Pióro

So our lonely planet has been helpful, don’t get me wrong… it’s just that I’m not so sure about their idea of a shoestring budget. Either that, or the prices have gone up in the past year. We haven’t had much success, or enjoyment out of the places that the book recommends, accommodation and mostly food wise (they’re pretty good at suggesting an itinerary, the obvious places to hit). But maybe this is a good thing, as we have had lots of enjoyment when we find something on our own, or through word of mouth.

Such as when we finally got instructions to the good restaurant in Lisbon by the French speaking construction worker… lto Minho… where the food, which was all ordered for us by our friend who knew what we should eat better than we did, was incredible. When the bill arrived, we had to do a double take as we were sure that there was no way it could be right, or that maybe the rest of the bill was coming later…

Or Flamenco for instance.

We were inundated with advertisements for Flamenco shows in Seville, but the price just wasn’t right, though it did sound like fun.

So, when we heard about the free Flamenco shows at a local bar, we were all over that… problem was, we couldn’t find the bar. Many people had been there, but usually after a lot of drinking, and if you’ve been to the old city, the streets can confuse even the most sober directionally-enhanced people. On our last night in the city, we hooked up with some Canadians from our hostel (see: This just in: Canadians are the new Australians), who had been there already, and we managed to find it without too much difficulty. The sets may have been a little short, but the performances were genuine, and the price was right! Flamenco is something to see. We sat right up close, were you could really see the expressions… so serious… almost angry, or painful… very passionate… not really supposed to be funny, but for me was on the verge of farce as I kept picturing an inebriated Tim Wilbur up on stage.

The bar was something too, a good mix of locals, tourists, young and old. And on the back patio, which felt like one I’d been to in Montreal, we reminisced about College street (see: This just in: Canadians are the new Australians), and felt a little silly.

We were very happy to have met our fellow College/Dufferinite though, as when discussions turned to Granada, it was she who told us about Rambutan…