Monkey Wars

So, so cute! Really, who couldn’t love monkeys?

They are definitely part of the Costa Rican nature experience. Every other time we’ve been to Costa Rica we’ve encountered them. In nature preserves and national parks, next to our rentals, near restaurants, hanging on the power lines. Even watched them from an infinity pool on the Osa peninsula. They are everywhere. We’ve seen three of the four species in the country—howlers, white-faced, and spiders. The only one we haven’t seen is the very rare squirrel monkey.

But this trip we’ve only had a fleeting glimpse of them — very disappointing. In fact, one of our travel companions, Denise, an animal lover, was quite upset and worried that she would get back home never having seen a monkey. And we were coming to the end of our visit. It was our last four days and we were now up near Monteverde in the Cloud Forest. Desperation time!

Early morning birding near Curi-Concha Reserve, but no monkeys

We had an easy solution. We’d been told by our favorite birding guide, Adrian Mendez, [adrianmendez@hotmail.com] if you want to see the white-faced monkeys, go to Stella’s, a local coffee shop. You’ll definitely see them there busily trying to steal food from unsuspecting patrons eating outside. It reminded us of our first encounter years ago when they tried to grab our backpacks in Manual Antonio National Park. The park now bans tourists from bringing in any food because the monkeys got so used to human food they couldn’t feed themselves and died off during Covid when the park was closed for two years. So we were all set to head to Stella’s for a lunch for our up close and personal encounter with monkeys.

But as luck would have it, we didn’t have to leave our vacation rental at all. We had booked a lovely rental outside of Santa Elena. Beautiful serene setting, lovely views of trees complete with a stream just below our house, and surrounded by the Cloud Forest jungle. We could sit on our wrap around balcony and bird watch from armchairs.

Nearby there was a large colony of Montezuma oropendolas. It is a spectacularly beautiful bird with a very unpleasant, noisy call. The birds build large hanging nests high up trees—an amazing feat of engineering given the high winds in this region.

Peter was outside watching the oropendolas when he yelled “Monkeys!” “Denise, come quick!” We all grabbed our cameras and phones and ran outside. From the yard we could see several white-faced monkeys, snapping off the bromeliads in the trees and eating the juicy base of each plant. Cute. So cute.

We keep moving around to get a better look—first outside the house under the trees and then on to the balcony as the monkeys got closer and closer.

Now we realized there weren’t just several monkeys, but a lot of monkeys.

They rip off the bromeliads and eat the base of each plant

We were happily snapping photos and taking videos when we saw a large male getting closer and closer. He was focused on us. Maybe even glaring at us. We just kept taking pictures of the cute ones.

And he kept moving closer until he was on a branch just ten feet or so from our balcony viewing point. We continued taking pictures. Obviously, we missed his message. The fangs came out, the snarling began. He started charging up and down the branch very excitedly now only a few feet from us.

Wisely, we quickly retreated inside, closed and locked the sliding glass door, and watched from a large bedroom window. He glared at us through the window, and then for emphasis he snapped a large branch off and threw to the ground.

But as a final parting gesture, he turned around, pointed his ass at us, and shit. Yes, we did indeed get the message.

About a half an hour later, we were in the kitchen retelling the story when he showed up again outside the sliding glass door, snarling at us. He broke another branch off an ornamental tree. And then with special emphasis grabbed the lid off the recycle bin and tossed to the ground looking straight at us! So there! Just in case we hadn’t received the earlier message. We locked the kitchen sliding glass door, and every other door and window in the house.

Sitting in the living room, we watched the whole troop march by, babies and all, as though they were patrolling the perimeter of their territory.

We worried. Could we make it to the car to go to dinner? As we left that evening we were startled to see a white faced monkey sitting by the car. Was it him? Waiting in ambush? The monkey ran to the other side of the car. We drew straws to see who had to go out first.

That night Denise didn’t sleep very well. Every unidentified sound might be a monkey trying to break in.

But she had seen her monkeys.

New Horizons in Costa Rica

We wrote a blog several years ago about how comforting it was to travel back to the familiar. You know the stores, restaurants, the roads. What to see, what to avoid. And yet we also usually find something or some place new to explore. This was our fifth trip to Costa Rica and again, we were planning on spending part of our time in Potrero, our home base, on the Nicoya peninsula on the Pacific side. Lovely beaches, decent tourist infrastructure, but not over taken by souvenir shops Then a few days in Monteverde chasing birds. But this time we would add a trip down south to the Osa Peninsula. A new horizon.

What is stunning about Costa Rica is how many completely different climatic and geographic regions are packed into a small country. Dry, almost desert on the North Pacific coast, tropical rain forest on the mid Pacific coast, even more dense, hot tropical forests further south, the temperate central valley, the cool Cloud Forest in the mountains, the Caribbean lowlands, and the high southern mountains.

Osa is a long drive from San Jose. Even longer because you inevitably find lots of construction zones and a very slow truck or two to follow for tens of miles. So we decided to stop in Uvita on the central Pacific coast along the way to break up the trip.

Some suggest our first stop, Uvita, is an alternative to the more touristy Quepos and Manuel Antonio, just a bit further down the road. It’s a town with no main square or center, and has one main attraction—the Ballena Marine national park. This very unusual park has a huge sand spit that from above looks exactly like a whale’s tail. Unfortunately we were there at high tide; no whales tail but a gorgeous beach.

It was also prime time for the humpback whale migration so dozens of small whale watching boats were being launched through the rough, heavy surf, occasionally dumping a tourist or two into the water.

We spent two days there exploring the national park, looking for monkeys, watching birds and walking the beautiful local beaches. A good stop along the way to the Osa Peninsula.

The Osa Peninsula is one of the more remote parts of Costa Rica—very different than where we’ve been before. We read that this area was less developed, less touristed than our previous haunts. It’s in the far south, super tropical, on the Golfo Dulce (the only tropical fjord in the northern hemisphere). The peninsula is almost entirely a national park, the Corcovado National Park, and mostly inaccessible except by boat or long hikes, as in three and four day long hikes with a ninety minute boat ride from Puerto Jimenez before you even start to walk. Spectacular wildlife—birds, monkeys, sloths, tapirs, jaguars, and snakes—lots of snakes. One of the real natural treasures of the world—it said to be the most biodiverse place on the planet.

Fortunately, it is possible to drive down the eastern side of the peninsula to Puerto Jimenez, a little run down village of mostly Ticos, some expat hippy/yoga types, and a few serious eco tourists/birders/hikers. You can drive further south on a dirt road with multiple stream crossings to Carate, but we wisely chose to end our drive at Puerto Jimenez. The town houses the main information center for the national park and you book your tours there—you must have a guide to get into the park. There is also a small airstrip with flights from San Jose, Liberia and Quepos should you not want to make the long drive. It was little disconcerting when we were sitting at a local restaurant at the port when a small plane buzzed by seemingly inches over our heads. We noticed none of the locals flinched.

There’s not much else to the town. A few restaurants, couple of yoga studios, a gas station, a BM grocery store, and a heavily advertised Saturday farmers market that takes five minutes to see but includes some indigenous people’s crafts..

Just a few but very rugged miles outside of town is another of Costa Rica’s gorgeous beach’s—Playa Preciosa. From here you can almost see Panama.

Part of Osa’s charm is its lack of serious tourist infrastructure. So we had a hard time finding a place to stay except for a few very upscale eco resorts. We wound up in the Corcovado Private Villas. We think it might have been an eco resort that fell on hard times in during Covid. We had been warned a four-wheeled vehicle was required. The website gave us a GPS waypoint that took us up a steep dirt road that reinforced the idea we needed four wheels. Unfortunately when the GPS announced “you have arrived” we were in front of nothing but a barbed wire fence. So, of course we drove on, using all four wheels on our car, as the road became progressively worse. Back home we would have called it a mountain logging road. Luckily, a kind local on a motorbike recognized we were somewhere we didn’t belong and led us back to civilization. Of course, this part of Costa Rica lacks reliable cell reception as in we had no “bars”. We had to backtrack several miles to get cell service and a new set of directions — different but only slightly better. We finally arrived. Our traveling partner in the backseat had her eyes closed most of the way up to resort, muttering occasionally “oh my goodness.” The “check in” guy, Esteban, listened rather calmly to our annimated story about getting lost and told us he too had gotten lost a few days before using the original directions. We suggested that maybe they might want to delete those directions from their website.

The complex consisted of a dozen or so separate units spaced some distance from each other along the steep trail to the top of the hill. There we found the pool, hot tub and “restaurant” which served an inclusive breakfast and you could order a dinner in advance with a very limited menu. Oh, and the whole stay was cash only and it was very unclear who you paid and when. Nobody seemed to be in charge but we figured somebody, sometime, somewhere would take our money.

The villas themselves were a bit run down, with few amenities, but very serviceable. And with gorgeous views of the green jungle teeming with birds and a few monkeys just a few feet from our balcony.

The upside, and it was a huge upside: the 70 acres of amazing tropical forest right adjacent to the national park. Some of reviews said the wildlife here was better than what they saw in the park. While we are not truly serious birders, what we experienced in the few days on the property could change our minds. Toucans, fiery billed arcaries, multiple varieties of parrots, lineated woodpeckers, and dozens more. At least several new life birds for us.

But the star attraction were the scarlet macaws—a very large bright red, yellow, blue parrot with the most awful loud sqwauk of a call which you could hear for miles. Our villa and common area seemed to be a macaw freeway with birds flying over all day, stopping to rest in the nearby trees. What a show. A very loud show.

And you could see most of this from a magnificent infinity pool at the top of the property. In one 45 minutes stint in the pool, we saw white faced monkeys, yellowed throated toucans, green parrots and, of course, lots of scarlet macaws, plus monkeys just a few yards away peeking through the foliage. Pool birding was a new experience for us. As we said, we aren’t serious birders.

And the dinner, humble as it was (arroz con pollo) was very good. However, the parting comment from our young server as we walked home to our villa was a little disturbing, “Be careful of the snakes.” We walked with all four iPhone flashlights focused on the ground.

Yes, the property needs work and serious investment. But if they ever upgraded to a high-end eco resort, we probably couldn’t afford it. By the way, while writing this in our villa some white-faced monkey is having a shit fit not far away.

The Osa Peninsula surprised us by living up to its reputation — a natural wonder, still largely pristine, a biodiverse sanctuary, and one Costa Rica’s many different climatic and geographic regions. It’s also a great example of Costa Rica’s commitment to preserving natural habitats by setting aside huge areas as national and provincial parks.

It gave us a lot to think about on the 10 hour drive back north to Potrero— basically nearly the entire length of the country.

For the Birds

Our third trip to the Cloud Forest in Costa Rica was probably our best. Maybe because we were ready for a break from the unseasonably hot weather on the Pacific Coast. Maybe because the roads were familiar, and now much improved from earlier trips. Maybe it was simply because the area is so gorgeous.

The Cloud Forest is special even for nature-rich Costa Rica. The wind from the warm Caribbean side blows the clouds up and over the continental divide, keeping the jungle below cool and wet. The clouds just hang on the mountain tops.

There was a 30 degree temperature difference between the Cloud Forest and the lowlands a few miles away when we were there this year. 98F vs 68F. We heard that climate change and the rising sea temperatures are changing this pattern a bit, meaning less rain fall in the mountains and more on the costal plains. It is worrisome—so much flora and fauna are dependent on the very specific micro climates of the Cloud Forest.

The big draw in the Cloud Forest are birds! Birders from all over the world flock here (pardon the awful pun). Situated between North and South America, Costa Rica is known for its incredible biodiversity and the amazing number of different birds reflects that richness. 918 at last count.

A disclaimer—we aren’t really serious birders. A passionate birder friend gradually sucked us in years ago when we traveled together. At first, we saw birding as an excuse to take a walk in the woods, green belts, or seashores. Then we began keeping track of the birds we saw. Technology, of course, made it easier with finger tip accessibility to information on birds and help identifying them. We were hooked. Now where ever we travel, we try to take a walk and look for birds. But in a place like Costa Rica’s Cloud Forest, you don’t need a book or a life list. Just grab a pair of binoculars and enjoy.

Seven years ago we birded in the Monteverde National Reserve, the most famous of the many Cloud Forest sites. We hired Adrian Menendez, an outstanding local guide. We haven’t been back to that park since, but have reconnected with Adrian. He’s led us up remote mountain roads, through other regional reserves and into private parks.

Over two mornings with Adrian this year, we saw nearly a hundred different species!

Of course, we would see very few birds without him. Not only does he know the sounds of birds and can locate them primarily by sounds, he also knows where the different species hang out. These mountains have been his birding territory for 31 years. He knows where an owl hangs out, or under what bush you’ll find the shyest of birds or where the wild avocado trees are found that the Resplendent Quetzal likes to eat.

On our first day, we drove just barely over the continental divide and walked along a mountain road not far from the Santa Elena Reserve. And there was a Resplendant Queztal just waiting for us. And the Red-faced Spinetail with its precarious hanging nest. And 39 other species!

From there we went into the Reserva Bosque Nuboso, where many of the paths were paved to allow handicapped access. And benches are provided for seniors. It was later in the day so fewer birds were active. At the highest point we were 5608 feet above sea level, roughly the same elevation as Paradise on Mount Rainier. No wonder there was a bit of huffing and puffing!

Sitting on top of the world with Arenal Volcano behind the clouds

The highlight of the day came when an Ornate Hawk Eagle flew over head followed by the American Swallowtail Kite, on its migration north. From a platform tower we could see several of Costa Rica’s volcanoes, including Arenal which last erupted in 2010 (because of the threat of another potential eruption, all cars are required to back into parking spots to expedite an emergency exit — not a comforting thought)

We woke up the second day to fierce winds and rain. Not a good day for birding. Adrian, however, had a plan. We drove about 20 minutes south of Santa Elena and a bit lower on the western slopes of the mountains to Finca Ecológica San Luis, a private reserve run by Adrian’s cousins. Some birding purists might scoff at the feeding stations around the reserve that lures the wild birds in. We didn’t care. We appreciated sitting in rustic shelters, dry, and up close and personal with our avian friends.

Some of the birds we had seen before — White-fronted Parrot, Chachalaca, Montezuma Orependola, Baltimore Oriole.

But most of the birds we were seeing for the first time — Lessen’s Motmot, Broadwinged Hawk. Gartered Trogon, and the big draw of the area—the unusual looking Three-wattled Bellbird with a song that sounded either like a brass gong or an ET alien that could be heard a half a mile away.

The Cloud Forest is truly one of the world’s magical places whether you’re there for the birds or simply for a walk in the woods. And that’s why we keep coming back.

[Full disclosure: we have to share photo credits for this post with Malcolm and Adrian.]

Parroting

We first saw scarlet macaws seven years ago on the Oso Peninsula in Costa Rica sitting in wild almond trees beside a lagoon. Last year when we were staying near Manuel Antonio Park, we spent a lot of time watching these magnificent tropical birds fly by our balcony.

This year a went a bit further north to the Macaw Recovery Network south of Sámara at Islita on the Nicoya Peninsula. And what a show—up close and personal with the birds.

The reserve offers tours but only takes a limited number of people, 12-15, twice a day, early mornings or late afternoons. Reservations are required (but easy to do and pay for online). We opted for the early morning session which meant up in time to see the sunrise and a 45 minute drive to make the 7:30 feeding.

It was a bit of a harrowing drive — much of it a roller coaster of rather heavily traveled dirt roads. Can’t imagine how anyone can find the place without GPS — we had three devises tracking the way using both Google maps and Waze which, for once, agreed with each other. We still took a wrong turn. (Over and over again we were encouraged by locals to use Waze— old Google habits die hard.)

A modest open air structure served as reception area, a gift shop, and auditorium for the video. Several scarlet macaws posed for us around the edges of the building, waiting to be fed. Apparently, after being being trained how to survive in the wild and released, some birds stay near the reserve for a year or two until they are comfortable fending for themselves. After snapping a few pictures, we settled into the back row, more interested in spending time watching the birds than a video. Nonetheless, we were impressed.

In addition to working to restore the bird populations (macaws were extinct in the Islita region 30 years ago) the Network also works to restore habitat and educate Costa Ricans about conservation.

The Network raises scarlet and the even rarer green macaws to be released to the wild. Currently, they believe only four thousands scarlet macaws exist in Costa Rica and only three hundred green macaws. Even fewer Yellow-napped Parrots which the refuge is just starting to breed. With the results of several years of breeding scarlet macaws, 64 banded birds have been released and had produced offspring “naturally” —bringing the total birds in this area to over 100. Impressive, given that macaws were extinct in the Islita region 30 years ago. This year the Network will release the green macaws in the north eastern part of Costa Rica for the first time.

Not surprising in the animal kingdom, the birds have dominant and submissive members, so two feeding stations are filled — one for the big guys and gals — females as well as males display aggressive behaviors — and a second to give the other birds a chance. Incidentally, the sex of these birds can only be determined by a blood test, we were told.

Sometimes fights break out as the birds feed. But mainly they seemed to move around, slide up and down the pulley lines and take turns feeding.

The groups of birdwatchers are limited to minimize the stress on the feeding birds. This is breeding season and while we could hear but not see the pairs, the staff was particularly interested in keeping those birds calm. The breeders are fed as the same time as the wild birds and created quite a cacophony.

The iguanas also come out at feeding time, waiting for bits of fruit and nuts to be dropped on the ground by the birds.

Snakes pose a danger to the breeding program, particularly boa constrictors. The reptiles love to feed on the baby chicks. So traps are set around the grounds to lure boas in with the scent of wood chips used in the breeding nests. We were told the trapped snakes are then released into the wild some distance away. Some in our group were skeptical — or maybe hopeful the snakes met a different fate.

On our way home there were signs along the road indicating where nesting pairs of macaws had taken up residence. A clear indication of the success of the program. We also stopped by another nature reserve adjacent to a beautiful beach— Costa Rica is filled with reserves. While there were plenty of signs warning about crocodiles and sharks, we only saw surfer dudes, discussing the quality of the waves, clearly not worried about the danger.

Guiding Lights

For years we scoffed at hiring a guide when we traveled, figuring we could read the books, or ask around and figure out most stuff about sights on our own. We looked at groups in museums, massed before a work of art and listening to a guide drone on and on about the artist, the symbolism, the technique …. and we winced. Probably we were scarred by many trips to the old Soviet Union and their pedantic guides.

But in recent years, we have learned to hire a guide to get a really good overview of a city, or when we want a deep dive into the details of a site. We learned on our Zimbabwe safari that without the guides we would have missed a lot, even giraffes standing right in front of us among the trees. In Costa Rica, we would never have seen a spider monkey or identified it’s call. In Spain, we might have missed the Griffon vultures—one of the biggest birds on the planet. Yep, a good guide, particularly a private guide or small group guide is usually worth every penny you pay.

We’re casual bird watchers — we don’t get up at the crack of dawn to visit sewage treatment ponds or horribly remote locations. Our life lists are pretty hit and miss. But we do enjoy stopping on a walk to look at a bird. Our identification skills are pretty lame, so when we’re in a nature lover’s paradise, we hire a guide. Case in point: Monteverde in Costa Rica.

Six years ago we had booked a birding tour through a kiosk at a hostel/backpacker hotel/cafe in St. Elena. The guide turned out to be fabulous. So for our latest trip we hunted him down online (luckily Peter had recorded his name in our journal from our trip six years ago).

Adrian is exactly what you want in a guide. First and foremost, he is wildly enthusiastic. He leaves you with the impression that he not only loves his job, but he simply enjoys a walk looking for birds. When we spotted a rare one, he was more excited than we were. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” He would say, grabbing his spotting scope and trotting off with us closely following, “This one is special.”

With 30 years of experience, he knew every sound, every nook and cranny in the Curi Cancha Reserve. We were surprised that he wasn’t taking us back to the more famous Monteverde Reserve just down the road where we had been six years ago. But as he explained, Monteverde had become way too crowded and had imposed too many restrictions on visitors and guides. Another advantage of a great guide, we thought, as we toured Curi Cancha, most of the time by ourselves.

First question he asked us before we took off? “Who is keeping the list.” For each bird we saw, he patiently and deliberately repeated the name several times, even spelling it if needed. He did complain that they kept changing the official names of birds which made his job challenging at times. His upbeat demeanor carried us through the less than ideal weather. After all, it’s called the Cloud Forest for a reason.

When the other guides zigged, he zagged, leading us into quieter parts of the forest. He knew where the owl generally hung out (it didn’t show for us) and where to find the spectacular resplendent quetzal, the star attraction of the Cloud Forest. But as the other groups gathered in front of the tree where the quetzals pick fruit, he took us back into the woods where it would sit to digest it’s meal. In short, he knew the ropes and had a few tricks up his sleeve! In the end, we saw 48 different species in four hours!

When he spotted a bird, he quickly set up his spotting scope, lined up the bird and stood back so we could take a look. If we wanted, he used the scope and our smartphones to capture dramatic pictures of the birds. When the birds moved too quickly, he used a green laser, pointing just below the bird, careful not to hit it with the light, so we could find it with our binoculars. He also knew which birds would fly away from the light and used the laser very judiciously.

And since we aren’t purists, we didn’t care that some of our bird sightings happened at a cafe with bird feeders. We enjoyed the mid-tour break for coffee almost as much as we enjoyed seeing the birds clustered around the feeders.

He didn’t just talk about the birds, we also got a lesson in the plants around us and the evolution of eco-tourism in Costa Rica. The wild pigs, known as peccaries, are new to Curi Cancha and were originally shy, but have learned that within the park they have nothing to fear — until the pumas choose to return, too. Adrian made us sure we saw the tarantula, and poisonous Green Pit Viper. These guides are all trained, many with college degrees in ecology or environmental studies.

But the great guides don’t just show you the sights, they also give you a glimpse into their community. Of course, we talked about the pandemic and it’s impact on his life, how a frugal lifestyle meant he had money in savings to survive. He had suffered a medical scare two years ago that brought him closer to his family and helped reorder his priorities. But he also shared how the Costa Rican medical system worked for him. He now takes more days off and limits the number of tours per week. And he gave us a clue to one aspect of how the tourist industry works when he told us next time to contact him directly for a better price on the tour. (adrianmendezc@hotmail.com)

As we ended our day the sun came out and we said to Adrian, “see you next year!”

Seville Part 2; wrapping it up

We spent nine days in Seville — longer than your typical American vacation would allow most to do. But we’re retired. We have the time. And we like settling into a place for a while. Seville was a good option for us.

We did the major sights with guides the first two days we were here. After that we just explored the neighborhoods, took a day trip to Cordoba and another to the Doñana National Park.

First Cordoba. We were wowed by the Mezquita. The contrast between the Moorish elements and the 16th century church was stark. The openness and space of the mosque. The iron gates and small chapels of the church. Not knowing much about either religious tradition, we weren’t sure what to make of the differences, but certainly felt the Moorish design was more comfortable and less intimidating.

A not-to-be-missed sight for us was the patio garden tour. Every May Cordoba holds a contest to determine the best patio. Some patios are private and others are shared by several homes. A group of the perpetual winners in the annual contest have put aside their competitive spirit and come together to create a walking tour — for a small fee. Each garden had similar components — lots of plants in pots hanging on the walls of the patio, a bird or two chirping away in a cage and water. The patios are small oasis’s for escaping the heat (even in early October it was 90°). Bougainvillea. New Guinea impatients. Azaleas. Impressive.

We also visited the small synagogue, built in 1314, and used for over a hundred years until the Jews were expelled from Spain. And this is one of just two or three synagogues remaining in Spain. Before the Inquisition, Spain had a flourishing Jewish community. We visited on Yom Kippur and came away reminded of how fragile tolerance can be.

The trip to Doñana National Park was like a trip to an entirely different world. The town on the edge of the park, El Rocio, is a white washed but largely modern town for the horsey crowd. We were told by our guide that all of the new townhouse style homes come with stables! And that at the height of the season the sleepy town swells to thousands. Hardly a person in sight and just a couple horses the day we were there.

We spent the day in a four wheeled drive Jeep, driving over what looked to be dried river beds, although our guide said not so. However, much of the area is under water after the winter rains. But the only water we saw was in irrigation canals. There are three main attractions to see in the park. We saw two of them — what our guide called the queen of the park, the Imperial Eagle. We dubbed the Griffon Vulture the crown Prince. The king, the Iberian Lynx, remained elusive. We didn’t complain; we added over a dozen birds to our life list.

And we saw plenty of the Red Deer, some of the bucks with huge sets of antlers.

Back in Seville we wrapped up our visit soaking up the ambiance and checking off a couple more sights.

Old pictures of the Seville Bull Arena show the ring hasn’t changed much over the years. It’s hard to imagine today’s audience sitting on the brick benches, but apparently they do. The section for the press seemed too close to the action, but then I thought about the photographers who stand alongside the field in football games and occasionally get hit. Of course, like all the other tourists Peter had to pretend he was a bull fighter.

The Archivo General de Indias (Archives of the Indies) was a gorgeous Renaissance building. We tried to translate the descriptions of the items in class cases with limited success — treaty between Spain and Portugal dividing up the new world, contract between Columbus and Spanish monarchs, reports from the colonies. Interesting even if we were looking at copies of the originals.

Of course, then there was our pursuit of food. We had toured the Triana Market with our guide on our second day in Seville. An excellent place to buy fish of all sorts, some meat stalls and a lot of small establishments offering tapas. A great place for a snack. We tried to tour the Mercado de Arenal, only to discover it was a victim of the pandemic. Only a few places remain open — a bike rental shop, a small vegetable stand and maybe one or two others. Sad.

We had originally intended to do quite a bit of our own cooking while in Seville. However that didn’t happen. The two of us could eat dinner in a casual tapas bar with a couple glasses of wine and three or four tapas for a quarter the cost for dinner back home. Maybe less. So why cook? Plus, the markets with fresh fruit, vegetables, meats and local delicacies just weren’t around the tempt us. The mini-markets in the old part of the city where we stayed did provide the basics — so-so bread, cheese, juice and such for breakfast. Shopping there we did cook a light dinner of sausage and vegetables on pasta one night after too big a lunch. That was about the extent of our cooking.

Then on our next to last day when we found a mega-charcuterie store in Triana. A huge number of jamons hanging behind the meat counter. Butcher hacking up whole chickens. A huge selection of different cuts of pork that we don’t see at home. A glass case of aged veal and beef. A case full of Spanish cheeses.

We finally found where locals shop — probably a quarter mile from the nearest tourist attraction. We drooled and quickly went to the Triana Market for lunch.

Seville was our last stop in Andalusia. We have heard that our next destination, Barcelona, is quite different. We shall see. For now, we have been charmed by this corner of Spain.