25 May 2009
We booked our 20-day stay at "Las Suites del Maestro" from Monteverde, Costa Rica. Ingrid did all the "leg work" over the internet and it was challenging. We definitely wanted an apartment because we needed more space than we would have in a hotel and for a stay this long we needed to be able to prepare our own food. Finding something that met our various requirements -- internet connection, two bedrooms, quiet, but centrally located, and not too expensive -- took some real effort.
The apartment is located on H. Colon, less than a block north of the Cathedral, in the absolute heart of Sevilla. The opening picture shows our street. To the left of Ingrid is a small black guitar symbol that is at the head of a small alley. In the next pair of pictures, you see what we do when we look down the alley. There, at the end, is the tiniest sign one can imagine announcing your arrival at "Las Suites."
You enter the building by punching a code on the security system. Open the door and enter a small foyer decorated in Mudéjar style. In front is a small staircase and elevator leading up to the two floors above. Each of the three levels has two doors; in all there are six apartments. A huge mirror decorates the wall opposite the elevator/stairway side.
Come into our flat, on the second level. Notice that it is quiet and oh so blue. The natural lighting is rather dim with small windows that open onto interior courtyard and alley space all around. The kitchen occupies one end of the long entry room. My workspace is next. Above my computer is a lovely blue (of course) lacquered platter intricately ornamented. Further on is the small living room with a sofa and a large coffee table that serves as our dining table. The two bedrooms and the bathroom are accessed by means of doors on the wall opposite the entry.
The best things about this place have definitely been the location and -- given its centrality -- the remarkable quietness inside. Eating here has also worked out well. Although the kitchen is small, it is functional. Breakfast: espresso coffee and bread with jam. (After two weeks, we finally discovered first-rate bread; the trick was getting to the supermarket early before they sell out.) Lunch: smoked salmon sandwich or a salad or an egg/potato/tomato concoction. Some combination of Ingrid, Daniela, and Dana cook dinner most nights, which is usually a hearty vegetarian and legume stew. Their cooking is terrific and we've not been impressed with the restaurant food the few times we've been out.
A lot is made of the late hours in Spain. Start work at nine. Siesta from 1:30 to about 4:30 PM. Finish the work day about 7 PM. Dinner never before 9 PM. All of that actually works here because Spain's clock is on central European time even though its longitude makes that almost two hours too late. So, now, in late spring, the sun doesn't rise until after 7 AM and it sets at about 9:30 PM. The midday siesta time also makes sense for coping with the summer intense heat (which is very much not an issue in May, however) and also compensating for the late nights out. (Daniela and Dana are making a careful study of this important dimension of Spanish life.)
So, mostly, this place has been a fine base for our stay in this fascinating city. I do, though, have three not-so-small gripes. (1) There is a streetlamp just outside our apartment that glares into the living room and our bedroom with a bright yellow light all night long that can only be softened but not extinguished with our thin blue curtains. (2) It is warm enough that we need to have the screenless windows open at night. Mosquitoes here are not numerous, but they are ravenous feeders. The remarkable thing, though, is that the bites itch like crazy immediately but for only a few hours afterward. Disturbs sleep and leaves no lasting trace! Ingrid thinks I dream these bites but I'm sure they happen! (3) Some weird aspect of the internet system in this building causes me to lose access whenever the manager (Alexis, a man from Dominican Republic who loves the LA Dodgers) is here with his laptop plugged in. He is around most weekdays during most business hours, a surprisingly long time for a building with only six rental units.
In addition to being happy to see Alexis and feeling most welcome in her German family's home, I have two dominant senses -- one internal and one external -- from our first day in Hamburg. The internal one, rather natural at the end of a long period of travel, is that I'm ready to return home. I've enjoyed our time away, especially this period in Europe. The travels have been enriching. Working on the road has been okay, but not as productive as when I'm in my home environment. And, while a break from being intensely productive was probably necessary, I've already realized the benefits of the break and am ready to get back to work fully.
The external impression is that the light is dim here, today. It is pretty stunning to consider, but the sky we've lived under has been blue with only one or two exceptions throughout our time in Mallorca and Sevilla. When there were clouds, they were large fluffy white ones. The skies were bright and the landscape aggressively illuminated. Even for my few days in Denmark, although it rained at the beginning, mostly it was brightly sunny.
Today, in Hamburg, for much of the day the sky was heavily overcast. And even when the sun came out, and it did, it seemed to lack the power I felt from it in Spain. Maybe it is the dark waters of the Alster or the green grass in its parkways. Or maybe the feeling comes from the street trees that are in full leaf, so that the sidewalk on Rothenbaumchausse seems only dimly lit, even in midday. Or maybe it is none of these thing so much as the contrast with southern Spain. Whatever the source, this is the external sense that dominated my impression of this day.
