I ended up crying in Maria's shop in the morning. Teresa (Therese) took me for a walk later. Then I got a call back from Mara, at the last moment before she was due to leave. I was in Triana Saturday night and knew her ad was the same place I'd seen in June. I knew it would only be a temporary solution but called on the off-chance she might need a temporary solution too, which she did.
Teresa (a Parisian with almost no accent in Spanish, and a friend of Maria's) came with me to get the deal sorted out with Mara, and to be sure I was not getting into another bad place - to take care of me!
After she left me and I was crossing the bridge, I ran into Bill coming from the other side and he took me for a beer. Then he cancelled his guitar lesson for the evening and helped me get a taxi and move my stuff. And then took me for dinner near my new house. Equally as important as his muscle (getting my suitcases up to the 3rd floor), was his wit. There were irreverent comments of various types for a lady that would be unhygienic and then insult me, and a new flamenco nickname ("pee-foot") he threatened to give me.
I love Triana. I wanted to live here when I first arrived in January. There is a lot smaller of a section of it than of the main city, that is really nice, as far as old buildings. But in that area, and near Plaza Altozano, the Triana Bridge and the streets close to the river, it is really relaxing. Much more like a small town. I had left all my food in the pee house, to be retrieved today, because I couldn't organise everything super fast with Bill waiting, and also because I wanted a reason to return the next day so I could keep the key, until she had the deposit ready to return to me.
So I went for breakfast at an extremely low key, small bar tucked into a side street, but one I've been to before. Bar Vargas. It is pure Sevilla, Triana. Traditional. The man who runs and owns it is a genuine server. Businesslike but kind, and runs his simple establishment in a quality way. There are pictures or collections of all the important things on the wall: pins of all the hermandades of the Rocio (pilgrimage likened by Maria to the muslim one to Mecca - LOL!), a signed picture of Manolo Marin (great dancer now dead, whose studio door is just down the street), bullfighters and old pictures of the neighborhood.
Then I set out to see if my suitcase could be dry cleaned (no). So I came home and soaked it in the bathtub. Since I am so close to the Triana market, I got tomatoes and other essentials, and went to my favorite bakery in all of Sevilla to get a proper Gallega (bread with pointy ends, lots of holes inside). Since my olive oil (along with the food of lesser importance) was in the pee house until 6 pm when Mercedes agreed she could be there, on the way back from practicing I stopped in at Flores (a surname and an expensive, fancy shop) and put a small (250mL) bottle of expensive (6.85E) olive oil on my credit card.
There can't be anything as good as this. It tastes like you are eating the colour green. Similar to very young, very fresh, top quality green tea. I didn't eat it in a manner worthy of its grand origin and fancy shop. It got snorted and oinked down!
Mara seems really cool, and the only reason I wouldn't install myself permanently in this place and refuse to ever move anywhere else the rest of my life, is that she smokes and has a big dog with lots of hair. I can handle that until she/me finds another person/another place, but not to commit to living in the same space long term. As much as I might dearly love some of my friends who smoke, I could not live with them smoking while cooking in my space for a year. Same with dogs. At least this dog is a cool dog - a happy dog. But similarly - can't commit to share the couch with a dog, full time for a year. Anyways, I have one more day to be alone on the internet in a cool living room looking down on the sparkling river between typing one word and the next, at 1:30 am.
I spent several hours at Maria's shop tonight after grovelling down some more olive oil, avocado, Payoyo cheese and wine mixed with water and lemon juice. It was a strictly fun evening. I went to pick up my portatil (computer) which I'd left in her shop. We talked alone for quite a while (about subjects you might be surprised I would talk to someone I barely know, and completely in a foreign language), until a Turkish couple came in. They spoke excellent English but no Spanish. I translated, while he bargained hard and Maria made him some small concessions simply because he was Turkish and she was being nice and accomodating his cultural needs. This went on for quite a while, with the girl adding new things until they ended up with 90E worth of earrings. They were quite entertaining, and Maria was enjoying herself even though having to attempt to stick to her prices. It all ended with the guy offering cigarettes and making a funny Turkish gesture of respect for Maria.
Plaza de Toros
At sunset, the sun on the stained glass window. I have THE best view in one of the most beautiful cities in the entire world.
The only wine below 5E at Flores was a mix of Tempranillo and Cabernet. I have not drunk a Cabernet for a very long time. It seems like some kind of sweet, syrupy thing beside the ubiquitous Rioja. There are really only two types of wine normally available in your average bar: Rioja and Ribera del Duoro. I am not with it enough to have things sorted out this good, but I think Tempranillo are often used in Rioja, Rioja being the region and Tempranillo the grape.
The wine tastes better at 2 am than it did at 4:30 this afternoon. It is made over here of course, which is why it is decent and mixed with something with enough... whatever...to tone it down. Still tastes like I'm eating sugar-ed berries. One would not really want to add sugar to fresh berries.
Anyways, if I don't get a job soon, I'll be drinking my credit card bottles of wine on the street corner.
Actually, this wine is WAY better than 90% of what I could get for even under $25 at home...
Goodnight
No comments:
Post a Comment