Last night in Sevilla meant, obviously, one thing: Going out Sevillana style...kind of...
The night started off with a farewell cocktail at Flaherty's: great choice because it's the only place in Spain that I've found decent buffalo sauce. Ignacio, my intercambio from when I studied abroad, was supposed to meet me there but because my American phone was not functional and my Spanish phone was nonexistent, we couldn't get in touch...needless to say the night did not work out in our favor.
SO, the Sevilla veterans (Shane and I) decided to take the group to Plaza Alfalfa for some drinks. I introduced some new friends to La Rebotica's massive 5 Euro mojitos and Shane introduced us to some of his Spanish friends. Ale and I were talking to some French men who had been living in Seville for a few years and I turn to my right and see Kerry standing two feet away from me. After trying to make plans to meet up all week and failing, we ended up bumping into each other completely by chance!
By the end of the night it was me, Ale, Shane and his friend Fernando. Shane decided he wanted a Spanish name; it was tough, but Fernando christened him Alvaro; me, Cristina; Ale, Marta; Me again, Estrella; and Ale, was still Marta despite her protests. (More on Marta later)
Thinking we were clever like the Sevillanos, we decided to make our way to Alameda to find a discoteca...stopped at a kebab stand on the way, lost Fernando and company, but bravely ventured forth.
FUN FACT: I have never successfully made it to or from the bars in Alameda without the help of a Spaniard…
We finally stumbled upon Alameda and failed to find a single open bar/disco...sooo we finished our kebabs and hopped in the first cab back to the hotel.
Mission "Go out in Alameda": Still Incomplete
