92 Reasons to visit Seville

In working on an article for The Spain Scoop, I paid a visit to the Seville Tourism Board’s website. On the main page, to coincide with the World’s Fair in Seville’s 20th anniversary, the board proposes 92 reasons to visit Seville.

Among my favorites are things I enjoy about living here, like 88 (eat a montaíto de pringá), 74 (buy a flamenco dress),  55 (eat el jamón bueno bueno) and 58 (sleep a siesta). Then I remember the insane amount that I still have before me to do, like visit Doñana National Park, spot the Duquesa de Alba, see the Derbi between Mi Betí and Sevilla FC, walk el Rocío to Almonte.

I do think they gave up towards the end, as the last reason is, because you feel like it. So, so sevillano of you, VisitaSevilla. But who really needs to list 92 things to do in and around this glorious city whose history stretches back over 2000 years, whose sunsets are breathtaking and whose cuisine is tó lo bueno. Seville is more about feeling it and living it than seeing it.

Take a look, and tell me what’s on your Seville itinerary, or the reasons you’ve been here before. The Tourism Office hooked me up with this year’s Fiestas de la Primavera poster, and it can be yours if you’re chosen!

My Seven Super Shots

Maybe it’s just my love of Camarón or my quest to see Seville in new ways, but I was crossing my fingers I’d get to do the Seven Super Shots run by hostelbookers.com . Similar to the ABCs of Travel, this virtual game of tag centers around photography, which I am all to willing to admit to loving.

The gimmick is to examine the snaps you’ve taken and choose the best out of several categories. When reading a few others on my Google Reader, I already had mine mentally picked out.

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Volveremos a Primera, Real Betis Balompié

They say there are three great fútbol afficions in Europe: Barça, Real Madrid and Betis. The azulgrana is mighty, Madrid a heavy hitter and, um, Betis isn’t even in the premiere league.

Until tonight.

After a rough week, my friend Kim called to invite me to a game. Based on a points system (I swear these people must be economists), Spaniards make predictions on who will ascend to or, worse, be kicked out of the top tier of the Spanish League. Number of goals scored is more important than whether the game is won or tied, and the other Sevillian team’s nine points ahead of it’s next opponent as of the kick-off time made it clear that, with a win tonight and Celta’s loss to a strong Salamanca tomorrow, the return to primera was locked in.

In order to boost attendance at games, season ticket holders, called socios, can score extra tickets for only 15€. I grabbed the only green shirt I had (the other option was my lime-green shawl from Feria) and headed south to Estadio Benito Villamarín, home to the verdiblancos.

Roaring with cariño, the béticos waved their green and blue scarves while shouting insults at their crosstown rivals, FC Sevilla, and the night’s opponents, Tenerife. Once in our seats at the top end of the home section, we joined the fans dancing to theme songs, chants and dances. The line up announced, the béticos perched in their seats, Betis’s Casto delivered a clear shot into the net, and the béticos were on their feet.

I miss American football, namely watching Monday Night Football with my dad or drinking my first beer at 6am on Melrose Avenue in Iowa City. But something about my afición for my second city and its fútbol is starting to make me feel more at home.

The fútbol that night was a little bit soso, but Betis pulled out a win, and our return to the top division is secured. Fans rushed the field, diving onto the astroturf, waving scarves and flags, and taking pictures. I was rushed back to Kinnick stadium on game days, making me nostalgic and a little
bit homesick. But, I had to live in the moment. Volveremos a primera, Real Betis Balompíe!!

Futbol versus Faith

I’m home on a Thursday watching TV with the nov and his little brother. Kike is predictable: if it’s between 12 and 15h, the news is on. After, it’s Se lo que Hicistéis (a personal favorite of mine), then the animal documentaries while he naps.

We never watch TV at night together – we’re always either out drinking beers or I choose to watch American shows on the Internet. But now, we’re watching the news AGAIN and the sports section just came on. The Liga BBVA, who hosts the best soccer league in the world presumably, had a hard time deciding where to hold the Copa del Rey final to determine the league winner. Since the two most popular teams in Spain, Real Madrid and FC Barcelona, are scheduled to pit it out, the game can’t be held in their respective stadiums. These meccas, Bernabeu and Camp Nou, are also the largest in Spain.

So, where to do it? Sevilla’s Olympic Stadium, built for the 92 World Expo, was tapped.

The city of Sevilla’s reaction? Oh, no, you can’t do that here. Not on Jueves Santo.

The game is slated for April 20th, the day that all the famous processions take place during Holy Week, so clearly that is out of the question. Zaragoza, a large city between the two, will allow 35,000 lucky fans to see the game live.

Dude, Sevilla, you’re getting predictable.

Mucho Betis, eh!

They say there are three great fan clubs in the world of sports: Barcelona FC, Real Madrid and Real Betis Balompié. All Spanish football teams, though Betis is in the second tier of the league. Despite this, Er Betí is the team that people follow with devotion and continue to fill up their stadium.

José María is a socio, a season ticket holder, and he invited me to come as his guest to watch the Betis-Valladolid game. I had it clear that I would follow Betis, despite having lived in Valladolid for a short time in 2005. But whenever anyone asks what team I support, I can never really make a decision.

You have to understand that there are two teams in Sevilla. In one corner, in red and white, highly ranked Sevilla Fútbol Club in the Northern end. In the other, the verdiblanco of Real Betis. One has scored titles, cups and has a trademarked theme song. The other is full of cutres, frikis and very few pijos. I went with the underdogs this morning and met JM for the walk from our neighborhood.
Los verdiblancos were out in full force heading down to the stadium. There’s something like 95.000 socios throughout Spain and the stadium receives an average of 35.000 spectators per game. Once inside Estadio Ruíz de Lopera, a massive stone fortress named for the current president of the club, I got a glimpse of the afición bética: there wasn’t a single purple shirt in sight from the visiting team, young kids wore issued Betis get-ups and there were chants and claps echoed off every corner of the stadium. We sat in the 16th row, close enough to see the players sweat and curse at the ref under their breath.
At two minutes to 12, the rickety loudspeaker system announced Valladolid´s line up. Realistically, this game was supposed to be a top-tier game for the second division, as Valladolid has the highest number of points, followed by Betis. The eleven names were met with boos and whistles. When the verdiblancos took the field, the mascot, Palmera (name of the street the stadium is located on), took a lap around the field, provoked by olés after each players´s name. The fans on the south end of the field held up green and white flags and led the crowd in the hymn, various chants and hand clapping movements while the other fans twirled either their shirts or green and white scarves above their heads. Rolls of toilet paper fell around us as the kickoff started.
Now, Betis isn’t exactly a well-stacked team and didn’t play well in the first period, but the amount of noise made me think otherwise. The socios around me screamed SONOFABITCH every five seconds at the ref’s calls and stood up every time a ball rolled out-of-bounds or Betis was close to scoring. Zarzuelas sounded and every lull in play was met with a clamoring clapping sequence to animate the team.
Valladolid scored about 35 minutes into the first half, Betis soon after and again off a golazo header. I soon got bored with the game and decided it was more fun to watch a game in a bar with a beer in hand, but was impressed with the devotion to the team. Not a single person looked bored, not one didn’t let a commentary escape from their lips. I have yet to decide whether I prefer Sevilla to Betis or vice-versa, but for now, Viva el Betis manque pierda!!

CAMPEOOONES, CAMPEOOONES

OueOueOue! Little pulpito Paul has done it again and brought Spaniards together the way not even Los San Fermines can. I had to stand on my tip toes for 90 minutes plus an extra 30 before I got tears in my eyes watching my novio, Iker Casillas, hoist Spain’s first World Cup over his head. While I would have probably sold my little tentacled-friend en negro to be in Bernabeu in Madrid, I vuvuzuela’d along with the Coruñenses here in La Coruna and follow up the victory with a dip in the Cantabrian Sea, screeching and singing “We Are the Champions” as red fireworks were set off from the Riazor sports stadium around the bay.I sadly couldn’t finish the celebrations, as camp started this morning, but I feel more proud of this country than I have in a while. It’s become my anfitrona – my home away from home, my family away from family. Hoy todos somos Espanoles.

Celebrating in Sevilla after Sevilla tromped Germany


Everyone got into LA ROJA – even old ladies!


La Furia Roja after the champiosnhip win in Plaza Maria Pita, La Coruna


My stack of newspapers after the semifinals
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