Feria Festival and the Barber of Seville
Trip Start
Apr 12, 2006
1
12
115
Trip End
Ongoing
Seville, Spain
Monday, April 24, 2006
Found my Wayne´s World cap and attached it firmly to my rough head, conceding that i´d just have to sort it out when we get to Seville later in the afternoon. Made it up in time for breakfast, packed the gear, said goodbye to dudes, then Rev and i met Brooksy at local metro station, where i threatened him with retribution for the prompting of the haircutting by taking off one of his eyebrows in the middle of the night.
Rocked up to board our 2 1/2 hour fast train to Seville, and though Brooks found his seat fine in the next carriage, Rev and i soon found that our tickets were printed for the following month, May 24th, which left us in a spot of bother, and Brooks unassumingly on his way to Seville by himself. Sorted it out and got another ticket for the 2pm train, and went and got an sensational Bocadillo potato tortilla with an entire chorizo sausage wedged inside it. Tasty. Roamed the streets a bit, me keeping my eyes peeled for a hairdresser for an emergency fix up job. The 2pm train was a fine chance to recover on lost sleep, taking in the Spanish vista rapidly speeding by and powernapping for a good portion of the ride otherwise.
Meanwhile Brooks had arrived in Seville wondering what the hell happened to Rev and i, eventually meeting up again around 4.30 in Seville and zooming in on a crowded bus to out new hostel the Óasis´. I´ve gotta say, we´ve had the best possible run with hostels so far on this trip, and the Oasis was pretty much the finest yet - cheap, comfy, modern, with great facilities, a 6 story terrace view and very communal vibe. Entertained the staff upon arrival with my fresh mullet, became known as the mullet man, then promptly requested directions for the closest Peloqueria (haridresser).
The look on the face of the middle aged Spanish Barber, later aptly titled the ´Barber of Seville´, was priceless, as i walked up to his chair and unleashed the fury lurking underneath my hat. After initial shock and around 14 simultaneous sighs and shakes of the head, The Barber wielded some truly magnificent hairdressing professionalism, slicing and dicing, whisking my mullet away faster than Edward Scissorhands. Winding up with a haircut you could set your watch to, i walked out of there trying to find out where i sign up for the marines. Paul, an Irishman and hostel resident would later infer that i resembled Vinnie Jones, the roughead of Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels fame, though i felt i looked more akin to Tom Hanks in Forrest Gump. Stupid is is stupid does. Ahh, well, a story for the grandkids i suppose.
Purchased incredients from the local supermercardo and cooked up a fine dish at the hostel. Legend of my mullethawk had spread, with one girl recalling the witnessing of the mullet shaving back at Madrid, and another staff member also hearing on the grapevine of an intense mullet heading their direction prior to our arrival.
Seville is currently in full party mode, the whole place celebrating the annual ´Feria´, a huge flamenco festival with boozing, dancing, carnivale atmosphere and tents lined up from here to kingdom come jammed full of public and private parties and gatherings. We went down as a hostel group later on, i once again contributed to my impending liver transplant, but also got stuck into some traditional flamenco dancing with a local Senorita, though my skills were shite to say the very least and i no doubt embarassed myself. Chatted to a few locals about the abundant phenomena of mullets around these parts.
There was something very unique and very romantic about the Spanish flamenco traditional, almost spiritual in a way. The connection of the people taking part in the free flowing, impressive to watch dance totally won me over, even if i sucked at it completely. Infected by the mystique and beauty of the culture, we danced drunkely with arms flailing, trundling back to the hostel via some tasty churros, and crashing for yet another wonderfully enticing night in Spain.
Comments
Hairgringo
How very European male is the do...Hope you're keeping well my friend.
xo