Toros

We are wrapping up our stay in Seville.  Our wonderful, relaxed, sun-drenched sojourn in Seville. We've been filling our days with churros, tapas and late wake up calls.  Yesterday we went to the beach in Cadiz and Cal was thrilled as there was a sandy bottom and minimal waves.    I can see why so many Brits want to expat it here. It is wonderful.

After three attempts to get to the Cathedral, I finally made it on Monday.  My first visit was thwarted by Corpus Christi. It was last Thursday which was the thursday following the eighth Sunday after Easter.  Parades, store closed, bells, military bands, leading an icon through the streets, huge silver candelabras and large amounts of greenery and rosemary thrown on the street for the procession to pass over.  The whole city smelled like a roast. My next visit was stymied by Sunday afternoon services.  I was nearly thrown out again when I arrived on Monday only to realize that the church was closing early.  I only had 45 minutes to enjoy.  Plenty of time.

Gold covered altar in Seville Cathedral

I can see why the church has so many processions and parades.  They have so much stuff to show off! The inside if the Seville cathedral is like walking into the Isabella's treasury when all the ships returned from the Americas. It is the world's largest Gothic cathedral and the 3rd largest church after St Peter's in Rome and St. Pauls in London. There is a huge altar made entirely out of silver and an immense wooden altarpiece covered in gold that was the craftsman's life work.  It forces you to look heavenward as it ascends into the the roof of the cathedral.  Christopher Columbus' tomb.  All sorts of treasures.

But the loveliest spot was the orange grove right outside the cathedral.  A holdover  from the mosque that was previously built on the same spot. It has fountains to cool and wash your hands and feet and an irrigation system built into the stone so that all the orange trees are watered. 

On Sunday, Blake and I went to a bullfight.  A real live, 3 matador, the death of 6 bulls bullfight. The arena in Seville is the oldest in Spain, built in the late 1700's.  Unless it's Easter week or a religious festival, the fights are often on Sunday. It starts at 7:30.  Promptly, as we found out. Probably the only thing in Spain that starts at the appointed time. The stadium was about half full. Families, little kids, old men who have seen a lot of these things, older women ready to throw flowers at their favorite matador, young women with their cell phones ringing in their purses. The trumpets sound.  The door opens and the bull storms in.  They are magnificent.  Over 1000 lbs each. Sleek and muscular with a blue or red ribbon affixed to their necks like they were at a county fair.

The matador's and his assistants come out distract and test the bull to discover what kind of bull he is before they mortally wound him and get close enough to pet him. Is he a pawing the earth kind of bull?  Does he throw his head back after he goes under the cape?  Does he trot?  Does he charge?  One matador, the best one, went down on his knees and held the cape out to his side as the bull charged at him from 75 yards away, full speed.  He did this 4 times!  It is hard not to be impressed by the kind of courage it takes to do that.

Then they bring out the blindfolded horses.  If they weren't blindfolded, they'd never do it.  These horses are covered in thick blanket of padding and they withstand a charge from the bull as the picadores stick a lance in the shoulder of the bull and wound him. The wound is deep and the amount of blood is profound. Prior to 1930 the horses didn't have any protection and they were often killed as many times as the bull.  The sound of that bull hitting the side of that unknowing horse was not pleasant.

Then three bandarillos come out and run at the bull while the bull is charging at them and try and jab two barbed sticks into their shoulders and then jump out of the way.  The vital piece of info here is while the bull is charging at them. Not easy when the span of their horns is about 3 to 4 feet.

Then the matador comes out with a sword and red cape that has a length of wood along the top to keep it stiff.  The whole aim of the event is to get the bull to come as close to him as possible, without moving too much.  The matador wants to have the bull in his control before he sticks a sword between his shoulders and hopefully into his heart with one thrust.

The event was like watching a snake charmer hypnotise a python.  Except the phython isn't 1000 lbs and bleeding to death and cannot charge at the charmer.  And the matador is armed. But beyond that, I can see why people are devoted to it.  It was thrilling and hypnotic.  The matador gets so close to that bull. And the crowd is glued to every move. With every pass they exhale along with the matador. And when the matador displays mastery over that wild creature, you cannot help but shout ole.

To see a video check out http://www.plazadetorosdelamaestranza.com/index.php/videos