As I check into the gorgeous Tayko Hotel, one of the friendly staff orientates me with the city. Miquel explains that there’s a fun saying in Seville. “There’s more tapas bars than people,” he quips as he jots down a few of his favourites on the city map. He explains that here in Andalusia, they love humour and exaggeration. Over the next four days, not only will I find my own favourite tapas bar, I’ll notice that the locals absolutely have a certain joy and exuberance for life, a love of music and dance… and then there’s the flamenco!

Seville (seh-VEE-yah) is flamboyant, beautiful, stately yet inviting. ‘A vibrant sangria of civilization,’ to borrow Rick Steve’s apt description. Also, I find it to be a veritable city garden, where luscious oranges and lemons really do dangle from tree-lined bouvelards. The City of Oranges, as it’s known, is also blessed with the tallest of palm trees, vivid bird-of-paradise, parakeets and white doves in abundance, gorgeous white bougainvillea against crinkly cacti, and the jasmine blooms are just beginning to perfume the late March air. Colourful mosaics adorn walls, musicians take their turns on street corners, and the layering of the past… Roman, Moorish and Spanish is an intoxicating palimpset of history.

I‘m delighted to have some warm weather as this trip started in rainy Barcelona. I use ‘I’m’ as this is mostly a trip of solo travel. Other than a lovely two day visit with a friend in Valencia and a writing retreat still to come with friends after Seville, I’m on my own. At breakfast this morning, another solo traveller from the Netherlands and I were discussing the advantages of meandering single. We celebrated the challenge and thrill of navigating and scheduling – thankfully the Spanish train system is efficient – and the satisfaction of arriving where you’d hope to be. Call me old school, yet I prefer a physical map to google – maps of Barcelona, Valencia and Seville are already tatty, marked and ‘souvenirs’.

Solo travel allows for serendipitous encounters, both with other travellers and locals. The Spanish are welcoming with a fascinating, proud culture. As a travel writer, being on my own allows me to observe and explore thoroughly, to fully embrace the history and nuances of a place. I admit by sunset, sitting alone at an outdoor cafe in a plaza thrumming with life can feel a little lonely and yet that’s how I’ve already met so many interesting people on this trip. Taking a local tour is also essential when you’re travelling alone. In Barcelona, I did a paella making course, fantastic and delicious! Here I tour twice in one day, the old town, then the Jewish area which finishes with a group tapas date… insightful, lively and lovely company for an evening.

Speaking of exploring, we know that explorers Amerigo Vespucci and Ferdinand Magellan sailed from this river harbour, discovering new trade routes and abundant sources of cocoa, tobacco, gold and silver. When Spain boomed as a gateway to the New World in the 1500’s, Sevilla also transformed. Yet another great explorer had sailed from nearby even earlier. In 1492, the Italian Christopher Columbus had persuaded the Spanish Monarchs to finance his bold scheme to trade with the East by sailing West.

Yet that’s really more ‘recent’ history. Seville was founded as the Roman city of Hispalis, one of the most important cities in the empire. Nearby Italica was founded in perhaps 200 BC, Trajan and Hadrian called it their hometown. Move forward to 711 AD, and it became Ishbiliyah during the Islamic conquest, then part of the Arab kingdom Taifa of Seville, eventually incorporated to the Crown of Castile in 1248.

Today this rich history is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site known as the old town… the Alcazar palace, the largest Gothic cathedral in the world – once a mosque – and the General Archive of the Indies as its anchors.

I tour the old town which finishes at the grand Plaza de Espana, a Renaissance/neo-Moorish monstrosity, built as a centerpiece for the Ibero-American Exhibition in 1929. Along with the multitude of pavilions and a canal for rowing, 48 alcoves and benches pay tribute to Spain’s provinces. Ensconced in Maria Luisa park, this masterpiece is also a showcase of azulejos, small tiles. Azulejos have been produced in Spain since the 14th century. Later, the bourgeoisie began embellishing their residences to identify their houses and portray their importance and wealth. Today they might also announce a town plaza or place of business; the Cerveceria, the Carnisseria, the Cocina, the Panaderia, the Taberna.

Cultural heritages are still relevant and part of everyday life in Seville and I immerse myself in two of them. One evening I attend my first-ever Flamenco performance at the intimate Casa De La Guitarra. This art form is based on folkloric music from this area, traditionally with performers of both Spanish and gitano heritage. Flamenco music dates back to 1774 and is a UNESCO declared Masterpiece of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity. The hour long performance is one of the most poignant you could experience.

The small audience waits in anticipation and soon our senses are filled with the evocative, the soulful, the sensual from the guitarist, the singer (cantaora) and the dancer. With fingers flying over his Spanish guitar, the guitarist leads the performance. The cantaora sings and claps the palmas, essential in flamenco music to punctuate and accentuate the song and dance, then carries the mournful, then exuberant tune with the occasional ole to cheer on and praise the dance performance. And of the dancer’s performance, I can hardly do it justice by describing her deep range of emotion, the raw magnetic energy, the machine gun-fire foot work, the grace, the soulful interpretation of the music. The audience is in awe of the three performers and their creation. Indeed, I now understand the poignancy in something I had read, ‘Seville is a place where little girls still dream of becoming a flamenco dancer.’

And of that other deep-rooted cultural tradition, of bullfighting? It’s not yet quite the season here in Seville and I wouldn’t have attended, yet as Miquel had told me back at the hotel, “Half of the population still revere it as a cultural practice, the other not.” And indeed, while some consider it a blood sport, many in Spain define bullfighting as an art form. Seville’s La Maestranze is the oldest bullring in Spain.

Situated within the heart of the city, I pay a small fee to visit apparently one of the world’s most challenging bullrings. For bullfighting aficionados, the history, memorabilia and grandeur of this bullring speaks volumes and is considered an essential visit when in Seville. Construction of the circular ring began in 1749 and has seen many evolutions, today’s seating capacity is 12,000. I wander through the museum, marvelling at the matador’s costumes, the awards and the posters that are works of art unto themselves. When I venture out into the stands, the vast ring before me, I get a small sense of what La Maestranze must be like during the season… this same sensation as standing in the Roman Colosseum and imagining the roar of the crowds, the excitement, and the misery.

By chance, my go-to bar pays homage to bullfighting with iconic, aged posters and the many regal heads of bulls on display throughout the cozy, historic bar. My new friend, Maria, explains the plaques under each majestic head; the bull’s name, to which matador it lost its life, where and when. They are noble even in death and there’s some relief in knowing they are preserved for posterity.

Located on the gastronomic haven of Mateos Gago Street, just along from the Cathedral, Cerveceria Catedral Bar becomes my once-daily pause for tapas, a glass of white redjo, and just to watch the world go by after a day of discovery. As a solo traveller, don’t be afraid to return to a place where you feel comfortable and welcomed.

“Hola la senora?” Maria says cheerily, “Same, a Verdejo?

I nod, “Si, por favor,” find a seat and plot which delectable tapas I’ll have this fine, late afternoon…