Today marked Greg’s last day with me on our sibling adventure into the heart and heat of Andalusia. I was already feeling the pangs of separation anxiety. Greg and I are close and we communicate and laugh with each other regularly and openly, not to mention we are practically neighbors in the states, but we have never taken a trip together just the two of us. This summer was the perfect time to sneak one in, as Greg is married and moving into his new, beautiful home on the 30th, and well… you know what will come after marriage and a house, so really now was the time to escape into the European unknown together for a sibling-only bonding experience. I would have loved for Julie, his wife, to join us as I’m used to happily playing third wheel with those two, but she unfortunately couldn’t take the time off from work. Anyhow, it was Greg’s final day and America’s birthday, and what better way to ring in independence and freedom in my eyes than a long, liberating run. Queue Greg’s eye roll ;). He really did end up enjoying this run through gorgeous, pedestrian-friendly Seville. We did a longer run because Seville is like one giant garden. Everywhere you turn in Seville there seems to be a stunning, well manicured park with fountains and walkways and lush vegetation. Fortuitously, Greg and I ran straight through Plaza de America, where a growing flock of pigeons organized themselves amongst a sculpture of a blonde girl reading a book. We couldn’t pass up this photo opportunity mid run. 

   
Post American sweat session, we felt our American appetites kick in and went out in search of the most American cuisine we could find. Our wishes were granted in the form of a tiny cafe that served triple decker sandwiches and potato chips. We happily gorged ourselves and met a couple on their honeymoon from California who were departing Seville and heading for Morocco. 

  
Greg and I didn’t have lofty plans for today, as we felt we had toured the most popular sites that we both desired to see, but we did have one site left on our list, which was Torre Del Oro, a military watch tower built in the 13th century. It’s name translates to Golden Tower, and it got this name because of the golden hue it cast upon the water below.
 Decked out in red, white, blue, stars, and stripes, we made the trek to Torre del Oro. The tower itself was somewhat unimpressive, but the view at the top was worthwhile. There is a decent museum halfway up to the top that teaches you about the history of the tower and how it was restored about three times over the last four centuries due to a significant earthquake, destruction at the hands of revolutionaries, and most recently due to old age. To be perfectly honest, at this point Greg and I were kind of experiencing history overload and decided to cruise through the learning part and sail up to the top to feast with our eyes and not with our brains. Atop the tower, gazing out at the Spanish city I came to immediately adore, I had a paradoxically cathartic moment- my heart was quelling with happiness for the love of my adventure and the new territories I was exploring, but it was also full of gratitude and pride for my home country. I’m grateful to live in a country that I proudly call home, that allows me to have the freedom to engage in my passions, such as traveling, with ease and encouragement. My personal traveler’s paradox I guess I can call it: a love for the escape, but a simultaneous love for the soil that’s fostered the life that longs for escape. 

  
We had now checked off all our tourism to-do’s, and it was time to celebrate the 4th the way most Americans tend to: with libations! We went to the cafe we had first dined at upon arrival in Seville, as it had friendly service, decent wifi, and tasty tapas- a triple threat for a weary traveler! We reminisced our favorite sites and memories from our past 8 days, and laughed at our triumphs and blunders. Greg talked about his upcoming move and other future events he had to look forward to… or worry about. I talked about my next destination, and what I was most looking forward to… and worried about ;). It was a perfect way to relax and reflect on what we had accomplished and what was yet to come. 

  
We piddled about the hotel room for a while, packing and tidying up, and then went to the train station to help me feel comfortable with the walking route I’d have to take the following morning solo, and to activate my Eurail pass and purchase my first train ticket to my next destination: Córdoba. Before we knew it, our stomachs were rumbling again and it was time for our final siblings-only dining experience. Per the recommendation of our hotel receptionist, we went to a pizza place with a trendy and young vibe. We sat outside and enjoyed delicious thin crust personal pizzas and drinks. 

        
We started embarking on an evening stroll through the park beside the Alcazar gardens after dinner, but very unfortunately, Greg started feeling ill. We called it an earlier final night. Greg came down with a fever, not exactly what one wants to endure on an international flight home. Now that I’m penning this well past real time, I can explain that Greg actually suffered for over a week after his return home and lost nearly 9 pounds. His doctor said it was some kind of bacterial infection. Poor guy. He was a trooper and had us all quite worried. He is perfectly fine now and has reported to me that he happily gained most of the weight back on his second summer vacation trip with his wife’s family to Dominican Republic. Bacterial infection aside, I’m eternally grateful for the unforgettable, magical moments I got to share with my amazing big brother in Lisbon and Andalusia. It’s something we can tell our kids about when they think we are dorky and immobile, and it’s something I hope we can inspire our kids to do together one day. 
And in true smug sibling fashion, I’ll end this post with a Spanish 1 phrase Greg and I heartily enjoyed sending each other off with in high school: Adios feo! 

    
Stay tuned to find out how I fare on my solo adventure in Córdoba, Spain. 

Today was the day I had been eagerly awaiting since October! I remember it was recently after I had decided that a summer-long European adventure was just what the doctor ordered. I was reading an Entertainment Weekly magazine feature article on the filming of this season of Game of Thrones. Being a GOT fanatic, like most inhabitants of planet earth, I’ve dreamed of making pilgrimages to most GOT filming locations at home and abroad, so when I saw that a significant portion of filming took place in Seville, Spain at the mystifyingly beautiful Alcazar, I knew Seville had to be a destination on my tour de Europa. Every Sunday night when having my mind blown and my heart broken by R.R. Martin and HBO, whenever scenes from House Martell in Kingdom of Dorne would grace the screen, I would excitedly remind my viewing companions that I was going there this summer. Greg and I reminded each other via text every episode as well. So as you can now gather, I had created quite the hype around this visit to the “Kingdom of Dorne.” I’ll go ahead now and say that it absolutely did not disappoint and only delivered. 
   
   
The Alcazar was first largely constructed in the 11th century when the Moors gained control of Seville, but the palace gained its GOT-set-worthy grandeur once Pedro I set his sights on this property as a palatial haven during The Reconquest.  

   
    
   
When you enter through the arches into the gardens, the exotic, tropical beauty overwhelms you. Stone walls engraved with mythological figures and faces frame a seemingly endless quilt of gardens, each square a different blend of flora and fauna, delicately and precisely arranged. “Is this where the water garden scene was?” Greg and I questioned as we rounded every bend. Regardless of not knowing exactly which portion of the gardens was the location of the water garden scene, we strolled merrily through the palatial haven for hours, imagining Myrcella Baratheon/Lannister being courted by Trystane Martell, stopping only to smell the roses (literally) and capture a squawking peacock on film. We met a fellow GOT fan as we were piddling about near a gated fountain, and after enjoying a shared moment of fandom, she requested we take a GOT inspired action photo (evidence below). 

   
    
    
    
   
   
    
    
    
   
After our Alcazar afternoon, we walked to the Seville Cathedral that allegedly houses Christopher Columbus’s remains in addition to an incredible bell tower called La Giralda. The tower provides able bodied tourists with the best view of the entire city. Though unairconditioned, visiting the cathedral is a must. It’s truly a stunning piece of gothic architecture. Different chapels line the perimeter of the interior, each chapel gate and altar competing with one another for most ornate and gold-encrusted. Regardless of genuine authenticity, the sarcophagus that encases Christopher Columbus’s remains, or at least remain (some say it’s only a body part), is worth viewing. It’s kind of an eerie experience to see this tribute to America’s controversially celebrated discoverer.

   
    
    
    
    
    
 The climb to the top of La Giralda is not as strenuous a hike as other steps-happy towers because it is entirely ramps to the top. We can thank the original bell ringer for La Giralda’s somewhat easy accessibility, as he was handicapped, and therefore needed to take a horse to the top daily. Climbing to the top of La Giralda is another must-do in Seville, the views are unmatchable. Greg and I enjoyed locating all the sites we had seen, as well as our hotel’s rooftop pool from this bird’s eye view. In fact, once we spotted our hotel’s rooftop pool, we both immediately decided that it was time to retire the tourist hat for a couple of hours for a much needed submersion into water. Seville: though she be beautiful, she is scorching.

  
Our rooftop pool reminded me of what a Lego house rooftop pool might feel like: compact, colorful, with uneven, square levels . We could barely scamper across the stove-like pool deck without sandals. Upon initial submersion, it was sheer bliss. I think I may have emitted steam upon entering. Greg and I enjoyed some cocktails in the pool and met some interesting retired Americans from Detroit. It felt glorious to relax a bit and to take a vacation from the vacation, if you will. Touring and exploring are fulfilling and rewarding passions of mine, but relaxation days or hours in between are vital to my adventuring well being. 
For dinner we decided on a quintessentially European looking street, or lane I should really say, combed with cafe after cafe. We enjoyed another tapas meal, though Greg may have splurged for a burger here I think, and shared a bottle of vino blanco. After dinner, we walked off our food by getting a tad lost, but ended up finding ourselves in one of the liveliest squares of Seville, brimming with young, hip, and beautiful locals drinking under halos of street lamps, barricaded by open air cafes and bars. We stopped at one, really to use the bano, but got a drink as well. We are pretty sure the good looking young waiter who served us had a big fat crush on Greg. While I was in the bathroom and Greg was scouring our map, our waiter had flirtatiously greeted Greg and offered to walk him back to our hotel, seeing that Greg was lost. I don’t think he was pleased to see me join Greg at our table, but nonetheless he sent us complimentary shots and continued to shoot Greg smiles throughout our midnight cocktail. I teased Greg about breaking hearts in Sevilla until he could stand it no longer, and then we paid a different waitress and fled the scene unnoticed before Greg’s Sevillana Romeo could bat another eyelash.
Coming up: celebrating America’s birthday abroad with a patriotic run and another tower climb. 

Feeling the effects of excessive wine drinking and merrymaking, and being a fairly avid runner in the states, I awoke feeling the need to hit the pavement. Greg enjoys working out, but he isn’t thrilled by the prospect of running, especially on vacation. However, he graciously humored my pesky need for speed and sweat and laced up with me early morning in Granada for a farewell victory lap before embarking on our road trip to Seville. We jogged our way through the maze-like cobble stone alleyways, passing through small streets lined with delis, cheese shops, and fresh fruit stands. In the end, Greg was grateful for my run request. It really does allow you to see cities in a different, sometimes more intimate way. 
   
 We packed up and made our way back to our trusty steed where we once again hit the open Andalusian roads. Between singing along to Florence and the Machine and becoming overly excited about every sunflower field we passed, one of our random road trip rambles led to me mentioning my strong desire to see a tornado in my life time. Oddly enough, as we approached Seville, to the right of us off in the distance within an open plain, spun a skinny white cyclone winding up to the scattered clouds above. Greg was yet again weirdly calm, as I stuttered, “Wait… That’s a…tornado!” Greg looked back for a brief second, but respectably was far too concerned with navigating to care about any sidelining twisters. “Welp, dreams are already coming true for you in Sevilla Hans!” Greg exclaimed as we whizzed past my bucket-list natural wonder and barreled toward the airport to return the car. To our delight, the seemingly shrewd car rental attendant did not catch the scratches on the side mirrors during her inspection. Exhaling sighs of relief, we caught a cab to our hotel, Las Casas de La Juderia which was nestled within an ideal location in the Old Jewish Quarter. 

  
Our hotel was amazing! The main reception is separate from the other “casas” and the bellhop takes you through these catacomb-like caves to get you to the other sections of rooms. Our room was enormous with two charming balconies overlooking a damp and narrow alleyway lined with vibrant ivy and adorned with billowy bright yellow flags. It was quite a beautiful place.

   
    
  Our first Sevilla stop was for tapas and vino blanco (of course) at a nearby cafe. The streets of Seville are clean, open, and lined with inviting cafes. Beautiful people, young and old, pepper the sidewalks, and though this is probably not accurate, I felt as though there were more locals abound than tourists which provided heightened authenticity and flavor. After refreshing ourselves, we walked through one of the many beautiful parks in Seville, this one lined with a dirt path, palm trees, lush vegetation, and triumphant monuments to Christopher Columbus and Ferdinand and Isabel marking the middle ground. We strolled and admired, admired and strolled, until we reached Plaza de Espana, a stunning plaza that was once constructed in 1928 for a World’s Fair type of event called the Ibero-American Exposition of 1929, and has been featured in Hollywood blockbusters such as Star Wars and The Dictator. It was that bewitching time of day where the sun is melting into the horizon and the clouds begin to blush, the “golden hour” as Greg taught me they call it in cinematography and photography. This plaza is a must see. Framed by an almost orangey building with sky piercing spires and arching domes, the plaza is an open stretch of ponds and elegant bridges, with a stately fountain in the middle. Horse drawn carriages clip clop along the stone walkways, and rowboats lightly bob against each other in the side ponds. We took countless photos of the entire scene from every angle, trying fecklessly to capture the breathtaking beauty bathing in golden sunset light. Lining the plaza is a rainbow of mosaic stalls, each uniquely representing the various provinces of Spain. If you ever have the fortunate opportunity to visit Seville, be sure to visit Plaza de Espana, it will not disappoint you and you’ll quickly learn why it has been a coveted set for Hollywood directors. 

 For dinner we enjoyed, shockingly, tapas and vino blanco at a lovely tapas restaurant tucked away on a back plaza. We both decided we had already fallen in love with Seville. Seville possesses this pedestrian friendly, laid back, naturally gorgeous, traditional charm that won over my heart the moment we arrived. I guess I could say Sevilla had me at tornado.    
   
Stay tuned to read about frolicking in the Alcazar gardens, visiting Christopher Columbus’s remains, and journeying to the top of La Giralda!