Irish Girl Found Some New Potatoes

So I'm back in the land of the living. Or should I say the land of the computer with internet connectivity?

I flew back to Marrakech from Sevilla this morning, sans husband. He's still trekking around Spain enjoying the countryside and their fabulous beer. I unfortunately am back to reality tomorrow morning and am off to work. I have however enjoyed my return to Marrakech being lazy and watching as many TV shows as my computer will download while eating in bed. (Hubby will yell at me later for this which is why I did it while he is off traveling. Hah-Hah! Have to find the silver lining somewhere!)

Right so Sevilla. Awesome town. Totally my speed. Very young, very hip (I felt so unfashionable) and lots of great food. On our first day we discovered a tapas dish by the name of Patatas Bravas which on the English menu we were provided translated to Brave Potatoes. What girl of Irish descent wouldn't try potatoes by that name? I ask you! Basically it's home fries covered in aioli and hot sauce. There is of course room for interpretation on this and it's prepared differently in different bars (yes we tried it more than once) as well as different cities (I believe), but I give Sevilla's Patatas Bravas in particular two thumbs up. Garren and I will be attempting them on his return to Marrakech. Because well why not. Seriously yum.

We we also be attempting to make a passable sangria. We've tried before with not much luck. (It sat in the fridge for 2 weeks because it was that "good") But oh my, our first taste of Sangria in Sevilla in the picturesque area of Santa Cruz was lip smacking. Delicioso. (Hence the above picture, although as you can see, Garren was having beer and totally in his happy place.)

Basically what I'm saying here is that Sevilla and its laid back culture is on the retirement list. Seriously all anyone seems to do is eat, drink, take a siesta and then repeat. I'm sure there is work being done somewhere. Right? The retirement list also currently includes Santa Barbara and the Loire Valley. In case you were wondering.

We're not picky just a little place for us to lay our head and enjoy the rest of our lives. Where's the winning lottery number when you need it? Oh that's right in Spain. They sell lotto tickets everywhere. Little old men walking around asking everyone if they want one. And then actual lotto windows where you can buy more. Freaky gaming Catholics (Bingo anyone?) how I love your beautiful Spanish city.