Sevilla Feria - Comer, Beber, Bailar

It has been a while since I wrote, as I'm travelling. Now, are you ready for a long read?
Came across this recently...
'You can't control how some people treat you or what they say about you, but you can control how you react.

And on that note, I had made a firm decision to make peace with my neighbours, with whom I have had conflicts since arrival and have been referred to as the Joshua's Business (or Jehovah's Witness). Naughty me! While waiting to see Heloise and her grumpy husband Rastus, I asked the universe to show in all fairness who is talking within reason here, whether them or myself equally. It so happened that I did not come across any of the family, including their son when I wished to declare my state of peace in the hood. The next thing I heard was a lot of thumping of feet and movement in their apartment above mine, and then there was silence for the following evening. 'Great', I thought, they have left on holiday, bliss'.
However, the following day, as leaving the entrance hall to the house to go out, I noticed a patch of dampness spreading across the ceiling and immediately went on the phone, trying to contact them with no luck. Oh NO! There was no one home, and no contact number was left. Grrrrreat! Cancelling my weekend to York for Easter was necessary as I watched the patch spread by the day. There was no question of breaking into their flat, despite my solicitor's reassurance I actually had a right to do so. However, my plumber reminded me that the water control for their supply came from my basement and could be turned off! And so I did with a considerate note or two stuck to the neighbours' door, explaining the situation and asking them to contact me as soon as they returned.  

Two weeks passed fast, and only the day before leaving for my trip to Tehran, I heard a loud bang on the front door. I opened it to see Rastus standing with his son Brucie behind him. The father was shouting again! Right at me. 'Oh Dear', I thought, 'what now?' I was now being blamed for leaving a bag to collect the falling paint from the ceiling daily, he said:
"I can see the paint falling; you didn't need to put that bag there for me to see!"
'Que?' 'What?' Went through my mind while I looked at him in disbelief.
I simply told him how confused I was and asked why he did not throw it away!
So I continued: "Listen, please, I really want to live in peace here."
His son took my side, and the next thing this Jehovah's Witness started to tell his son to go up and get into a wrestle with him. So, I called the wife and said to them: "Listen to your son; he's the only one making any sense here."
He added, "I would like us to live in peace. Please forgive me if I've offended you in any way, and let's get on with our lives."

Thank goodness they took my word, and since there has been peace in the neighbourhood. I have no problem asking for forgiveness because I felt it was the other way forward, and they were civil enough to accept and move on. Since I returned from Tehran, the hallway has been repaired, and I had an enjoyable conversation with Heloise, which was great. They calmed down, realising it was about me being difficult here and asking for my rights. I added: "You can leave your trolley, your shoes and anything you wish in this hallway; I don't care any more." Now that is a lot coming from fussy me!

And you know what? I don't even notice that trolley any longer.

Now, let me return to my memories of my May trip to Marbella and Sevilla.
For some reason, my booking to Malaga was for Thursday, 1 May; however, when I tried to check in the Tuesday before, what was booked (by myself) read Wednesday, 30 April! Shoot. So, I began packing that afternoon, took till 3:30am (only one piece of luggage) and fell asleep through my alarm and the minicab ringing the doorbell for twenty minutes at 5:45am. Managed to wake up at 7:25am instead. Oops! I have only once missed a flight in Dubai, so I went online and tried to book a later flight. There was an underground strike and no taxi to take me to the airport for the next flight. Well, when it rains... It pours. Eventually, I managed the 17:40 flight that afternoon with a smile. All was fine.

The bus to Marbella from Malaga Airport was the most convenient. It ended up by cab, after 22:00 hour with a suitcase and a carry-on at the NAGA Thai restaurant where Lori, Sanchia, Aubella and a few other ladies finished their food. I ordered a mediocre curry, and we left shortly after to head to Lori's new place where I was staying.

Thursday, 1 May came, and I was already in Marbella! Lori had organised a Sevillana flamenco teacher, Millie, to come over almost daily to teach us the necessary moves, which was an absolute delight. Millie was what I would imagine a typical middle-aged Spanish lady would look like, yet when she danced with all the flairs a woman can behold, those hand moves and a confident attitude in her looks, she turned into a sex Goddess! Truly. The lessons were strict yet full of fun and laughter. Lori had already started her classes, and I had much to catch up with, which took work to achieve in four or five lessons. Oh well, one can only try. On that first day, Lori had found a lady who sold flamenco dresses in her workshop, and so Millie drove us for at least an hour to get there that afternoon in the heat. Three hours later, having tried everything and anything that fitted our bodies, my shopping consisted of another three flamenco dresses, and there was no recollection of how many Lori ended up buying, never mind all the accessories that went with each dress. At least Lori lived in Feria-land. We were only going to the Seville feria for three days and I already had three dresses made in Hoi An, Vietnam a month earlier for this occasion. All done now!

As it happened, an old friend of mine, Maggie, had also moved to Marbella. So we spent a whole day on Trocadero beach reminiscing on past memories of going to a Prince concert in Marbella's bullring with the Ex and other friends, the parties we organised there and regular visits to the Olivia Valère nightclub. It was lovely seeing her, and glad she got to meet Lori and her friends, as we can never have enough good buddies to add flavour to our lives. Victor's Beach was another destination we spent a couple of afternoons on, with a great DJ playing on Saturday afternoons, but the food was not much to write home about.  
The older a friendship gets, the more memories to share as our bond strengthens.

One Saturday evening, we were invited to the glam second anniversary of Glow Gym by Ivana, whom I met upon arrival at the NAGA restaurant briefly; she was like a Barbie doll. Accompanied by Lori and Sanchia, we walked into the white tent, champagne flowing, and soon Spanish musicians arrived on the scene, where we danced and left to La Sala, a bar absolutely packed with people, inside out. Did not stay long and headed home. Another lovely evening of drinks and canapés was spent at Maggie's delightful home, and it was generally a beautiful time in Marbella. With flamenco lessons at hand, the five dresses for the Feria packed in two suitcases as I was leaving from Seville on the way back home, we headed to our three-day destination of colourful times ahead; the Feria.

Sanchia was the designated driver, as she knew the road from Marbella to Seville only too well, and it took us just over two hours. Once we got to the apartment where the three of us were staying, we made a wholesome salad and began dressing up for the Feria. We had three days to try out only some of our many purchased outfits! Each Andalucian city holds a feria of its own, taking place every year at the same time, and Seville or Sevilla's is the most glamorous one, I had been told. People had gone out of their way to have the most stunning flamenco dresses tailored, and the men equally made an effort to turn up in their suits and ties. The sun was out, and the temperature was mainly in the early thirties. Once all was made up with the exaggerated hair, combs and flowers, large-size earrings, and other accessories to suit the costumes, we had the taxi waiting downstairs.

Ladies dressed up all over town.

Entrance to Sevilla Feria

Carriages of all kinds!

 


There were decorated Casetas at each side of the cobbled streets where carriages were pulled by horses equally spruced up with tassels of matching colours. To get into the guarded tents, we had to know the right people, which, thanks to Sanchia, we did. 
Her boss, an elegant elderly gentleman, got us into one of the grander pavilions and straight to the bar, ordering a jar of white wine and lemonade; well favoured at the Feria, Rebujito is what it's called with plates and plates of tapas. He chatted with us and then left us to enjoy the rest of our evening.
What I kept being told by the Spaniards at the fair was:
"The feria is all about 'comer, bever, bailar'!"
And that is 'eating, drinking and dancing'.

The Casitas

I was happy to leave my friends dancing and take walkabouts where I could do loads of people watching and taking hundreds of photos of everything that passed me by.

The night fell, and we moved to another case with more of Sanchia's friends, where  Lori seemed to thoroughly enjoy her newly acquired dancing skills, which she practised over and over with our friend, but I would have preferred to make my moves in the arms of a skilled male companion. There was so much distraction from good-looking people that I was happy to watch the dazzling crowd. So, unlike most festivals, I have attended them in the past few years!


Lori and I spent the second afternoon after our hairdressing appointment sightseeing this immaculately architectural city. Walking through the narrow pedestrianised back streets, so clean it was as though time had stood still after the last proper city clean up! It is clear why this Andalucian capital is so popular with tourists; the food they serve at most small tapas bars we tried in town was deliciously unusual and tasty.  

 

In the afternoon heat, a ride on the overpriced carriage of one man and one horse seemed the only way to travel through the park and main streets.     

 

A sneak inside a courtyard

A typical alleyway

Maria Louisa Park

From the ornate Seville Cathedral in its magnificent Gothic style to the Maria Louisa park, which went on as if in a city of its own, beautifully manicured with paths escaping the sun under the leaves of trees and flowers.

Within the park

Marie Louisa Park

On the second day at the Feria, Lori and I were well matched in the colours of orange, yellow and brown in full flamenco finery, hair done. Sanchia wore a classic black and white dotted number with a red bolero jacket.

After joining Sanchia's friends, mainly couples and children, my girlfriends left right outside the casita we were at and started dancing to the live band. I stood inside by the bar observing when a smiley gentleman with a glass of beer at hand approached me and began speaking in full-blown Spanish. It is rather strange how my language flourishes when need be! 

Pablo introduced himself and began telling me of his career in the army before offering his hand for a Sevillana dance. My dance moves were well on the way to improving by the minute. Pablo's friends standing by the bar seemed well impressed!   After a song or two and noticing the guy's wedding band,  I joined my friends and moved to another case (tent). The Feria begins after midday and finishes in the early morning hours. The crowd changes as the children swap their places with the teenagers as nightlife begins. It was all in full swing every time we left around 2am, but wearing espadrilles with hills could have its toll on a girl's feet.

On our last day of the Feria, Aubelle had decided to join us from Marbella. So, she arrived at the flat by midday, and the same chaotic routine began of girls getting ready to spend more festive times together. As Lori and I had been on our city tour, we had decided to stop at the Alfonso XIII Hotel for a bottle of bubbly before heading to the Feria. I wore one of the flamenco dresses in white and large blue dots, which was made for me in Hoi An, Vietnam. Where else?! Haha.

The lobby of Alfonso XIII Hotel

We left the hotel early evening in daylight to look for a taxi to head to the Feria, with little success when a proper carriage with two men in bowler hats riding it asked if we liked a lift on the bridge at the traffic light that we attempted to get on the carriage with our fancy, long and tight dresses. How much fun that was! I sat with my back to the carriage drivers, next to Sanchia, without noticing the boys. Taking in all the blessings God sends our way and now, a carriage to take us to the Feria! As Cinderellas to the ball. How amazing is that? At this moment, I noticed the girls giggling over the hottie dude riding the carriage behind me. As he turned our way to say something, I looked back up to see what they were talking about and was immediately taken by his cute looks and smile, so I said (in 'my' Spanish):
"Que guapo es!"  As in, 'How cute are you?!'

Antonio's (not quite Banderas, but close!) smile grew more expansive, and I presume he must have looked straight down my cleavage, sitting high on his seat. It never ceases to amaze me how easily distracted men get at a split between two firmly-skinned balloons! Oh well, each is on its own. So, we began flirting openly as I jokingly scratched his firm back with the sound of a tiger. The flute or two of champagne had done wonders, and the girls laughed aloud. The boys rode around the Feria and offered to take us to the back stables to discard the carriage and then drive us to the fair afterwards. Lori amazingly recalled being taken to the same ground where the horses were kept. The only other time she visited the place was in her early twenties. Here she was, repeating the same history!  

Outside the Feria

Once through the guarded entrance, we were let out of the carriage in the compound, where the boys got busy dismantling the carriage and taking the horses into the stables. We were feeling peckish, and there was a sizeable private tent with a bar and food being served where we headed. Food was the last thing on my mind with all the excitement, so when Antonio, who had told us he was also a matador, entered the tent and, after another Sevillana dance with me, asked if I would like to look at the horses with him. Sure, I thought, and he took me by the hand in my highly platformed sandals on the uneven ground, and we went out into the darkness, lit by the lights of the funfair close to the Feria. The horses looked stunning earlier in the day, shining in their velvety skin under the sun, but seeing their head hanging out the stables in the dimmed lighting outside was not as impressive. Then Antonio showed the way into another large tent with a royal carriage hidden in the enclosed area, and he asked if I would like to try it out. Yes, again, was the obvious reaction. As I sat in the back seat of the carriage, waving to the empty space outside, he joined me for some cheeky fun and laughter.  

Next, we were given a lift by Antonio to the Feria and went on to join Sanchia's friends again, from one case to the next. More comer, never, and bailar until late again before heading back to the flat for a short rest and catching my flight back from Sevilla to Gatwick.

I am not taking any part of my life lightly. My life is my fantasy!  
To some, I live in a bubble, one filled with happiness. I keep away from anything that makes me sad, be it the news or unkind words and gestures; they are unnecessary and definitely from any criticism; they are only another person's perception of how they wish to see me; that is their choice.  

Angkor Wat & Tonle Sap - Cambodia

'Be happy not only because everything is good but because you can see the good in everything.'
Life is an illusion of what we make it out to be. During a few hours of intense conversation with Aubella, we discussed how to change and reverse the discontented conditions we come across daily into a better day and tomorrow. I was so glad to hear our chat had changed her outlook more positively. We all seek happiness, finding ways to get there in a manner you will never want to return to any other state of being, which is the goal of authentic living.

Back to Cambodia and Siem Reap...
Every time I hear of the city of Siem Reap, the temples of Angkor Wat are associated with it, and boy, did I find out why!  
The French Indochina was formed out of Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos in 1950, with puppet rulers governing each state until the Geneva Conference of 1954, when absolute independence was felt. This sounds now, but I was just reading my notes from my guide, Nak, on the importance of the Strait of Malacca as the busiest sea route in the world. He mentioned that a third of the world's transportation is through this route; hence, control of it means control of the South China Sea. As I googled it now, that is where the missing aeroplane from Kuala Lumpur, which incidentally happened the same Friday 7 March evening I was flying back from Singapore to London, was last traced changing course and travelling West over the Strait of Malacca. Who really knows?!?

The sunsets and sunrises by the site of Angkor Wat were genuinely magnificent, and crowds gathered to take photos of each slight movement of the sun by the second. Even getting to the site by 6:00am was not early enough not to face walls of people walking the bridge as pilgrims who had waited long to be there. Now, here we all were, watching the scene silently and in awe.

Sunset opposite Angkor Wat

King Suryavarman II was responsible for constructing Angkor Wat early in the 12th century until he passed away, with others following.

Crowds awaiting the sunrise

Sunrise at Angkor Wat

I lost Nak as he left me amongst other visitors, awaiting the sun to rise as though it were waking in its glory behind the Angkor War.  


After the photo shoots, I realised my guide was nowhere in sight, and in all honesty, I found it bliss to be going around such grandeur of holy grounds, where I felt like a child in a playground—content.

Although the building was only three floors from the Temple and 65 metres high, there were many steps to climb.
Walking from room to room with high ceilings, I came across colourfully decorated Buddhas with fabrics and ornaments. Gorgeous!
Just as I was wandering around aimlessly, a school of Cambodian children came up the many steps to where I stood on top of the Temple. I followed the youngsters and their older lady companions and stood close enough to zoom the lens of my camera towards them while they were not watching, just not to be offensive. The children seemed so happy exploring the different corners of Angkor Wat.
I left them thinking, now I have been lost for a while, better get back, a group of men and women dressed in the (what I assume was) National Cambodian clothes and large, old-fashioned cameras with pods in hand, going to probably a photo shoot, so I followed them. Like a child in Disneyland, I was over the moon with the thought of being so blessed in every way.

Peace & a smile is all we need ... indeed.

Getting ready for a photoshoot

The walk back from the Temple

Finally, with all the hundreds of photos safely at hand, I walked back to the bridge just outside the Temple and pretended to be quite upset that my guide had not done his job well by losing me right at the start of the tour. Seeing him standing outside the gates with a grin, I looked ahead and simply walked off as he kept calling my name. No sign of mercy there; he ran behind me; I stopped and simply said (angrily, I may add):
"You lost me right at the start of the tour this morning. I'm very upset, so I will keep quiet, or I may say things to regret later. So take me to the car, please, in silence!"
We rode back to Shinta Mani Resort without a word; I got off and left the car as Nak said:
"See you at two this afternoon, Haldita."
As a rule of life, I do my best not to keep anger within. It is poison, and never mind being on holiday, I choose not to hold grudges. They serve no purpose, but they do not push my buttons.
Mmmm ...  I like the new me! Haha.

After another lavish breakfast and a couple of hours in the sun by the pool, it was time to shower and be ready for yet another marvel of this city to be discovered. My arrival outside the hotel entrance was somewhat past two in the afternoon, however, Nak and our driver Mr T were outside waiting. As we drove off, I voiced my disappointment. I questioned whether an apology was in order, and Nak obligingly offered to do so and informed me of our boat ride that afternoon on Tonle Sap (the largest lake in Cambodia and one of the largest in the world) to visit the floating villages. The fishermen's houses along the water were built high from the ground due to the numerous floods between July and October.

Children playing in the lake water

Although the lake is located only 55 km outside of Siem Reap, the long drive there and back left me somewhat restless, and I could not wait to get back to shower and meet the two lovely sisters I had met getting on the plane to Cambodia for dinner at AHA restaurant. Pub Street is where the evening action is meant to take place, and indeed, it was a super busy pedestrianised street filled with vendors and tourists. 

Another restaurant I was recommended and visited was Sugar Palm. The forty-minute wait for the Amok fish to be prepared was too long to endure, so I opted for the fish curry, which was the most delicious one I have tasted to date. That was my last dinner alone, thank goodness, as I was beginning to get bored of my own company for so long.  
Other leisurely enjoyments in Siem Reap were the stone massages and the wrap at my hotel's wonderfully peaceful spa. A spot of retail therapy at the shops next to Shinta Mani, one in particular owned by a trendy French couple, where the lady convinced me effortlessly to purchase many of their designed and manufactured wraps, earrings, and God knows what else at just one boutique.

Everyone who has been to Cambodia recalls memories inevitably involving the ever-smiling and amiable Khmer people. My flight from Siem Reap to Singapore and London went flawlessly. I got home with incredible scenes memorised of special moments spent on my two-and-a-half-week voyage of discovering Vietnam and Cambodia.

Next will be my last visit to Marbella and the Seville Feria ...  Hasta luego amigos! 

Siem Reap... Buddha-Land

'No man can know happiness without peace'.
Peace only comes when we deal with issues that take up space in our minds. We cannot afford to waste them, as time is short, and it is wise to let go of matters that will only be forgotten in time anyway. But do not leave behind those who have left on their spiritual journey; they will be beside you whenever you think of them and give you their support whenever you ask.
'To my Darling Friend Guilda, my thoughts are with you on your hours of grief'.

March 2014 - My visit to Siem Reap began with a similar order of a guide and driver waiting at the airport to drop me at the hotel Shinta Mani Resort in a central area of town. As I arrived at nightfall, the entrance was grand, with white walls, high ceilings, and dimmed lighting to give it an ultra-modern look, also lit by an alley of candles set on the floor by the columns. Quite impressive! The young man on duty who showed me to my room was pleasant and informative, giving the experience a most welcoming star. As usual, I dropped my case in the spacious room with a balcony overlooking the pool and asked the concierge for the closest restaurant of repute, so he recommended Chanrey Tree and a tuk-tuk for the short ride to get there.  

My guide Nack had asked whether I would prefer to rest in the morning (as my cold sounded relatively serious with a chesty cough in order) and go to the Jungle Temple, as he called it; later in the day, I insisted on leaving as scheduled and asked for a wake-up call at 5:00a   The hotel organised little croissants and tea/coffee at the entrance lobby, as it was the norm to leave at dawn to watch the sunrise at the temple   We drove as the light separated itself from darkness, as though the sky had parted in two, before dawn and reached the Ta Pomh Temple, left to be ravaged by the jungle of overgrown roots of tree   Starting that early, the morning mist added to the eeriness of the atmosphere, which somewhat felt belittling, walking as a small creature amongst such giant, overgrown nature.

Nature defies all

 

The fact that barely anyone was around so early added further enjoyment to the solitude. I asked Nak to leave me in a cornered area of the walled temple to meditate as the sun began to shine through the mystic surroundings. We walked through the grounds, and a handful of visitors entered as we were leaving. To have been able to spend a good few moments left all to myself was bliss.

I was dropped back at the hotel by 8:45am, ready to head straight into the self-service of a beautiful breakfast set by the pool, enclosed by the hotel room. I had until 15:00 hour to enjoy the sunshine and a swim, with a light salad lunch before the afternoon pick-up for the next tour.

View from my room at Shinta Mani.

I showered and wore the long, loose pants bought in Hoi An in thin cotton with a shawl over my black t-shirt (a simple rule of respect to be dressed appropriately. We drove off to Angkor Thom, the last city of the Khmer Empire; it ran from 800 to 1400 and, at the height of its wealth and power, was thought to have supported a population of one million people. The fortified city, which runs at 4km x 4km, is accessed through one of five gates, standing 20 metres tall and decorated with stone faces and elephant trunks. The most impressive was the Byron, a creative masterpiece of its architect, King Jayavarman VII, one of that era's most forceful and productive kings.

South gate entrance to Angkor Thom

Back entrance from within the walls

108 statues; 54 on each side represent Gods on the right and Demons on the left.

The Byron is set in the middle of the 4kmx4km grounds.

Carvings on the walls represent the activities of the time.

The site was mesmerising with the 216 strikings, smiling enormous faces reminiscent of the king himself. Although I was listening to Nak (my guide) explain the history behind such magnificence, my mind and visual experience were far more enriching than any words said at the time.
We walked for hours in the heat, which had somewhat died down in the early hours of the evening. The clicking of my right finger on the camera was hitting well into the hundreds.

Buddha - May your smile be contagious!

The last part of the visit was the grand Terrace of the Elephants, where public ceremonies of the Khmer Empire were held. Standing there, I could imagine the Khmer kings reviewing vast processions of infantry, chariots, and elephants elegantly braced sadly to go to war; still, it was a grand vision.

Goodness, I am so behind with my blog writing! Yet, I am disciplined in putting my thoughts in the right order. I just got back from an Amazing trip to Seville and simply can't wait to write about it.  
I still have to finish Cambodia next, though, later today. 

My conclusion about going on trips alone compared to those that involve the company of friends is that I choose my friends as the experience becomes so much more meaningful. Yet, I am super happy to have gone so far in the East alone, as it was exactly what I needed to do.

So, I end this blog with a salute to all my wonderful companions who brought so much enlightenment into my life.