Seville, 2nd day

After Oswaldo leaves for the university I check the temperature

and it's a crisp 7 degrees Celsius out there. I give it a little time and head out after 11 when it's a bit milder. I come across a beautiful old house, La Casa de los Pinelo, which is also home to The Royal Seville Academy of the Humanities. There are two courtyards

and two libraries

and two fabulous toureiro outfits!

The first of which was admired by Picasso, who drew this adorable bull

(In all this beauty there is also a frightful collection of modern art. Such a weird contrast).

I walk on through a new set of tiny streets emerging in the Santa Cruz area, where the restaurants are setting up for the lunch crowds and the air is perfumed with fresh olive oil. My mission is to scope out the Bodeguita Casablanca, recommented by a Daily Telegraph writer. It's apparently a favorite of the Spanish monarch, and I have selected it for my lunch with Oswaldo, who today is able to get away from his conference for a couple of hours. He arrives by Tranvia, a cool tram, which glides silently through the streets. The restaurant is not yet busy, and when we sit at a table and ask for tapas, the tough waiter informs us that tapas are only served standing at the bar. On his firm recommendation we share a dish of asparagus - which disappointingly turn out to be big wet white ones, fresh out of a can, with an ominious duo of rosé and tartarsauce - but also an excellent filêt of merluza.

We're surrounded by pictures of bulls and bull fights with bulls getting slain. Oswaldo looks around and remarks, "No wonder the king thinks nothing of shooting a couple of elephants," referring to Juan Carlos' recent safari scandal.

After lunch we walk down to the river Guadalquivir, passing the Torre de Oro

before leaving the river and going round the government palace, San Telmo, where a series of statues on the roof catches our eyes, especially the first on the right who is contemplating a cut off head in his hand...

Our route takes us through a lovely park, the Parque de Maria Luisa, where intent joggers and bikers pass us by, until we get to the Museo Artes e Costumbres Populares. Unfortunately the clothes part is closed for renovation, but there's an interesting exhibit of flamenco costumes, showing not only a replica of a workshop, but also recent bridal gowns used by Spanish brides.

Then it's time for a cold drink in the sunshine

and then Oswaldo has to go back. We part ways and I take the Tranvia back to the Plaza Nueva, from where I cut through yet another set of very narrow alleys to get to our hotel - and get completely lost. Map flapping in my hand, now useless with all the tiny unmarked streets, I have to ask for help in a store, where I buy some snacks for the room, and get pointed in the right direction. Turns out at some point I turned left when I should have turned right. I'm relieved when I find our street and can return to our comfortable and warm hotel room. When Oswaldo returns, cold and tired, much later, we decide we're all dined out and stay in for the night.