The Plaza de España, Seville

        The first sound that catches my ear is of castanets being shaken by a street vendor. Across the square someone is playing Unchained Melody on panpipes, a song which seems quite out of place in Seville. Then I notice the clip-clop of horses circumnavigating the central fountain. All this overlays the low hum of tourists chatting to one another.

        We are in the Plaza de España in Seville, one of the city’s less heralded sights. Indeed, I’m sure when I first visited eleven years ago it had been essentially forgotten. It is found beyond the old tobacco factory, at the end of an avenue of lovely orange and plane trees, where parakeets chirp to each other and policemen stand around stroking and feeding snacks to horses.

        It was built for the Ibero-Americana Exposition in the 1920s, and looks very striking. A long crescent of columns stretches between two towers. The red and yellow flag of Spain flies over the central building, and there’s a moat crossed by handsome single arch bridges whose balustrades are painted blue and white. You can rent a boat and row yourself along the water is you so desire.

        What I like most is the series of paintings that extends the length of the crescent. The predominant colours are blue and yellow, and the images are painted on tiles. Each shows some episode from Spanish history, such as Columbus departing for the New World from Huelva and explaining his plans to the King in Salamanca.

        Many of the paintings are dedicated to scenes from the reconquest of Spain by the Catholic Kings. They show the Christian army bivouacked below the dramatic cliffs of Cuenca, and the surrender of the Muslims in Granada and Málaga. It crossed my mind that in politically correct Britain these pictures might be controversial, arousing the ire of some too-easily offended busybody.

        We take our leave of the square to the sound of Strangers in the Night being played on panpipes.