The wasteland was the site of the Sevilla Expo 92. A huge area, now all but abandoned. Derelict fun fairs, weed-filled parks, dry fountains, and architectural follies. We walked for miles without seeing a single person. The train station is a ghost station. Automated announcements still call out to echoing stairwells and empty platforms.
Sad that the vast spaces once filled will noise and bustle now resemble a post-apocalyptic wilderness. There were a few splashes of colour though. Some flowering plants had run wild amongst all the concrete.
We then walked back into town and stumbled across a fantastically noisy parade. It was a riot of colour. It had taken over the streets. It was some sort of South American celebration; Bolivia, Ecuador, Peru were all represented. Dominica, Columbia, Chile too. The list went on. Colourful traditional dress, rapturous music and frantic dancing. It was fab.
And I danced with a person in a big fluffy polar bear outfit. The way you do.
We then had some tapas in a local corner and headed back home for a belated siesta.
In fact the siesta turned into a quiet night in. We decided to stop in and watch some films together. The week’s energetic itinerary having rather caught up with us. And we are not as young as we once were! Well, I’m not.
But you know what they say. Enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think.