We located the proper entrance around the corner on another side of the building. Like all public buildings in Spain, and especially where tourists go (including the cathedral!!) there were a security guards in evidence. They indicated that because I had a backpack (cameras, sunglasses, hat, etc.) I could not enter, and should place it into a locker in an adjacent room. Many people were milling about in front of the lockers, all looking equally perplexed at how they could get to use the lockers. The doors would not open and they appeared to have a lock. We enquired how to obtain a key and were advised by the security guard that all the lockers were in use. We would have to wait. I was not impressed. A few minutes later the security guard indicated that if I wore the backpack on my front side, I could enter. Sanity prevails at last. We had seen this backpack up front policy applied at the Alhambra.
Joan rightly caused us to queue up for the featured temporary collection of early period (El Joven) paintings by Bartolome Esteban Murillo, a native and life-long resident of Seville. These paintings were from all over Europe and America, with some even from churches. We had to queue a long time to get in and were annoyed that whole groups got in before us hardy individuals. The wait was worth it though. Almost most of the works had a religious theme, he a personal interest in depicting poverty. What was amazing was the number, size and quality of works produced in 1638, when he was only 21! Unfortunately, photography was not allowed in this special exhibition.
We had not paid any attention to the rooms the exhibits were displayed in until we reached the last one. It was stunning large room with very high dome and a fabulously decorated (fresco?) ceiling. On looking around carefully, it was soon obvious this had been a church or chapel at one time. The guide blurb was kind enough to explain that it had once been the church of the Convent of La Merced. The rest of the building had some very nice courtyards and a bell tower. The upper floors where the nuns had presumably lived were given over to the permanent exhibition, where photography was allowed (no flash). These paintings were mostly by other 17th and 18th century artists. I took a few pictures.
On exiting were parched and hungry but were deter,mined to find a suitable place to eat. We rejected several promising ones as too expensive or not featuring the desired menu del dia. Eventually we came across two right next to each other, one for €7 the other for €6.50. We selected the latter because it offered calamares fritos. We started with an excellent gazpacho containing bits of egg. My calamares and Joan's fish were very good indeed. Mine were so tender and tasty, I was in raptures. I had had two beers but the bill showed only one, so I pointed this out to our waitress. She smiled and explained that the first beer was incluido,and thanked me for my honesty. Best value meal so far.
Suitably refreshed we wandered over to the Hospital de Caridad, essentially an alms house, home for the poor, which also featured art works. Joan wanted to see this building but I did not, and some toing and froing resulted as Joan did not want to enter by herself. In the end her curiosity abiut the inside overrode her separation anxiety. I whiled away the time by repairing to a very nice pub with a marble bar for a couple of beers. Ham is a big deal in Andalusia - everyplace serves it, and many have legs of it hanging in the bar. This bar had a leg propped up horizontally on wooden supports, ready for slices to be cut off. Afterward a bit of photography, and a very good ice cream, I circled back for Joan. We met each other in the street - she had finished early.
It being our last night in Seville we wanted to be in the centre for dinner and to see the place lit up. We walked to the bus stop and waited and waited, for about 20 minutes for the right bus to arrive. In the meantime we observed the evening peak hour as people streamed home. The buses were packed, the street was crowded with cars, many impatiently tooting their horn because the traffic wasn't moving, and bicyles were zipping along on their cycleways, obliuvious to the rain. Had I mentioned it was raining - not very hard fortunately.
We were puzzled by many buses pulling across the traffic to make an illogical left turn. We saw a Cruz Roja (Red Cross) van pull up and four staff get out, go somewhere briefly and take off again. An ambulance with siren screaming also went by in the direction of our intended travel. When our C3 bus finally arrived I was perturbed to see that it also made this unexpected left turn. The traffic wasn't moving, but troubling was that it was away from where I expected. All the other passengers were unperturbed, which was itself perturbing. Eventually the bus made a couple of rights and a left and returned to the expected route. To move 300 m had taken us about ¾ of an hour.
We arrived in the centre in good humour despite this minor setback and proceeded to scout for potential eating establishments while observing and taking in the lit-up cathedral precinct. Most people had gone by then but we were by no means alone. It was very pleasant to be able to amble freely without bumping into other people. A suitable restaurant soon revealed itself to us - Taberna Antigua. We ordered two starters, calamares fritos (again) and a salad, and paella as a main course, along with our a nice bottle of red. The starters were big enough that we could have managed with just that. They were okay but not great; the paella was disappointing. After dinner we meandered down to the river to get the bus back. By this time it was 23:30 and it didn't look like the buses were still running, so a taxi was pressed into service.
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