A huge arch fills the early evening sky. Lit with thousands of light bulbs, it glows gold against the darkening blue heavens. Hanging from it are tens of thousands of lanterns that bathe the fairground in soft, colourful light and illuminate the promenading crowds, who have come to eat, drink, dance and sing well into the night and, for some, into the next morning. This is La Feria.
Every April, the city lurches into a week of bacchanalian celebration, when hundreds of casetas or marquees are erected on the fairground on the other bank of the Guadalquivir. At the back of each marquee is a small kitchen where plates of tapas are prepared, perhaps fried fish, perhaps tortilla, but more likely pinchitos morunos, spiced lamb skewers. The spectacle is the crowd itself, clothed in Andalusian traditional costume. The women look stunning, dressed in body-hugging flamenco dresses, the men walking proudly beside them sporting their traje corto (a short jacket) along with tight trousers and riding boots. The children dress in diminutive versions of the same. It is as much an exposition of local culture as it is a party. This rather beautiful display of humanity is juxtaposed with La Calle del Infierno, or Hell Street, on the other side of the Feria – hectares of theme-park rides and teenagers drinking rebujitos, a potent mix of dry sherry and lemonade.
The Feria de Abril kicks off with a street parade of traditional horses and carriages, which also signals the start of the spring bullfighting season. Seville’s bullring is the oldest in Spain, with construction beginning in the early 1700s. However, the banning of bullfighting by King Carlos III in the late 1700s halted the building work, and it was only after his reign ended that the stadium was completed – the result is a mélange of different styles unified by its gold and red ochre colouring. The bullfighters make their way into the ring through a phalanx of fans. Bullfighters are revered in Spain, their artful heroics when pitted against a tonne of angry bull making them demi-gods. While there is no escaping the barbaric fact that no bull makes it out of the bullring alive, there is the chance the bullfighter may not either. So, despite the ecstatic adoration that surrounds them, bullfighters seem oblivious to the festivities, instead carrying with them a dark cloud of fatalism and certain aloofness. Perhaps they know they may be closer to heaven than the clamouring masses around them.
