full of olive trees out of the train window. We took an early morning taxi to Liverpool airport, Ryanair to Malaga, a suburban train and then a “medio distance” train across olive stuffed Andalusia to Sevilla. Finally a walk across Sevilla to the hostel. It all went very smoothly indeed. Sevilla seems to be stuffed full of glorious old buildings and young people. Our experience of Sevilla seemed at odds with the terrible youth unemployment statistics. There were art schools, music schools and enormous public and religious buildings. The food was also great. Ellen thought Sevilla had all the attractions of Florence but without the deathly crush of tourists.
This morning we ventured into the Cathedral. It was as if somebody had joined four or five cathedrals together and then knocked down the walls. There were altars and chapels everywhere. The guard stamped our pilgrims credentials and I watched a mass and allowed myself a little holy moment, while Ellen explored.
After a great breakfast we walked for about 5 hours. Fairly typical outer urban stuff, slowly giving way to a beautiful parched Andalusian landscape. The only impression of note was that it was cool, windy, grey and occasionally damp. Ring any bells.
Tonight we are in a private hostel with bottom bunks with old Italian and French men for company. I do mean old. I'm looking out at a “papelleria” with a queue stretching down the street. They really like their paper in this town.
Buen Camino along your own way.