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Andalusian Archways; Summer started in Seville

I first fell in love with ceramic mosaics and started a habit out of photographing doorways and archways on a trip to Morocco 6 years ago; a fascination with what i now have come to know as being synonymous with the Andalusian area of Southern Spain.  The Moorish architecture in these parts describes the berber-islamic influence of Northern Africa across parts of Spain and Portugal dating back to medieval times when the Moors were dominant across the Iberian territory also into France and as far as Italy. 

The style of an inward-focussed Riad; where the rooms open into an internal atrium space and often into internal courtyards, and fountain-filled gardens, lends itself to beautiful characteristic elements of horseshoe arches, domes and decorative tile work that would become the focus of my photographic exploration.





                                     



                                      



                                     


  
Our summer started in Seville, where the Alcazar Palace offered all of the above and more... well, 40 plus degrees celcius more.. not quite acclimatised from the early throes of a cool Australian winter, I spent the first morning stumbling around Seville's cobbled streets in a heat-affected haze in search of one mist umbrella bar oasis to the next. A few obligatory sangrias heavy-on-the-ice later, we were ready to face the two UNESCO World Heritage Sites starting with the Cathedral (Catedral de Santa Maria de la Sede) where I'd read that the main section of the Giralda, or bell tower was another example of Moorish origin design.  This Roman Catholic Cathedral is the largest Gothic Cathedral and third-largest church in the world and it wasn't lost on me as we embarked on a ramped spiral ascent of increasingly worn and slippery cobble stones to reach the top of the tower.  If i had a hessian sack i would have been tempted to slide my way down save for the hundreds of people i would take out on the way!













Next stop the Alcazar Palace where the renaissance baroque Italian inspired internal fittings and manicured gardens where peacocks played and water fountains sprayed was a welcome distraction from the searing heat awaiting us outside its imposing walls.




Immense in another sense, we wandered past the Torre del Oro (gold tower) dodecahedron military tower, a watch-tower of 12 faces, built by the Moors in the 13th Century to guard access to Seville via the Guadalquivir river.







However, that day, the famous bull ring was our eventual and planned destination.  The Plaze de Toros de la Real Maestranza de Caballeria de Sevilla is the oldest bullring in Spain and considered one of the finest throughout the world. The tour took us breathtakingly close to the main ring where the spirit and rich history of Spain were immortalised through the colours of the flag in warm yellow sand and rich red fencing against a backdrop of an impressive acoustic arena. The would-be energy on a fight day was almost palpable and my mind crossed to our pending travels to Pamplona for the San Fermin festival where i was excited but conflicted, as most might be, at the prospect of watching a live fight. The tour took us through a small museum tracing the origins, proud heritage and often macarbe reality of the sport from the 18th Century to present day. Complete with bull heads, glittering outfits and posters we were transported into the esteemed and celebrated world of the Matador.




For something truly contemporary and unique, the recently completed (2011) Metropol Parasol, a giant wooden structure weaving its way over the Seville skyline over Encarnacion's Square is a sight to behold.  Controversial due to the exorbinant cost and delays in construction, not to mention its location over a site where Roman and Andalusian ruins were discovered mid construction, the Parasol is popularly referred to as Encarnacion's mushrooms (Las Setas de la Encarnacion). The Parasol claims to be the largest wooden structure in the world and in my experience is certainly a draw-card for young Spanish lovers to steal a kiss along the dimly lit undulating walkway hovering above the city. Climb to the top and enjoy magical views and maybe a drink at one of the panoramic terrace bars and restaurants.

Our Spanish initiation would not be complete without some evening tapas perched on stools in a crowded bar in an old town square.  What would have a been a regularly relaxed evening if not for the collective tension and anticipation centred on a small television in the corner.  We held our breath as Spain eventually beat Portugal in a penalty shoot out in the Euro 2012 semi-final and the whole bar erupted in cheers with the entire male kitchen and bar staff engaged in group hugging and singing.  Truth be told, service was a little slow at Dos that night but combined with our poor grasp of the Spanish language hindering our ordering skills, it was hard to tell who was at fault and we resolved to do better next time when returning to Spain in another week or so.  Portugal awaited us the next day and given the night's celebrations in Spain, i wondered what sort of post sporting devastation lull might greet us over the border..  

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