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A magia di u mumentu, Siviglia

Publicatu: 13.02.2020

After a few days of rest and only time with myself, I leave for Seville at 9 in the morning.

During the journey, I notice the bus driver getting sleepy, he seems tired. I have had a similar trip in Chile before, which lasted not 3, but 18 hours and was truly breathtaking in every way.

As I get off the bus, I could have crossed myself, happy to have arrived at my destination safely and without any incidents.

I take my backpack and leave the bus terminal, sit in the sun and have a smoke. Back in the middle of life, I am happy to be here again after years. After fifteen minutes, I take a taxi and go to the hostel, which is centrally located right by the Metropol Parasol, also known as "Las Setas", an observation deck in the center, designed by a German architect.

From the terrace of the hostel, I realize fifteen minutes later that there is a direct view of the Mushroom, as it is called, because of its shape.

After unloading my things, I sit in the sun on the terrace and talk to a Chilean who is also in my room. He is from Santiago.

This place is exactly right now, although I briefly considered if it would be too much for me after the days alone, but I realize that the contrast is good for me and I like it.

Life pulsates, words flow as if they were under a silent retreat. It almost comes close because I only spoke when I went shopping or sporadically sent a voice message.

After a long conversation, I go downstairs, out of the hostel, across the plaza and straight to the Mushroom to get an overview.

I take the elevator up. Arriving at the top, after the first steps, I notice a slight balance irritation. Do other people feel the same here? Maybe. It goes around in a circle. I take my time and enjoy every view, which is fantastic and abundant in every direction from up here.

How beautiful and light the feeling of this orientation makes itself felt in the body.

It is an arrival on all levels, which is very different from the arrival in Atltanterra by the sea, but carries its own beauty. How different arrival feels and yet fulfills the same longing, which is fulfilled in you as you breathe in the newness with all your senses.

Places call you, speak to you and invite you to live them. They let you see them with your own eyes and from your own perspective, even from their perspective, and hardly do you notice this, you are in the middle of their life rhythm, which becomes yours and to which you also contribute a piece of your own. It is the mixture of both that makes up the overall feeling and takes you on another journey in your own while you have never tasted or experienced anything before. It is a rich gift because a journey also begins and takes place in you, whose content and effect settle in you with every look and let you perceive the outside world anew. The colors you give to it are in your hands and depend on your mood and your willingness.

I let my gaze wander over the rooftops and into the distance and enjoy the warmth of the sun, which now lies over the city.

Seville welcomes me this afternoon with a sunny smile, which flows through every vein of my body with its kindness and warmth and gives me the hand to encounter it in its streets.

Later, back at the hostel, I spend a nice evening on the illuminated terrace, between the illuminated houses and the Mushroom. There is food, music, and many people to talk to in the center of Seville, where my spirit now rests and enjoys and absorbs all the vibrant impressions. Languages know no limits, encounters immerse themselves; not only in words but also in lots of laughter; the yellow of the infinite city - night embraces the sequences of these unique moments.

In the following days, I do a lot with Sol, a Peruvian who is also in my room, and with the Chilean. The two acrobats from Barcelona, traveling with their mother, quickly join us when we occupy the terrace in the evening.

All people whose language is traveling itself.

With Sol, I walk to Plaza de España, have paella, sit in the sun at Alcazaba, and talk to her for hours, let myself drift, to the Puente de Triana, from here to there, accompanied by the magic of the moment that has brought us together in this city and flamenco.

I also go to Tres Mil Viviendas/ Barriada Murillo, away from tourism and in the midst of the reality of the Gitanos who live here and have given flamenco its true identity. It reminds me of the suburbs in Santiago, although it is completely different, but the poverty is the same. Here you can feel and breathe that authenticity that cannot be found in the colorful and ancient streets of the city center, with every step and look deep into the heart.

Although only the garbage and some laundry are colorful here, a rainbow of a hundred colors can be found in every melody that is sung here and immediately yearns under the skin.

Seville embraces me, lives me, sings for me, and every morning and evening, its face, which consists of this diversity, and whose soul reflects the heart of flamenco in every sunset with its moods, bends down to my gratitude of being here.

Infinite and timeless, different from Granada, a bit like at the Atlantic, and sometimes like in Cadiz with Ana, Melek, and Yousra, and then again like in the beginning in Malaga when I saw the first sunset on Christmas evening, the magic of the moment perpetuates in me as I once again perceive the sun saying goodbye to the city with a view of the Triana Bridge, and each time there is something different in its goodbye. This is the moment that always reveals a delicate humility with every breath.

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