Seville service

Q: What's better than not being Spanish?

A: being Spanish! (alternative: being a Spanish billionaire!)

If Don Quixote were here beside me (for he never wanders far from me, his e'er faithful Sancho Panzola) he'd beg me on his grande el torreador knees to wail about the delicious tapas I had at a veggie bar called Habanita in El Centro this afternoon. Indeed, if Miguel de Cervantes were alive today, he'd almost certainly change his name to Miguel de Cerveza - cuz 'los beerskis' here are deep 'n' delish! I mean with 1.50eu for a bottle of la agua ambrosia you got nada da complain about.

The wonders of Seville, they stretch beyond the millions, well into the Sevillions! So call the wedgie doctor cuz I gotta wicked case of Pic asso!

And then there are los mandolinos (as I call them) the Spanish guys who wait outside restaurants playing guitar, acting all crooner-like and those annoying women who sell rosamarina outside the cathedral to stupid tourists like me - such local colour, or il colore muy loco as the Andalucians says with their inimitable zesty verve for all things vivacious and gesticulatory.

Oh my Goya!

1 comment:

Herself said...

this reminds me of a joke about g.w.bush: he was informed about four brazilian soldiers who died and he cried and the cabinet was stunned he cared until he spoke, "how many is a brazilian?" har.