bloc (de notes)

Dimecres, 21 de maig del 2025

Seville is one of those places I have explored too much on Street View (hope that’s not just me?). I was there for work and had precisely 1.5 hours to spare before my miserable journey back to Crawley Airport (the accurate name Gatwick should reclaim). I’ve been told many times Seville has a top tier cycling infrastructure. In disbelief, I hired a Sevici, put my helmet on, and headed on a 30 minute stroll in 38 degree weather to my following destination (lunch). The whole network is visibly marked in green, has priority over cars in traffic lights and crossings and is infinitely superior to any network in the UK. Testing concluded, I put the bike away.

I stopped for lunch at Chari’s bar – I saw her once on Spanish daytime television and had the urge to meet her since. “Tenemos arroz mi alma… Pepeeeee ponme un arroz para el niño.” (How does one replicate a Sevillian accent in writing I wonder?). I could either sit in the terrace or the indoor dining room. I told her “Wherever I’m closer to you Chari x”. The dining area was tiny, had some subtle religious icons, two ceiling fans at full blast, Canalsur on the telly. Service was very fast-paced! €11 for a set menu including a lovely beef rice (not paella!), fried fish and three slices of watermelon(?). The desert options were very unconventional.

Chari loves a chat. (I tried Chari xcx but she didn’t get the joke). Not trying to gentrify the place but I would advise a visit. I attempted to come across as a local and failed miserably, for the record, so be warned! “Si queres me haces bisum mi alma” – Chari kindly reminded me, they’re cash only. El Bar Kiko de Chari took me back to the restaurant my 85-year-old auntie used to run, Restaurant Versailles, in Sant Antoni de Calonge. Chari, reminds me of my auntie, Tia Maria (not the liqueur brand), who now lives a quieter life as a pensionist. She gives me cooking lessons whenever I go back home and I miss her so much.

I’ll quickly praise Venta Rumis too, which was opposite our studio and is as glamurous as a café in industrial Camas can get. I do find business parks in Spain and their food culture quite charming. I explain I’ve come all the way from South London to claim my €6 desayuno andaluz (which includes a freshly squeezed, large, orange juice). That didn’t seem to raise any questions. It was around 12.30pm which is fairly late for a breakfast. No chance of ordering avocado on toast there so no need to gatekeep the address: Calle de La Sta. Cruz, 25, 41900 Camas.

As is usually the case when landing at Gatwick South, I was greeted by the not one but two (?) murals of QE II (it’s an iykyk situation). I never quite understood them and I think most will agree it’s not a preferred sight after a long flight (unless you fly BA). I bump into a confused, elderly lady who was also travelling from Seville. She asked for directions to try and meet her grandson. We then ended up having a chat. I wonder, how does one adopt an Andalusian abuela? I insisted she was welcome in Plumstead any time but she didn’t seem too interested???

Dimecres, 21 de maig de 2025