Quiet day before the "off"

Went along to Seville Cathedral to get the first stamp on my pilgrim passport.  Mass was just about to start and there was a curious mixture of pious andalucians and gawping not pious tourists.  Afterwards had a zumo in the Horno opposite, where Harriet and I used to read our books while Sam enjoyed watching the “bendy buses” go past when he was 4 on our/my first visit to Seville in 1996.  Then I strolled over the bridge to the Triana district, packed with locals busy having lunch.  It was quite difficult to find a place at a bar, but I managed to have a spot of salmorejo in one, some rinones al jerez in another, then a delicious glass of liquid gazpacho, and so on, enjoying the total lack of English being spoken.  In fact I’ve hardly heard any anywhere – quite a lot of French, a bit of Portuguese and some Dutch, but virtually no English or American. 

Wandered back to my hotel on the Isla de Cartuja over the magnificent Puente de Alamillo, by Santiago Calatrava.  Although entirely made of straight lines, it somehow feels curvaceous and sexy.  Such a pity they didn’t use him to make the Millennium footbridge in Newcastle, instead of the pretty but somehow, well, pedestrian bridge designed by Wilkinson Eyre.

After a very pleasant siesta, my last evening in Seville was spent surrounded by crowds enjoying the night before the Todos los Santos holiday, so much livelier than most Sunday nights here, with the bells tolling from the churches and lots of children in full Halloween outfits.  Despite just ambling along, still covered just under 14 miles over the day.