Crepe Myrtle? Go Ask Alice.

Jerry's mother's name was Alice.  She's been gone since 1999 but she lives on in every single experience we have.  If I am limited to only one word to describe what Alice meant to me, that word would be "joy."

NORWAY 1998.
I ONCE SAID I LEARNED HOW TO APPRECIATE LIFE THE DAY I MET ALICE.

Ever since we began planning our move to Sevilla, we have often commented on how excited (and nervous) this entire adventure would make Alice and how supportive and happy she would be for us.  A sighting last week of a flowering tree in Sevilla gave me another reason to smile and feel Alice's presence.

Alice visited us everywhere we lived. We took vacations together a few times over the years and even took her back to Norway in 1998 to see the country her parents had emigrated from.  But this post is not about the return to Norway (which was magical), this is simply a story about flowering trees.  And the story began for us in Washington, D.C. in 1984.

It was Alice's first trip to see us in Washington, D.C., and her first visit to the capital.  We decided to take a drive (about 3 hours south) to Williamsburg, Virginia.  As we drove out of town, Alice noticed a beautiful, small tree covered in pink flowers.

"What's that tree?" she asked.

We had no idea.

We headed down to Williamsburg, checked into our hotel, and began our walking tour of the historic park.  A few minutes after we entered the park, Alice exclaimed excitedly, "There's that tree again!  I'm going to ask one of those guides if they know what it is."

She hustled over to two women in traditional (18th-century) dress and then came hustling back to us.

"It's Crepe Myrtle," she said.  "Or was it Grape Myrtle.  Oh, shoot!"  And she hustled back over to the guides and asked again.

"Crepe Myrtle," she confirmed. In typical Alice fashion, she now knew both of the guides by name.

We continued our walking tour, visiting each historic building along the way.  The trees were everywhere.  "What's the name of that tree, again?" Alice asked every time we spotted one.  I finally said, "Alice, maybe you just should use some kind of trick to remember it."

She said, "Good idea.  It's a fabric and a woman I bowl with."

IT'S EVERYWHERE.

About five minutes later, we passed another tree.  "What's that tree again?" asked Alice.

"What was your trick?"

"I don't remember," but she smiled so I knew she did.

"It's a fabric and a woman you bowl with."

"Oh, that's right," she smiled again and then announced, "Polyester Ethel!"  Cute.

Jerry said, "Mother, why don't you just write it down."  She did so.  Problem solved.

The next day, during our drive back to Washington, D.C., we could hear Alice in the backseat frantically searching her bag.  "Oh, shoot!"

"What's the matter?" Jerry asked.

"I threw out that empty box of film I wrote the name of that tree on!"

SIMPSON'S NURSERY, JAMUL, CALIFORNIA. (FROM THEIR WEBSITE)

Twelve years later, Alice was visiting us in San Diego (we had moved four times since that drive to Williamsburg).  We were living in a wonderful old (for San Diego) house and we were spending most weekends landscaping and gardening.  Our favorite nursery was Simpson's, about 20 minutes outside San Diego in the town of Jamul (pronounced Ha-MOOL).  We were there at least once every weekend.  The place was so huge that you would drive the lanes of trees and shrubs, load up your car, and then drive up front to pay.  We were looking for a smallish tree for our front yard.  We headed up one row and Alice spotted a tree she liked.  "What's that one?" she asked.  Jerry pulled up so I could read the tag, but before I did we burst out laughing and Alice said, "Oh no!" Of course it was Crepe Myrtle.

THE WORK IN PROGRESS, SAN DIEGO IN THE '90s.

Monday, while we waited outside the Office of Extranjeros, I noticed some small trees just beginning to display their puffs of pink flowers.  Crepe Myrtle.  Alice is here.

EARLY MONDAY MORNING AT THE PLAZA DE ESPAÑA.

Be Careful What You Wish For

OK.  I'm tired.  And Jerry is hot (and I don't mean that in a good way right now).  Jerry is melting from the summer heat and we are both exhausted from the seemingly endless tasks we have created for ourselves (yes, we both fully admit that this is all our doing).  I will not whine — well, maybe just a little.  We are hot, tired, and overwhelmed because we have chosen a path that was guaranteed to make us hot, tired, and overwhelmed.  When we get some rest or sip mojitos at Carmela (our new home-away-from-away-from-home) while enjoying a late-night breeze on the Plaza Maria La Blanca, we smile and marvel at how much we have accomplished and how much we continue to accomplish every day.

BEFORE SUNSET.  STOPPING, AGAIN, TO APPRECIATE ONE OF OUR VIEWS.

The man from the electric company met me at the apartment Friday (he gave me 10 minutes notice).  He inspected our circuit breakers and gave his approval for our power to be turned on.  We still don't know WHEN the power will be turned on.  Perhaps Thursday or Friday.  Sadly, we thought this step had already been accomplished a week ago.  But, we will not dwell on that.  It's progress.  By the way, electricity is not referred to as electricity here.  Everyone calls it simply "luz," which means light.

I lost my temporary mobile phone.  I bought another temporary mobile phone.  We then ordered a ton of furniture at IKEA and I provided my new temporary mobile phone number so they could call an hour before delivery.  My new mobile phone was not working, which began a minor IKEA fiasco.  After three days and more than that number of calls to IKEA and the privately contracted delivery/assembly service, the furniture was delivered.  Friday night at 10:00 (and it was a surprise).  It's amazing to live in a city where furniture deliveries are still being made at 10 pm on a Friday.  But, remember, we have no "luz."  The furniture (an apartmentful) was delivered mostly in the dark (well, by the light of the moon).  And I was on my feet the entire time.  No furniture to sit on.

A FEW BLOCKS AWAY.  ON MY WAY TO MEET THE TRUCK FRIDAY NIGHT.

Jerry waited back at the hotel and we then met for dinner and mojitos at Carmela. At midnight.  It's also amazing to live in a city where you can get tapas dinner in a plaza at midnight and, a block away, gourmet ice cream (Belgian Chocolate is Jerry's favorite) at 1:00 in the morning.

I was told the furniture would be assembled Saturday (today).  What time?  No one could tell me.  Someone would call Saturday and let me know.  At 8:45 Saturday morning, the ringing of my now-working mobile phone woke me up.  The assemblers were on their way to the apartment and would be there in less than 20 minutes.  "I need an hour to get there," I said.

FRIDAY NIGHT.  SOME ASSEMBLY REQUIRED.

The assemblers arrived at the apartment an hour and 15 minutes later.  I had opened all the windows and doors to get a good breeze going.  No "luz" means no air conditioning.  And, to the apparent surprise of one of the "assemblers," after about 2 hours of working, no luz also meant no re-charging of cordless screwdrivers.  (He tried plugging it in anyway and then complained to me about the lack of "luz.")  These guys were amazing.  Four assemblers accomplished (easily and flawlessly) in a few hours what Jerry and I would have needed an entire week to do.  Anyway, another three hours on my feet and I then walked the 20 minutes back to the hotel to meet Jerry for lunch.

Missing are the coffee table, Jerry's bed frame, and the slats for my bed.  We knew the coffee table and bed frame were on back order and would be in early next week (which might mean Friday).  The missing slats were a surprise when the guys were assembling the bed.  Another trip to IKEA will probably be required to get everything finalized.  We still don't know when our personal goods will arrive from where they're being stored in England.

I have been doing most of these local tasks because the heat really is too much for Jerry.  He does what's needed (and what can be done in English) behind the scenes.  His time will come.

WE BOUGHT A GREAT TV ON SALE AT EL CORTE INGLÉS.  ALL IT NEEDS IS "LIGHT."
BUT HAVE I MENTIONED THE VIEW?

We have selected an internet plan, a telephone landline plan, cable television, and mobile service for us both.  There was a problem with the "system" that caused a delay in finalizing the paperwork Friday.  So, we'll get that completed Tuesday (Monday is a national holiday).  But, as the sales rep explained to me, they won't install anything until we have "luz."

Had we moved from Irvine to Palm Springs, I would be doing the same whining about all the research that's required, all the decisions that need to be made, all the hoops we have to jump through, all the bureaucracies to navigate... and the intolerable heat.  I remind myself every day that we are now — almost — living in Sevilla; and this is a major dream come true.

So, we'll sit in the dark.

Someone Might Call This Cozy

We have now spent nearly one month in our little, economical hotel room.  We have not kept each other awake — very often. We have not yet begun to climb the walls.  And we have definitely not gotten on each other's nerves.  That last statement is an absolute fact.  Amazing and completely true.  After nearly 30 years together, we can spend almost every waking (and non-waking) hour in one another's company and still really like each other.  This is especially surprising given the fact that Jerry, although possessing brilliant organizational management skills, is a slob, and I am a borderline anal-retentive neat freak.

EVERYTHING IN EASY REACH... BUT USUALLY UNDER SOMETHING ELSE.

We spent five hours at IKEA today.  First, we went to their "Picking Service" with our furniture list (a spreadsheet created by Jerry, the spreadsheet king).  For a fee, they are going through the warehouse for us and loading up everything we've selected. Next, we went to the cashier and paid for everything, including the fee for the picking service.  We then headed over to "Transport and Assembly." For a fee, they will assemble everything.  And for another fee, it will all be delivered later this week (no boxes or packaging left behind).  We made the arrangements and paid the fees.

I HAD MY OWN WALK-IN CLOSET.  NOW I SHARE 4 SHELVES AND 6 HANGERS.

We then had a very good and very unsettling lunch in IKEA's cafeteria restaurant surrounded by bickering adults and screaming children.  If all that — the shopping, the waiting in lines, the shelling out of a boatload of money, the screaming kids, and the bickering adults — hadn't been enough to give us both headaches and indigestion, we then headed back into the store with two shopping carts and we selected sheets, pillows, comforters, blankets, dishes, everyday wine glasses, coffee mugs, and lamps.  Our intention was to hop in a cab with all those goods and take them back to the apartment — which still has no electricity and, therefore, no air conditioning.  We're still awaiting word on when our own stuff shipped from California will be delivered.

LUNCH.  SO MUCH LESS NOISY AND CHAOTIC IN THIS PHOTO.

The most stressful part of the day — other than eating lunch in the middle of an out-of-control daycare center — was buying the linens for the bedroom.  What weight duvet? Why are there so many different sizes of sheets and pillows? Where are the pillow cases for the size pillow we just selected?  Where are the pillows that fit the pillow cases that come with this set?  Is that a top sheet or a bottom sheet?  Does this set come with a duvet cover or a covered duvet?  Should we just buy separates?  What are the measurements of the flat sheet that goes with this fitted sheet?

JERRY'S "OFFICE" AND THE "KITCHEN" AND THE "DEN" AND THE "BEDROOM."

We were so exhausted by the time we finished shopping for linens and then lamps that we could no longer cope with the thought of hauling everything into a taxi and then into a hot apartment.  So we arranged — for another fee — to have those two cartloads delivered tomorrow morning.  We then took a taxi back to the hotel.  As we passed the other shoppers — screaming kids, bickering adults — Jerry commented that if our relationship could survive this, it could survive anything.  But, I already knew that.

MY "OFFICE" (ACTUALLY MY CHARGING STATION).  MY OFFICE IS MY LAP!

Alien Encounters and Signs of Water

Today marked our first visit to the Oficina de Extranjeros (Office of Foreigners).  We were out of bed at 5:45 a.m.  Did you know that the sun has not yet risen in Sevilla at 5:45 a.m.?

We had a healthy and substantial breakfast (buffet) at the hotel at 7 and headed off for the Plaza de España with our wheeled carry-on bag filled with well-organized (thanks, Jerry) paperwork in quadruplicate, including another set of passport-style photos (to meet residency card requirements) — photos taken Saturday at the camera department of El Corte Inglés  for the surprisingly cheap price of 9 euros for 12 photos. Another set of official photos of myself that I find hideous. So I'm glad they were really cheap.  Who is that old guy?  I'm seriously thinking it's time to shave off the very gray beard.

THE VIEW OF THE PLAZA DE ESPAÑA FROM THE NORTH COLONNADE AT 8 A.M.

We arrived at the office at 7:38 and waited in what appeared to be a randomly forming line along the colonnade — 20+ people along the wall and another 20+ opposite them (and us) along the stone balustrade.  But, when the doors opened at 8:30, everyone shuffled into their positions in the line against the wall and we were quickly processed through the doors in groups of about 10 to control the flow.

Jerry and I stepped up to the information desk and were greeted warmly.  I showed our visas and passports to the man at the desk, he issued us two numbers and told us to go across the hall and wait to be called.  We went across the hall but, as we entered the room to which we had been directed, a guard came racing toward us and told us we needed to sit in the large waiting room next to the information desk.  I told him the man at the desk said we should wait in the room across the hall, but the guard said, no, and that our numbers would be called.

We headed back to the information desk to confirm with the man there.  I told him the guard said we should wait in the large room and he said, oh.  So we sat down and waited.  The electronic tote had the number "9" displayed. Our numbers were 31 and 32.

About 20 seconds later, the guard came in and asked for anyone with a yellow ticket (that would be us) to come with him.  People with white tickets waited to be called into another large room behind the reception desk.  It was obvious the guard had things well in hand with managing the flow of people.  He brought us to the room he had only a moment before kicked us out of and then told us to go to table 3 or 4, where a female and a male, respectively, bureaucrat (Thing 3 and Thing 4) sat silently waiting.  We went to table 3.  I said "good morning" and apologized in advance for my Spanish making my over-used and always warmly welcomed comment that my Spanish was not very good and Jerry's was "even less" very good.  Thing 3 didn't smile.  Her face showed no expression.  Botox?  No, Bureaucrat.

I told Thing 3 what we where there for.  She asked where my appointment letter was.  I didn't know what she was talking about.  She showed me a sample and I said we didn't have one and asked how we would obtain one.  She said she personally couldn't help us without an appointment letter and that we instead needed to sit down in the row of chairs against the wall and wait for the blond woman (La Rubia) at the unnumbered table to help us.  We did so.  While we waited, Things 1, 3, and 4 sat quietly staring at their computer terminals, not typing, not mousing, just motionless and staring.  Thing 5 worked with a family.  Thing 2 never arrived.  A line of people sat in the chairs waiting for La Rubia.  Another line stood outside in the hall waiting for the information desk.  The main waiting room was now filled with people watching for their numbers to be posted. The guard stopped by and asked me why we were sitting against the wall and not with Thing 3 or Thing 4.  I explained that Thing 3 told us to see La Rubia.  He scratched his head, shrugged, and walked away to help someone else.  He was doing his best to keep things moving.

FILES ON THE READY.  WE ONLY PRESENTED TWO PIECES OF PAPER TODAY.

La Rubia saw about five people before us — we shifted up in the row of chairs each time someone left.  At one point, Thing 3 called out to me from her solitary position and said we should go see La Rubia now.  La Rubia still had someone at the table and snapped back at Thing 3 that, no, she wasn't ready.  After only about 5 minutes of waiting, she called us to her table.  I gave her our passports, visas, and NIE letters from the city of Sevilla.  She asked what we wanted.  I told her we were there to apply for our residency cards.  She said we needed to see Thing 3.  Thing 3 overheard this comment and called back that we didn't have appointment letters.  La Rubia said something to me about needing appointment letters to obtain our student residency cards.  I smiled and said we were not students; we were retired (I said "thank you, but we're too old to be students").  I explained that we had retirement residency visas and that we did not work.  She then called that information out to Thing 3.  Thing 3 said, good, and that she still couldn't do anything without an appointment letter.  I asked again, how do we get an appointment and letter?

Finally, La Rubia, pulled out two forms (forms we had been expecting to receive today) and told me we needed to take those to the bank, pay 15 euros and then come back on our appointed day to complete the process.  I again asked, "How do we get appointments?"  She took out her appointment book and copied our identification numbers into it.  She then wrote our appointments on the forms we would take to the bank.  We can go to any bank to make our payment.  We will then return — with our receipts — to the Oficina de Extranjeros on our appointed day and time to, supposedly, complete the process.

My brain is still rattling.  But, except for a quick trip to the bank in the coming days to make our two 15 euro payments, we can relax until 25 August.  Maybe we'll then have the dubious pleasure of visiting again with Thing 3; maybe it will be Thing 1 or Thing 2.  Or perhaps the Cat in the Hat himself will make an appearance.

WATER, WATER, EVERYWHERE

At 2:30, I was met promptly at the apartment by the man from the water company.  He hooked up the water meter for our apartment in the main closet in the lobby and I simply had to turn on the taps to make sure it was working.  So, we've got water.  Now all we need is electricity and furniture!

OUR MAIN BATHROOM.  WATER NOW RUNS OUT OF THAT SHINY CHROME TAP.

Present and Accounted For

We had great plans to have an early breakfast today and head back to the Empadronamiento to register. The intention was to enjoy the cool of the morning before the heat and humidity increased.

GLASS!  WHAT YOU SEE WHEN THE CENSUS BUREAU IS OPEN.

We woke up at about 8 (that is, by the way, extremely early for us in recent weeks). But we rolled over and went back to sleep and 9:32 arrived awfully quickly (and, for us recently, that's still admittedly not bad). We finally headed out for breakfast at 10:35. By the time we walked over to the Empadronamiento, it was 11:15, the brief overcast had cleared, and the heat was increasing. For Jerry's sake, we slowly sauntered.

We had success. Or, as is said in Spanish, we had "éxito," which means success. It is one of those words I am grateful to understand; the initial assumed translation (exit) didn't make much sense. Anyway, we are now registered with the census bureau and counted among the residents of Sevilla!

I saw a plaque on one of the nearby buildings in the warren surrounding the Empadronamiento.  Apparently, these buildings have been here since around 1585.  I am awestruck.

THE COURTYARD OF A GOVERNMENT BUILDING NEAR THE EMPADRONAMIENTO.

Now that we're registered with the Empadronamiento, we can head Monday morning to the office for foreigners (Oficina de Extranjeros) in the spectacular Plaza de España to see how far we get with the rest of our registration process (to obtain our final resident cards). We have read online (expat posts) that you can make an appointment. We have also read online (expat posts) that you can NOT make an appointment and that you simply wait in line.  The posts that said you need an appointment said you phone ahead for one.  I tried phoning a dozen times today before they closed at 2 (well, their posted summer hours say they close at 2) and I never got an answer.  So, we'll wait in line.  We'll bring water and snacks and we'll see how it goes.  We have also read on those expat posts that we need to wait in line the first time to obtain a form that we then complete and take to the bank.  At the bank, we submit the form and pay a 10-euro fee.  We then — we've read — go back another day to the Oficina de Extranjeros, wait in line again, submit the receipt, our visas, and all the other paperwork and proofs we've carried since submitting our applications at the consulate in Los Angeles, and we complete the process.  The web is so full of helpful as well as completely bogus information.  This should be interesting.

WHAT EVERY DRIVEWAY NEEDS.

The lawyer who manages our building emailed me a bit ago.  His English is slightly worse than my Spanish (well, maybe more than slightly).  And he kindly and unfortunately insists on writing his emails in English.  This is what he wrote:

"Next Monday to them 14.30h you have to be in the floor because they come to install the book-keeper of the water."  

We at least understand that one of us needs to be at the apartment 2:30 Monday afternoon.  We have a general idea of the rest (a new meter needs to be installed), although the water is supposedly already taken care of and the lawyer does consistently confuse the English word "water" with the English word "electricity," so it's possible the new electrical meter is being installed Monday (especially since someone was coming from the electric company today to give a safety clearance so that we could have the meter installed and the power turned on).  In any case, I will be there Monday at 2:30 to meet someone.  I just hope that leaves us enough time to take care of our first pass at our residency cards. I think I'd better set the alarm.

Open for Business, Unless We're Not

Now that we have our Spanish residency visas (obtained in Los Angeles in June), the first step on the path to obtaining our residency cards is to register with the Empadronamiento (the Census Bureau).  I found the office late Tuesday morning through an archway in an ancient warren of buildings — after insisting to Jerry earlier that morning that it couldn't possibly be found through that unassuming arch.  The woman who helped me was very knowledgeable.   She gave me the two documents we need to complete and she explained the process.  On the back of one document, instructions and office hours are clearly marked.  This is going to be a breeze.

NOTHING VERY OFFICIAL LOOKING.

THE ARCHWAY.  I WENT BACK LATER TUESDAY MORNING AND FOUND THE OFFICE.

THE BACK OF THE FORM WITH THE HOURS CLEARLY INDICATED.
CLOSED AT 2 FOR SIESTA; OPEN AGAIN 4–8 P.M.

RETURNING WITH OUR PAPERWORK TODAY.  BUT I WAS SURE
THERE WAS A GLASS DOOR AND WINDOWS TUESDAY INSTEAD OF ALL THIS WOOD.

RENOVATED IN 2002.  ART GALLERIES, FLORISTS, AND THE EMPADRONAMIENTO.

POSTED HOURS: 9:30 TO 1:30.  WE WERE THERE AT 4:15.  I GUESS WE'LL BE BACK TOMORROW.

I didn't see the special posted hours Tuesday because the wood doors were pulled wide to allow access.  And the woman I met was so helpful.  And the information on the form was so clear.  We have repeatedly read that we should expect to be surprised (AKA, disappointed) by "regular" business hours.  We're learning.  Afterall, tomorrow is another day!

Powerlessness... And Another Set of Knockers

Well, we still don't have electricity or water in our apartment, but progress is being made.  The building is managed by the law firm with offices on the first floor (the second floor by typical American reckoning).  We met yesterday with the principal lawyer and another lawyer on his team.  They have kindly volunteered their services (yes, that's right, lawyers have kindly volunteered) to get the water and electricity turned on for us.  These guys have been so gracious, kind, and generous with their time.  Unfortunately, even with their help, it could take until the middle of next week before we have electricity.  We also asked them to help us with the process of obtaining our residency cards.

IT'S NOT MUCH, BUT IT'S HOME... FOR NOW (AND AN INCREDIBLE DEAL).

Each time we visit the apartment, we like it and the neighborhood even more.  We're very excited to get in and hope we'll be sleeping there some time next week.  Our shipped items are now on their way.  Minor apartment repairs — and new locks — will be taken care of over the next few days.  We're going to start picking up sheets, towels, etc., and washing them in preparation for move-in day (we're heading off to shop in a few minutes).  And we'll head back over to IKEA to make our major purchases and arrange for delivery.  It's all very exciting.  I'm gratified Jerry and I can survive so well sharing one room (in the hotel) for such a long time given our preference for personal space.

ENTRANCE TO EL PALACIO ARZOBISPAL (THE PALACE OF THE ARCHBISHOP).

This is not going to become the blog to visit for pictures of knockers.  But, I spotted a prodigious set today across the plaza from the cathedral on the doors to the Palace of the Archbishop and it was obvious to me that they should have been included in the "Nice Knockers" post.

YOU'D HAVE TO BE ON HORSEBACK TO REACH THE LOWER KNOCKER (RIGHT).
I HAVE NO IDEA WHO WOULD REACH THE UPPER ONE (PERHAPS A HIGHER POWER).

Nice Knockers

On our walks around old Sevilla, Jerry and I continue to see so many beautiful, unusual, and surprising sights.  Among these sights are the old and new, large and small, door knockers, which I believe are called "aldabas" in Spanish.  During our first week, Jerry would invariably (and innocently) comment, "Nice knockers" — not a phrase usually escaping Jerry's lips (or even crossing his mind).  I've had to explain the double meaning to Jerry, but we really have seen some nice knockers (of the door kind... well, of the other kind too if I'm honest), and I've decided to share some of them here (again, of the door kind).  I especially love the very large, plain iron ring (the first image on the left below) I found in an ancient church door, because it tops a little speak-easy window. ("Pssst.  Judas sent me.")

And, since I hate to be a tease, here for your viewing pleasure is a very brief video of BOTH kinds of knockers.

Street-Walking and El Corte Inglés

Thursday marked two weeks since our arrival in Sevilla.  Hotel-living is getting old.  Especially hotel-living on the edge of the city center rather than within the city center.  In 95 to 100 degree heat, we'd much rather not have to walk the extra 10 or 15 minutes to get to the heart of things.  But, as they say, this too shall pass.  It is Sunday in Sevilla.  Sundays tend to be very quiet here since many businesses are closed.  Sundays in July and August are just about dead, since even those businesses that are usually open have shut their doors on Sundays (and many on Saturdays, as well) these two months.  But, our hotel has been pleasant.  And the deal is incredible.  The hotel room is actually costing us less per week than our apartment.  If it weren't for the expense of eating out three meals a day, this wouldn't be bad.  Anyway, Jerry and I have been known to eat out three meals a day even when we have a kitchen.  So, I suppose I shouldn't gripe too much.  Jerry doesn't go out much in the heat of the day (nor do most people).  I don't mind it much — nor do I sweat (excuse me, Mom, perspire) like Jerry (who has been going through about three shirts a day).  So, I continue to wander on my own, exploring, marveling, and taking pictures.

AVENIDA DE LA CONSTITUCION THIS WARM SATURDAY AFTERNOON.

We patiently await (or at least we try to patiently await) the turning on of the water and electricity in our new apartment.  We have no idea when that will happen.  Perhaps Monday.  Perhaps as late, or later than, the following Monday.  Until we have electricity (which means air conditioning), we will not get our furniture from IKEA, nor will we schedule delivery of the things we had shipped from California, nor will we paint the living room, etc.  So, we're in a holding pattern.  I have drawn up floor plans and furniture to-scale, so we know exactly where everything is going and how it will fit.  Jerry has created a spreadsheet of all the dimensions, stock numbers, prices, and more, of everything we'll get from IKEA.  We're ready.

PLAZA DE CABILDO, A TINY SEMI-CIRCULAR PLAZA DISCOVERED DOWN AN ALLEY
ACROSS FROM THE CATHEDRAL.  WITHIN, A GREAT STORE FOR STAMP-COLLECTORS.

Yesterday after lunch, Jerry walked back to the cool of the hotel and I strolled the city.  It was too early to take care of some of the things I wanted to research, such as what our internet/TV/landline telephone/mobile options are — because those few stores that would have been open Saturday were closed for siesta.  So, I simply walked the streets.

EL CORTE INGLES ON PLAZA DEL DUQUE.  MAIN STORE AND CAMERA STORE.

I shopped a bit at El Corte Inglés and will definitely have to find more practical places to shop, as just about everything is significantly more expensive than I'm used to (Jerry's usually $16 designer-chic deodorant sticks are more than $40 at El Corte Inglés).  I like to shop but I enjoy sales and premium outlet malls.  Still, El Corte Inglés is a fun place (or I should say places) to shop.

EL CORTE INGLES, MORE FOR WOMEN ON EL PLAZA DEL DUQUE (AND THE BACK ALLEY)

In Centro (the old center of Sevilla), the department store has five buildings (unless I've missed one).  There is another large El Corte Inglés in Nervion, a more contemporary neighborhood well east of Centro.  The main store in Centro, in the Plaza del Duque, contains clothing, their famous gourmet supermarket, places to eat, cosmetics, etc.  Across the plaza is the store that carries books, cameras, and other personal eletronics.  On another corner of the plaza is more women's clothing.  A few streets away are two more El Corte Inglés stores.  One carries furniture; the other is for appliances, housewares, hardware, electronic keyboards, mobile phone company counters.  It's hard to keep track.  We met Albert our first day in town in front of, per his instructions, El Corte Inglés.  He told me which one, electronics.  I didn't realize there were more than the three on the Plaza del Duque and thought "electronics" meant the one that carries cameras.  Poor Albert (and Jerry) stood waiting in the hot sun.  I'm grateful for cell phones.  Albert is half Swedish.  Jerry is half Norwegian.  They both change their shirts often.

WHERE WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE.  ON THE PLAZA DE LA MAGDALENA.

Mojitos and Other Muddles

Have I mentioned lately that I'm not only happy to be having this new adventure in Spain but I'm especially elated to be having another adventure (in Spain or anywhere else) WITH JERRY?

MUDDLED MINT.  SO BUSY SIPPING THAT I ALMOST FORGOT TO GET A PICTURE.

We signed Monday on the dotted line.  Well, more exactly, we signed — in triplicate — in the margin of every page and then at the bottom of the last page of our apartment contract. We then rushed to the bank to meet with our English-speaking banker, Rosario, who turned out to be our English-speaking banker, Amin, although no one told us it wasn't Rosario until the next day.  We signed about 90 pieces of paper at the bank and we now have a Spanish bank account.  We are waiting for the building owners to sign our lease paperwork, so we can take that to the appropriate offices to make our first (and, we hope, only) pass at obtaining our resident cards.  We still have to get the utilities turned on.  It took us the better part of a day to figure out the names of the two utility companies.  Even the simplest task becomes a major learning opportunity. So many new chances to feel like complete idiots.

ANOTHER DINNER IN PLAZA MARIA LA BLANCA TUESDAY NIGHT.

BACK TO CARMELA

Our new security blankets are our mojitos at Carmela.  We tried Mojitos at San Marco Restaurant the other night but they were so bad that we actually sent them back.  Carmela's are consistently good.  So are Carmela's tapas.  We had "comfort" tapas last night — light servings of meat and potatoes.

THE MISSION-STYLE DESK WILL SOON BE IN ITS NEW HOME IN SPAIN.

MUEBLES (FURNITURE)
Except for the five pieces of furniture and miscellaneous items we shipped from California that will be here soon, we don't have enough furniture to fill our new three-bedroom apartment.  And since we don't want to use our entire retirement budget to furnish it in grand style, we headed over to IKEA this afternoon to see how we can fill in cheaply.  We had a very successful first look at IKEA and will soon take on the challenge of ordering everything and arranging for delivery (all in Spanish), and then putting it all together, which can be comical in any language.  In addition to the antiques I included in earlier posts (the grandfather's clock, the antique coat rack, the antique cabinet), we've got my old Mission-style desk, our English pub table, some antique family portraits, Jerry's grandmother's mantel clock, my mother's sculpture (and needleworks and paintings), antique mirrors, and lots of wall art. 

SOME OF THE OTHER MISCELLANY AS IT WAS BEING PACKED.

These items and our "brilliant sense of design," should enable us to make the place homey, classy and not completely IKEA-like.  I mention our brilliant sense of design since we are afterall a couple of gay men and it has been said — repeatedly and absurdly — that we ALL have a brilliant sense of design.

SEEN AT TABERNA MIAMI IN TRIANA THE OTHER NIGHT.  NOT GOING UP ON OUR WALL.

THE OTHER MUDDLES
So, as I mentioned, we await more paperwork that we can take to register for our resident cards.  The lawyer offered today to try and turn on our utilities (since he represents the entire building) without requiring us to go in-person to the utility offices (the names of which, and addresses, we finally now have).  We hope he's successful.  And we'll need to make another trip to the bank because, although we have an account, we were unsuccessful yesterday setting up our online banking.  The number we were given in a sealed envelope turned out to be unreadable.  Very secure.

DOROTHY, WE ARE NOT IN CALIFORNIA ANYMORE (BUT THERE IS AN ELEVATOR)

I Wanna Go to Miami

The title is the punchline to a very old and very bad joke:  "What is the favorite wine of a certain ethnic-American princess?"  (Wine... whine... get it?)  The only reason I thought of it, was because we were in Triana last night (one of the neighborhoods across the river) and we had dinner at Taberna Miami, a great restaurant and Tapas bar.

TABERNA MIAMI.  THE SHRIMP WAS DELICIOUS, BUT WAY TOO MUCH WORK!

The Vela de Santa Ana is an annual Triana festival that has its origins in an ancient pilgrimage made to the Parish of Santa Ana for, I believe, around 700 years.  We had a first look Friday night with Manolo, our January-vacation landlord and now valued friend.

AFTER TAPAS.  STROLLING OVER TO THE ENTERTAINMENT.

Jerry and I went back across the river Saturday night to take in some more.  We took the bus there and walked home.  It's about a 20-minute leisurely walk from our hotel — 30 minutes if you stop for three scoops of ice cream on the way back.  But, it's only about 10 minutes away from our new apartment!

FOOD AND DRINKS AND BEAUTIFUL VIEWS.

After dinner, we walked back to the plaza where a large stage and seating area is set up for live performances.  Friday night, we got to hear a bit of Flamenco singing from some of the best and brightest, and most famous.  Saturday night, Jerry and I watched some of the children's Flamenco dance competition.  The pairs we saw ranged in age from about 8 to 13.  And there was some amazing talent. 

THE FLAMENCO COMPETITION.

SENSATIONAL TALENT.  THE AUDIENCE WAS FILLED WITH PEOPLE OF EVERY AGE.

I posted about Triana, famous for its tile workshops and potteries, back in January.  It's also famous for providing almost the entire crews for Columbus's voyages to America.  

AWFUL TO IMAGINE.

HEADING THROUGH THE CALLEJON TO THE PASEO DE ARTE.

In addition to those distinctions, Triana, has another:  The public market is built on the site of the former prison, Castilla San Jorge, home of the Spanish Inquisition.  Jerry and I walked down Callejon de la Inquisicion.  It's a charming little alley that leads to a beautiful spot on the river.  But, during the Inquisition, if you were taken down the "callejon," you were probably about to be burned alive for being a heretic (unless you repented and were lucky enough to be garroted first).  Now, when you walk through the arch and arrive at the river, you'll find the Paseo de Arte, an ongoing venue for local artists.  It's a nice change.

BACK OVER THE BRIDGE FOR ICE CREAM.