15. Fine lager in Seville, Tuesday 17th September 2002

Even business trips to Spain have crawl opportunities. On this particular foreign odyssey I was accompanied by Elsevier colleagues Bruce Roberts and John Peel from the marketing department. Kicking off at 8.30pm is no problem in Spain, as we started with a glass of Cruzcampo in the Meson Cinqo Jotas, a tapas bar which looked to be part of a chain that had pig legs hanging from the ceiling merrily drying. This whetted our appetites for some quite good fish and white wine at La Isla restaurant.

After topping up the alcohol in there, John Peel lead the way around the back of the cathedral and Alkazar thing to a rather small bar, the Alimaza, where we were served pints of good lager by a couple of cute bar wenches. This place then shut, but a few yards up the road was the Santa Cruz, a lively bar with more good lager [not too fizzy]. Enlightening discussions on the relative suitabilities of arts and science graduates to marketing jobs followed, settled by an arm-wrestle.

This bar then chucked out, but yet again, a few yards up the road we were satisfied, and sat outside on some nice pavement tables [how continental]. They then closed, but next door salvation was at hand with a couple of people playing the guitar outside another bar, the Alvaro Poregil. More generic, though nice tasting lager followed served by a bloke behind a very small counter. The toilet, however, was little more than a single trough in a wardrobe ...

Yet again, they called time, but yet again we found hope, in the shape of Bodega Belmonte, a larger establishment with the feel of a Hogshead or Firkin pub about it. Finally, we couldn't fit any more in, and after lots of loud swearing for effect, we decided to make our ways back to our hotels. For some reason John went inside a colonial Spanish looking hotel and managed to come out a different way - Bruce went to look for him and gave up and went home too. I felt that perhaps this was a good idea, especially as it was pissing with rain, so I hailed a cab as I could not read the map and was duly deposited at the Hotel Al Andalus.

The cab ride must have desiccated me, so I thought that what the doctor ordered would be a quick beer at a bar which wasn't any good in the foyer, but which I had nonetheless not visited before. However, I had regained the taste for booze and brightly-coloured liquids, so foolishly elected to rapidly have two large Campari and sodas as a nightcap, thus rendering myself hungover next day for the plane trip home. Not surprisingly, I declined the offer of free booze on the Iberia flight.


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Dan Lovegrove
dan@doctor-lovegrove.com

Last updated 19th September 2002.