You know it’s been raining because there are oranges everywhere – smashed and whole, they sit soggy on the streets and sidewalks. Sevilla is even less prepared for rain than Santa Barbara, if that’s possible, and the calles estrechas become rivers and it’s more likely than not a car will drive in a puddle and get your pants wet. It’s impossible to walk my 30-minute walk and stay dry.
But Seville needs its water, so we all bear it. It’s just really serious about its rain. When it rains, it rains nonstop all day. When it doesn’t, it’s sunny, without a cloud in the sky.
There have been better nights to walk halfway across town to see a concert. But what a concert. Only in Spain. A very British man that spoke perfect Spanish to the crowd, but sang in English; and a very British man that didn’t speak a word of Spanish save “Gracias” and sang in English. It was British pop, recommended to a friend by the owner of an indie record store in the area. Though I’m not used to seeing bands with keyboards instead of drummers, it was very enjoyable. One of my favorite bands is playing in Madrid in a couple weeks, but it’s the same weekend the magazine I’m working for is taking us to Morocco for free…tough break.
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3 comments:
LIndz:
Your post title reminded me of something. For my journalism interview, they asked me what my favorite joke was, and thinking quickly of you and the only joke I like, I was going to tell the "Orange you glad" knock knock joke. But I messed up, and after only the first knock knock, i said bannana. I quickly told them that I messed up, and they laughed anyway. Oh well, guess it doesn't matter now, since i did get in journalism!!
I yam . . .
Wow. I thought that was Paige Matthews for a moment and was terribly confused.
Way for the Millers to become a bigger dynasty than either the Reeds or the Petersons. Huzzah!
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