How to Spend an Afternoon in Triana

Most people leave Triana off of their Seville itinerary – there isn’t much by way of museums or grandiose churches, and it’s across the Guadalquivir from the city’s major draws. But what the historic neighborhood lacks in monuments, it more than makes up for in feeling.

Triana is a barrio that’s equal parts sevillano, capillita and gitano.

Puente de Triana Seville

While most opt to stay in the city center, Triana is only a stone’s throw from the Giralda and Plaza de España, commanding the western bank of the river that slices the city in two. And you can feel it – Triana seems like a world away, despite being connected by bus and subway to every part of Seville.

Consder an aparthotel like the comfortable and spacious ones offered by Pierre&Vacances Sevilla, right in the heart of Triana on Pagés del Coro, on your next Seville holiday. You’ll wake up to the sound of church bells from the adjacent San Jacinto church and be able to pop down to El Pulido for a tostada as long as your forearm.

pierre et vacances

Historically speaking, Triana was a poor, working class neighborhood of fisherman, bullfighters and gypsies and one of the seats of the Holy Inquisition, headquartered at the Castillo San Jorge on the riverbank. Today, it’s a neighborhood known for its fiercely trianero residents, flamenco culture and tile production, and is home to several well-known bars and eateries.

I may be biased, but it’s my favorite part of the city, and one whose streets I walk every day as a resident of the 41010. Many days, there’s no need to even cross the Puente Isabel II into town. 

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If you have a free afternoon, don’t miss Triana’s charm, which I’ve loaded into an interactive map in Bobbypin:

12pm – Start off with food

Start by crossing the Puente Isabel II over the Guadalquivir river, the official entrance into the República Independiente de Triana. The bridge was the city’s first, replacing a pontoon bridge in 1854 and built by an Eiffel disciple.

Capilla del Carmen Triana Anibal Gonzalez

It’s easily my favorite monument and the nearly official symbol of the neighborhood. At the western end, you’ll find the minuscule Capilla de Carmen, which was built by famous sevillano architect Aníbal González (you’d recognize him from the Plaza de España) in the early 20th Century.

Your first stop in 41010 should be the newly renovated Mercado de Triana. Still very much a local’s market, fruit and vegetable vendors, fish mongers, butchers and specialty producers hock their wares just steps from the river. The market was built atop the ruins of the Castillo de San Jorge, visible in the adjacent museum and even in the walls of the mercado (C/San Jorge, 6). 

Mercado de Triana typical market

If you can’t stick around all night, there’s a small flamenco theatre flanking the western edge of the market with shows at noon on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.

1pm – Work up an appetite

Triana has the privilege being where the sun chooses to sleep nightly, as the famous song goes, and it lingers over the district all afternoon long. Retreat back to the Puente Isabel II and to the yellow bar that sits opposite the Carmen chapel. Trianeros know that the food at El Faro de Triana isn’t anything special, but the views from the terrace or even the steps leading down to Calle Betis get the most sun midday. Order a cervecita and take it outside if it’s a nice day (Plaza del Altozano, 1C).

El Faro de Triana bar in Seville

Continue walking down Calle Betis, the Roman name for the river, away from the bridge and towards the Torre del Oro. The thoroughfare is packed with bars and restaurants, though you should steer clear of them for now and walk on the other side of the road so as to avoid hawkers while drinking in the view across the river to the bullring, opera house and the Torre del Oro itself.

2pm – Tapear your way through Triana’s tapas bars

2pm is still a little early for me, but bars seem to fill up at this time of the afternoon, no matter what day. At the southern end of the street, stop at La Primera del Puente, a nondescript tapas bar lined with tiles and grilling fish over a hot skillet, and order just one thing: patatas bravas and a glass of Cruzcampo. In eight years, I’ve tried countless dishes of fried potatoes with a spicy red sauce, and La Primera has some of the best (even if their barman makes fun of my accent constantly (C/ Betis, 66).

Tapa of salmorejo

Backtrack to Calle Troya and head away from the river, then take the first right onto Calle Pureza. I photographed a couple’s first look photos on this street because of its colorful houses and ornate doorways, and it’s home to both Triana’s first church, Santa Ana, as well as several watering holes (C/ Vázquez de Leca, s/n).

If Santa Ana is open, it’s worth a quick peek – commissioned in 1266 (yep, 750 years ago!), Santa Ana is known for its mudéjar hallmarks and Baroque facelift after the Lisbon earthquake of 1755, whose aftershocks were felt in Sevilla.

Just in front of the north facing door is Bar Santa Ana, a typical tavern featuring local dishes, like espinacas con garbanzos, bull tail and small grilled sandwiches. This is the bar I bring visitors to when I want to tell them about Holy Week, as paraphernalia of weeping Virgins and Bloody Christs adorn the walls. This is the sort of bar where locals have been locals since the 50s and where waiters still write your bill in chalk on the bar (C/ Pureza, 82).

Tapa of Tortilla Española

You can pop into the Basilica de Nuestra Señora de la Esperanza de Triana just down the road, a stark white chapel that stands out amid salmon, cornflower and albero shaded homes and palaces (C/ Pureza, 53).

A little bit further up the road in La Anigua Abacería, a cozy, dimly lit cold cuts bar whose menu is long and has quite a few surprises. There are plenty of good vegetarian options here, too, and gobs of wines to try (C/ Pureza, 12). 

Once you’ve had your fill, the serpentine calles and callejones of this part of Triana are good for walking off the calories – as well as staving off the siesta.

5pm – Explore Triana’s ceramic production

Around the corner of Calle Callao is Cerámica Santa Ana and the Centro Cerámica de Triana. The neighborhood has a long tradition of ceramics production and boasts several small shops that still make azulejos in the ancient way, though the clay no longer comes from the riverbanks. Hand-painted ceramic bowls, pitchers and magnets are my go-to souvenirs and even made them a prominent part of my wedding decoration, and Plaza de España’s elaborate tile depictions of Spain’s 50 provinces were made in factories here (C/ San Jorge, 31).

Where to buy Ceramics in Triana, Seville

If you’re not looking for souvenirs, poke around the Centro Cerámica de Triana‘s small museum, one of the city’s newest. Though the kilns are no longer operable, they can be found in the museum, which also explains traditional techniques in English and Spanish. Plan around three-quarters of an hour (C/ Antillano Campos, 14).

6pm – Grab merienda and an afternoon drink

Head back to Calle Pureza and straight to Manu Jara Dulcería, a pastry shop owned by a French chef of the same name (and did I mention his Michellin stars?). While his brand of desserts, MasQuePostres, aren’t made on-site, they’re fresh, delectable and the shop itself a treat (C/ Pureza, 5).

Manu Jara Dulceria Sevilla

Sevillanos usually take their sweet afternoon snack, called a merienda, with a coffee or tea, then follow it up with an adult beverage. Around the corner, back on Calle Betis, sits La Tertulia, a watering hole that plays off of the famous political and social discussion groups of the turn of the century. Avoid heading inside for anything more than ordering if you can – the bar smells like dirty pipes and mold – and grab a seat along the bench with your mojito. You’ll be rewarded with the same views you had before lunch, just this time as night falls and the Triana bridge lights up (C/ Betis, 13).

9:00pm – Dinnertime again!

Triana is known as one of the liveliest neighborhoods in the city, and as night falls, bars and restaurants again fill with patrons. If you’re not hungry just yet, have a beer at Cervecería La Grande back on San Jacinto (C/ San Jacinto, 39).

Back when the Novio and I started dating, we’d have a routine called the ruta trianera, in which we’d have a few beers at La Grande before popping around to different bars in the area for dinner. Begin at Bar Casa Diego on Alferería (5). Don’t expect an English menu here; order a heaping media ración of pollo frito, friend chicken, and one of croquetas de puerros, or leek croquettes. Local lore states that Diego’s wife grew so tired of making béchamel and rolling croquetas for hungry clientele that she up and quit in the middle of a shift!

Yes, they’re that good.

champiñones mushrooms at Las Golondrinas

Walk around the corner on Antillano Campos to Las Golondrinas I, a Triana institution and at the top of my list. The micro kitchen produces just a few dishes, and tapas are only available at the crowded bar. Ask Pepe for a glass of house wine and a tapa of punta de solomillo, a piping hot pork loin sandwiches, and champiñones, sautéed mushrooms crowned with mint sauce (C/ Antillano Campos, 26). 

If you’re still hungry, Paco España has big plates of food to split, most notably their open-faced sandwiches, called panes (C/ Alfarería, 18).

11pm – Take in a flamenco show

Flamenco show in Seville

Though I’m not a huge fan of the boisterous woman whose name and large presence give Casa Anselma her name, the flamenco bar is hugely popular with locals and tourists. Passing down Pagés del Coro, you’d never expect to find a bar behind the aluminum gates at the corner of Antillano Campos (49), but between 11 and midnight, Anselma opens her bar to patrons for impromptu flamenco shows.

Just be sure to count your change – though there’s no cover charge, drinks are twice as pricey here. 

Bonus: looking for different food and drink options?

There is no shortage of good restaurants in this part of town, from bars that resemble a closet to restaurants that have garnered top foodie prizes.

Pura Tasca – One of Triana’s first gastrobars was built into what was once a butane tank distributor. The decoration evokes a storage space, but the rotating menu and top-notch wine list are always on (C/ Numancia, 5).

Bar Juan Carlos – Cheese and craft beer, and little else, the small bar is usually packed in the evenings. You can order samplers, cheese skewers and fondue, and there’s a beer of the month selection on offer (C/ Febo, 6).

Plaza del Altozano Seville

La Fábula – People spoke so often of La Fábula that even the Novio, a creature of habit, wanted to try it. Spanish favorites with a twist are the hallmark of the pub, which bills itself as a gastrobar and has a few local craft beers on offer (Ronda de Triana, 31).

Casa Ruperto – known to locals as Los Pajaritos for its signature dish, this typical cervecería roasts quails on a spit. They’re also famous for their snails in tomato sauce (cabrillas) (Avda. Santa Cecilia, 2).

Jaylu – I’ve never eaten at this renowned seafood restaurant, but it’s purportedly one of the city’s best (López de Gomara, 19).

La Masacre – DO NOT eat at La Masacre, a Mexican join right on Calle Betis. I was beyond disappointed with the (cold) tamales I ate, though the cocktail and beer menu is loaded, and there’s live music on the weekends (C/ Betis, 29).

Sala El Cachorro – Started as a playhouse, the eclectic space soon morphed into a cafetería and bar. Grab a slice of carrot cake and a coffee and sit in the outdoor patio, full of plants and sculptures (C/ Procurador, 19).

Hot to Spend an Afternoon in

As always, be sure to check opening times and dates. You can reach Triana by metro (M: Plaza de Cuba and Parque de los Príncipes) or bus (5, 6, 40, 43, C1, C2), or simply walk from the city center.

Have you ever spent time in Triana? What are your favorite places to eat, drink and visit?

Photo Post: La Hermandad Rociera de Triana and the Pilgrimage to El Rocío

“No, no, no,” Lucía shook her head fiercely as curls of white smoke escaped from her lips. “You shouldn’t be in Cerro de Águila by yourself. Crime is rampant over there.”

That following morning at the Novio’s new house in Cerro, I was woken up by the fourth-floor shaking as what sounded like a loud pop boomed throughout. I ran into the bathroom and slammed the door behind me.

Turns out the potential guns from the ‘crime capital’ of Seville were actually noisemakers of the neighborhood’s religious brotherhood.

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Fifty days after Resurrection Sunday, those faithful to the Virgen del Rocío (which is practically all of Southern Spain) make a pilgrimage towards La Aldea, a small hamlet full of stately mansions and dirt roads. The striking hermitage – a grandiose white mirage set at the southern edge of la Aldea with views to the marshes of Doñana National Park – was first built on the supposed spot where Alfonso the Wise found an effigy of the Virgin Mother. Today, it’s popular for its most raucous fiesta in the middle of the springtime. 

Seville counts five hermandades – Savlador and Triana are the most famous – whose numbers are staggering. On the Wednesday before Pentecost Sunday, covered wagons pulled by oxen, horses or even tractors set out towards the Almonte and la Aldea, following a silver-laden carriage with an image of the Rocío known as a simpecado. For many of the devout, this spiritual cleansing, characterized by sleeping and eating outdoors, song and dance and prayer, is the most important part.

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When I worked in Olivares, many of my students went missing in the days leading up to El Rocío and the days surrounding Pentecost. I had a handful named Rocío or Paloma in homenage to the Virgin Mary who, quite possible, is the most revered in Andalucía. 

Few things get me out of bed before 8am, but today I was already out the door at that time, Camarón fully charged and ready to shoot (the cohetes would have woken me up regardless). Mass at the chapel on calle Evangelista began at 7:30am, and the simpecado, preceeded by horses and pilgrims, left shortly thereafter. In the past, the carretas that carry supplied for the ten-day pilgrimage were allowed to traverse Triana, but city ordinance now mandate that the wagons start from Plaza Chapina at the northern end of the neighborhood.

romeros ready for El Rocio

Devout pilgrims at el Rocio

Romeros on Calle Pureza Triana

I followed the crowd to Calle Pureza and the door of the Esperanza de Triana church. Here, in one of the most emblematic monuments of the barrio, the simpecado would pass, the devout would pray and the pilgrimage would truly begin.

Perched on the curb just opposite the gleaming white temple, itself a nod to its marisma counterpart 70 kilometers west, I watched as romeros – the name for pilgrims around these parts – flooded the streets. Men wear straw hats and women don flamenco dresses that are easier to walk in, all clutching medals that bear the Virgen del Rocío.

Rocio Fashion 2015

carretas of El Rocio

Gitanas El Rocio

A three-piece band led the procession. Sevillanas with a twist, rocieras use a cane and a bass drum instead of cajas and flutes in place of guitars, and singers belt out songs proclaiming the glory of the Blanca Paloma. Behind them came romeros on horseback and the image of the Virgen herself.

music of el Rocio

prensa en el rocio

Triana to El Rocio on horseback

romeros
Romeros de Triana 2015

Calle Pureza during El Rocio

El Rocio passing by the Esperanza de Triana

Once the simpecado had reached the door of the church, pulled by two oxen, a man on horseback removed his had and, red faced, began to rally.¡Viva La Virgen del Rocío! ¡Viva la Blanca Paloma!¡Viva la Marismeña! Each battle cry was followed by a hearty ¡Viva! 

“¡Y Viva Triana! ¡Viva Triana! ¡Viva Triana!”

Salida del Simpecado Rociero

 

Everyone around me erupted into song as petals were thrown from the roof of the church. While El Rocío has a steady dose of hedonism, the true root of the festival lies in soul-stirring devotion. I felt moved in the same way that Semana Santa touched me. People stopped shoving and began to cry, crossing themselves as they proclaimed that only in Heaven is the Virgen del Rocío more loved.

Want to read more about the festival? I attended the Pentecost Sunday activities –¡vestida de gitana! – in 2012.

Tapa Thursdays: Taifa, Seville’s Answer to the Craft Brew Craze

Leave it to me playing on my cell phone to uncover something new in the Mercado de Triana. As we went for takeout sushi, I led the Novio down the wrong aisle in the iconic food market and ended up right in front of a craft beer bar.

I’d heard rumors of Spain upping their hops ante, and even though craft brews had caught on in Madrid and along the Mediterranean coast, sevillanos has remained pretty loyal to their local brand, Cruzcampo.

Don’t get me wrong – I love Cruzcampo, but more than the taste, I love what it means to me: sharing a sunny day with friends and stopping to take a break once in a while – but it doesn’t hold a candle to the midwestern beers I drank all summer. Taifa is more than an adult beverage – it’s the dream its socios had to bring a new product to the market, and one that surprises in a one-beer sort of town.

The Novio grabbed a 5€ snack of chicarrones, or fried pig’s skin, while I chatted up Jacobo, the founder and half of the bilingual pair who own and market Taifa. He told me that they brew close to twelve thousand litres of beer each year and have two varieties – a blonde and a toasted malt – with a third, and IPA, on the way.

The beers are reminiscent of those from the Sam Adams family, an intermediary between the mass-produced brands and the over-the-top flavored brews, all made from natural ingredients and brewed within the Triana Market. Jacobo and his American-born socio, Marcos, have plans to start pairings and tastings as soon as their new beer is out.

For more information about Taifa, visit their website or stop by the shop at puesto number 36. One bottle costs 2,20€. You can also read about Spain’s craft beer movement on Vaya Madrid!

What are your favorite Spanish beers?

 

Tapa Thursdays: Sol y Sombra

Some places have now become tradition with me and the Novio when we have guests – everyone from a sorority sister and her husband to my own mother have had lunch in Sol y Sombra, a restaurant in the northern end of Triana.

The dimly-lit bar is remniscent of establishments from ages past – yellowing, cracked century-old bullfighting posters, a menu written by hand on the wall, dusty wine and brandy bottles resting under them. Those thin napkins that don’t lap up anything aren’t found – instead, you wipe your hands with rolls of toilet paper.

And there’s ham.

Like, dozens of hams hanging right over your head with little plastic cups for catching the sticky fat that rolls off the meat as it matures.

When the Nov and I took Danny and Javi last week, the mournful saetas were echoeing throughout the long, thin bar. At 2pm, the place was empty, so we set up along the bar, feet covered in albero.

The menu is replete with sevillano favorites – revueltos, fried fish, hearty meat stews. Food is only served in half or full rations, and not tapas, and vegetarian options are slim.

The one dish we always order is stewed bull tail, cola de toro. The tender meat comes with the bones and fat in all its glory, served with potatoes. On the last trip, we went all out – a round of croquetas, choco frito, pan-seared pimientos del padrón and the cola de toro.

If you go: Sol y Sombra is located on Calle Castilla 151, just around the corner from Ronda de Triana. Open Tuesday – Sunday from 1pm to 4pm and 8pm until midnight. Expect to pay 10-15€ a head with drinks.

 

Seville’s Best Terrace Bars for Summer

When the days in Seville heat up (which should have happened, um, six weeks ago), the streets empty out. Buildings are hugged for shade, gazpacho and cold beer are chugged by the gallon. Sevilla literally becomes a ghost town in the summer months, and those of us unfortunate enough to be here have only one option (unless you count day-long showers while eating popsicles as a feasible option, which I totally and shamelessly do):

Terrace bars, called terrazas.

Seville's BestSeville is nestled in the Guadalquivir River valley, one of the flattest parts in all of Spain. This means that all of the hot air sits in right on top of the city, creating an effect called er borchorno. During the evening, the Guadalquivir is just about the only place where we can get some relief, so many of the discos take their booze bottles down to the banks and take advantage of the breeze. I have tons of great memories of nights where I’d roll out of bed at 8pm when the night was finally cooling down, grab some drinks with friends and head to the discos.

Here’s a few of my top picks:

ROOF: This concept bar opened in Spring 2012, staking claim on a multi-storied roof in the Macarena neighborhood. An acquaintance was in charge of the set-up and social media, so I took advantage and dragged La Cait along with me.

The design is part-sevillano-bar, part-Moroccan-bungalow, and ROOF serves up imaginative cocktails along with decent snacks. Just be aware of the long lines for a drink on weekends, and bring your camera – the views are incredible, particularly at night. (ROOF is located on the top floor of the Hotel Casa Romana at Calle Trajano, 5. Cocktails will run you 6-8€. Open daily from midday.)

Terraza at Hotel EME – The hip hang at a terrace bar that’s right next to the Giralda, making it a perfect place to watch the sun go down while having a gin tonic. Electronic music pulsates at pretty much any hour of the day, and cocktails are wildly expensive, but treating yourself to an overpriced mojito when your best friend visits it acceptable, right? (Calle Alemanes, 27, on the 4th floor of the Hotele EME Cathedral).

Hotel Inglaterra – I was introduced to this bar when Gary Arndt, the blogger behind the successful Everything, Everywhere, had tapas with Sandra of Seville Traveler and me. The terrace doesn’t have a ton of character, with fake grass and plastic chairs, but it does have some of the best views of the center of town and a bird’s-eye view of Plaza Nueva – plus, it’s not too crowded or expensive. (Plaza Nueva, 7. Open from 5:30pm daily).

Capote – having a beer at Caopte takes me back to my days as an auxiliar de conversación, long before adult responsibilities like a full-time job and master’s. Nestled just below the Triana bridge, the open-air bar has great parties and promotions, and it’s often a good place from which to start the night. Famous for their mojitos, the bar’s always full of an eclectic mix of people, and they offer cachimbas and ample seating. (Next to the Triana Bridge, open from 1om until 4am from Semana Santa until mid September)

Embarcadero – I wasn’t clued into Embarcadero until a few summers ago. Crammed between two riverside restaurants, a steep staircase leads right down to the water, and the bar has a nautical feel. Embarcadero actually means pier, so lone sailboats rock gently with the current of the Guadalquivir, and heavy ropes are all that separate the water from the wooden planks of the floor. Live music, good service and unobstructed views of the Torre del Oro make this bar one of my favorites. (Calle Betis, 69. Open daily from 5pm until around 2am)

Alfonso – When the summer months get too hot to bear, two discos open at the foot of Plaza de América in María Luisa Park. With the dramatic backdrop of the lush green space and its museums, Alfonso’s breezy terrace rocks into the wee hours of the morning. This is a place to see and be seen without feeling so stuffy. (Located at the south end of Plaza de América in María Luisa park, just off Avenida de la Palmera. Typically open mid-June to mid-September from 10pm).

There’s a whole loads of other – Puerto de Cuba, Chile, Ritual, Bilindo, Casino – but I’m too low key to ever go to them (or get into them!).

The Gourmet Experience at El Corte Inglés: Even if it’s not summertime, the terrace on the top floor of the Corte Inglés in Duque operates yearround, provng that sevillanos will brave any sort of weather to be able to smoke and drink outside. 

terraza Corte Ingles Gourmet

Apart from food offerings, cocktails and beer are served every day of the week on the spacious terrace, which boasts views of the old town. (Situated on the sixth floor of the flagship Corte Inglés in Plaza del Duque, right in the heart of town. Open daily from noon; hours fluctuate for weekends and holidays.)

Have any favorite terrace bars in your city? Please have a sip in my honor – I’m busy planning my wedding!

The Do’s and Dont’s of the Feria de Abril of Seville

Recently, Shawn of Azahar Sevilla and the mastermind behind Seville Tapas tweeted that I have a reputation of being feriante, a lover of Seville’s famous festival, the Feria de Abril. We may have only met briefly, but mujer gets me. What’s not to love about a week dedicated to revelry, horses, wine and curve-hugging dresses?

Two weeks after sevillanos have dried their tears after another washed out Holy Week, a makeshift city of temporary tents is erected at the southwest end of the city. Known as the Real de la Feria, this pueblecito comes alive during six days of the year, from 9pm on the Monday two weeks after Resurrection Sunday to the following Sunday’s fireworks show.

The dizzying, vibrant week can be characterized by a whirl of polka dotted dresses, the jingle of horse bells and the sound of sevillanas, a type of flamenco music, and it’s one of Spain’s most well known festivals. But as a city deep-rooted in tradition, even the April Fair has its set of unofficial rules. I consider myself a fairly well-weathered feriante after eight years of teaching class after late nights, of using my enchufe to my advantage and of lasting through six days of partying.

DO bring your wallet

One of the biggest pitfalls to Feria is that it falls two weeks after Holy Week (my perfect excuse for traveling during 10 days). Feria is a wallet drain.

First is the costly flamenco dress and everything that goes with it – the flower, shawl, earrings and shoes. I got my most recent dress during the July sale season for a mere 125€ and the accessories, called complementos, cost me another 60€. Styles change de feria en feria, so some wealthy women get a new dress each year!

My caseta membership costs Kike and I 150€ a year (we alternate who pays, this year me toca, while he’ll pay the cheaper gym membership), and then there’s the food, the drinks and the need to buy a new pair of shoes when I dance the others right into the trash. Tapas are not served in casetas, but rather raciones that can be 6 – 12€, while a jarra of rebujito can cost up to 10€! What’s more, hotels and taxis operate on a holiday price, so rates will be sky-high like during Holy Week. City buses have a 2€ day pass, and they’ll extend working hours – look for the “Especial Feria” bus.

To keep costs down, I usually eat lunch at home and walk to the fairgrounds and always ignore my dwindling bank account for the sake of un buen rato. Feria only comes once a year!

DON’T only see Feria by night

The fairgrounds open daily around 1p.m. and most casetas stay open until the wee hours, meaning the Feria de Abril is an exercise in stamina, and not just for your wallet. My first few years in Seville, I worked outside the city and therefore had to run home, change into my traje de gitana, eat and get to Calle Gitanillo de Triana. I’d alternate dancing sevillanas with sips of rebujito and riding the carnival attractions in Calle del Infierno, arriving home in the early morning hours and collapsing in my bed hoping to get a few hours of sleep.

I may have inadvertently taught my high schoolers the word “hangover” in English my second year in Olivares.

There are two different sides to the fair – during the day, horse carriages and riders crowd the streets, even parking their horse next to their caseta and drinking sherry by the glass atop the stallion. Music spills out of the tents at all hours, and kids roam the streets with plastic toys and cotton candy the size of their torsos. The ambience is festive and cultural.

As night falls, the carnival rides at the Calle del Infierno begin to light up, and the round paper lanterns, called farolillos, come on. While you’d be pressed to find a caseta that isn’t playing a rumba or sevillana, everyone switches from rebujito and beer to mixed drinks, and casetas are often open all night long. I’ve had mornings where I’ve ended the long day of partying with chocolate con churros!

I’m also partial to weekday visits. During Friday and Saturday, other villages in the area get a day off to enjoy the fair, which means that it’s difficult to walk and navigate around the streets, all named for bullfighters.

DO dress up

Feria is the pinnacle of pijo culture – women will don the traditional traje de gitana, a tight, ruffled dress that cost upwards of 500€. If you’re not keen on dressing like a wealthy gypsy, be sure to look nice. I went to the alumbrado, the lighting of the main gate and the official start to the festivities, wearing ratty jeans and sneakers, not fully aware of how the event worked. I’ve since wizened up and now make it a priority to have a few nice dresses on hand in case there’s a chance of rain or I can’t bear wearing my traje.

If you’re a chico, wear a suit and tie. Caseta etiquette is very important, and you’ll be expected to follow suit (literally!). If you’re planning on riding a horse, a traje corto, a short jacket and riding pants with a wide-brimmed hat called a cordobés. I’ve ridden in horse carriages, but never on the back of a jerezano stallion, kind of my dream!

DON’T forget the caseta etiquette

Casetas are the temporary tents that act as houses, kitchens, concert halls and lounges during the Feria. Since the private spaces come at a commodity (there’s even a waiting list for when a family or organization decides not to continue paying), a certain type of behavior is expected – you can’t be overly drunk, improperly dressed or smoking within the walls.

One year, a friend of a friend was visiting, and I took them to the Novio’s friend’s caseta. This girl, K, was not sipping the lethal rebujito, but instead treating it like a shot. She bumbled around like an idiot and starting making out with the Novio’s youngest brother, causing quite an escándolo and getting us banned from the caseta.

There’s also an unspoken rule that you can’t bring your twelve friends with you. The Novio’s best friend’s wife, Susana, often encourages me to invite some pals, but I try and keep it limited to two, maybe three. Even my own caseta has a one-buddy-per-socio rule!

DO set limits on consumption

If Feria is a marathon for your wallet and feet, it’s no stroll through the Real for your liver, either. The drink of choice is rebujito, a refreshing mix of half a litre of dry sherry and 7-Up, and it is potent. The sugary drink is usually served in enormous jars and drunk out of plastic shot glasses or sherry glasses between friends. Drinking water and curbing the intake often helps, as well as getting some fresh air every so often. During my first year, the only kind of connection I had was in Los Sanotes, and Kelly and I made sure to be there every day. Susana’s uncle finally reminded me that there was more to Feria than one caseta out of over 1000, and a break in the dancing and drinking will allow you to take in the ambience.

Be sure to eat during the day, too. I usually don’t want to stop dancing for a montadito or fried fish, but spacing out your drinks and punctuating them with some heavy food like carrillada or tortilla will help you last longer.

DON’T be pesada with your contacts, and try and make them early.

Feria is a time when enchufe, the age-old connections game that lives and thrives in Seville – nearly all of the casetas are private and protected by a doorman. I usually have to say the name of the person who I’m meeting or offer to drag that person back to the door after I’ve found them to prove that I’ve been invited. Phone lines collapse and batteries run dead, or someone is too drunk to get to their phone. Make your plans with friends ahead of time to avoid the letdown of arriving to the fairgrounds and having to wander around while you wait for an invitation.

I’ve have several invitations to casetas where I’m brought food and drink outside, though I’ve never actually psychically been inside of them. But that’s alright with me…as long as there’s rebujito and a plate of ham waiting, that is!

While I’m busy with pouring over relaciones institucionales or dancing my brains out on Calle Gitanillo de Triana, here are a few of the articles I’ve written in the past about la semana más bonita:

How to dress up a flamenco dress

A vivir! Que son dos días!

The Feria during the economic crisis

My first Feria experience 

Paulina’s article on How to Enjoy Feria as a Guiri

Any other tips and tricks for enjoying the fair?

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