Sevilla’s Cathedral, Church of the Saviour, Museum of Fine Arts, and Hospital des los Venerables

Today in Sevilla (aka Seville) I visited two churches (including Sevilla’s Cathedral), an art gallery, and an old folks home. in truth, the latter is more than an old folks home. And it’s no longer that. But I wanted to give readers a chance to chuckle over my going to an old folks home. Because, aging happens.

OK. You can stop laughing now. It’ll happen to you one day too. Hopefully.

Sevilla’s Cathedral

According to Rick Steves’ Spain tour book, Sevilla’s Cathedral (Catedral de Santa María de la Sede de Sevilla) is the third-largest in Europe, after St. Peter’s in the Vatican and St. Paul’s in London. In my admittedly foggy memory from when I was there four years ago, I thought the Duomo in Milan was bigger. Then again, I didn’t take out a measuring tape in either place, so I’m willing to take Steves’s word for it.

Both Steves and the brochure handed out at the cathedral say Sevilla’s Cathedral is also the largest Gothic cathedral in the world. OK, if they say so.

Regardless of its size ranking, in a word, it’s big. In two words, it’s very big. But, expanding on that, in three words, it’s very, very big. (If any sticklers in the crowd want to add “it’s” in my word counts in the preceding sentences, don’t. Because, in a word, really? You’re going to get hung up on that? It was a weak, inane joke. Get past it.)

The cathedral was built over the course of 100 years on the site of a mosque that was mostly torn down in 1401.

Entry to the church is through a room that displays several notable paintings that used to hang elsewhere in the Cathedral. Notable, that is, to someone who notes such things. If you think that’s me, you must be a new visitor to this blog. Welcome!

Inside, soaring ceilings cover a beautiful nave with some resplendently decorated and some less resplendently decorated chapels, a richly decorated choir, a high altar, and more. The high altar earns its name both in the high quality of its gorgeous, intricate decorations and its height.

The high altar is, in a word high. In two words… Wait I just used that bit, didn’t I? Never mind.

Other rooms off the nave include the treasury, a small sacristy, and the main sacristy. 

Two paragraphs ago, I said “and more” in reference to the contents of the nave. A few days ago, I admitted to using that literary device to fill in when I forget things. That is mostly true in this case, but there’s one element of the nave that I intentionally left out so I could defer talking about it until now.

Columbus Discovers Sevilla’s Cathedral

The nave is also the home of the final (for now) resting place of Christopher Columbus. I say “for now” because if dead people got frequent traveller rewards, Columbus would, in death, have racked up enough miles to travel for free wherever his mortal remains wanted to go.

Columbus was first buried in Valladolid, Spain, where he died. Considerably post-mortem, his travels took him to a burial spot in a monastery in Sevilla. From there, his bones finally got Columbus’ living wish. Columbus’ remains were next interred in the Dominican Republic, where, while still alive, he said he wanted to be buried. If he said it after his death that would have been something.

But he didn’t get his wish eternally. He was later reburied in Cuba. In 1902, his remains were moved again, this time to where they are now, back to Sevilla, in the Cathedral this time.

Today, his tomb is held in the air by four pallbearer statues.

According to Steves, after all those possibilities for substitution, some people doubted that the Cathedral had Columbus’ remains. So, in 2006, on the 500th anniversary of Columbus’ death, authorities took DNA samples from the remains. Tests confirmed that it likely was Columbus. What did they compare the DNA against to give them any confidence whatsoever? Damned if I know.

Giralda Bell Tower

If a European church I visit has a tower and I’m allowed to climb it, I will. To protect their heritages, most old European cities don’t allow any construction in their historical centres higher than what’s there now. Church towers are usually the tallest structures. So they normally have the best views.

I dread the time, hopefully many years from now, when I’ll no longer be fit enough to climb them.

Sevilla’s Cathedral has a tower, the Giralda Bell Tower. Included in the admission to the Cathedral, I was allowed to climb it. I did.

Not all of the former mosque was demolished. The bell tower used to be a minaret. The top (see picture above) looks Christian, not Muslim. That’s because the old top fell in 1356. They built the current top in the 16th century.

The climb to the top was not like most other church towers I’ve climbed. Most tower climbs involve spiral staircases with tight turning circles. They’re often sufficiently narrow to be claustrophobia-inducing. Often, unless the church is fortunate enough to have two such staircases—one they use for visitors climbing up and the other for down—the ascent and descent might involve a lot of waiting on landings until people going in the other direction pass.

The tower climb at Sevilla’s Cathedral, on the other hand, involves a long series of flat ramps, each turned at a 90-degree angle to the preceding and succeeding ramps. The only steps are one, straight flight at the top.

Rather than claustrophobia-inducing, the ramps and flight of stairs are wide enough to accommodate single-file, two-directional traffic for the entire length. That’s not to say the width was generous. There was the occasional rubbing of shoulders, but that was accidental, not unavoidable.

The top offered great views of Sevilla and the surrounding area.

I was at the top, close to the church bells, at 12:30. That gave me the thrill of participating in a performance of synchronized jumping out of skins by most of the people present as a bell struck the half-hour. I waited for my pulse to slow before heading back down.

Church of the Saviour

Entry to the Church of the Saviour (Iglesia del Salvador) was included in the combo ticket I was required to buy at the Cathedral. Had I done it the other way around, I could have bought a ticket for only the Church of the Saviour.

The Church of the Saviour is much, much, much smaller than Sevilla’s Cathedral, but it’s a knockout. As usual, I feel the need to make clear that when I say something like “knockout,” I’m speaking rhetorically. I maintained consciousness at all times.

Rick Steves claims that the Church of the Saviour is Sevilla’s second-largest church. I find that hard to believe. Relative to the Cathedral, it’s almost telephone booth size, although much taller. (Or, for the benefit of young people who have never seen a telephone booth, small closet size, although much taller.) I exaggerate, but after coming from the Cathedral, with only a lunch break between, it seemed that way.

What the Church of the Saviour lacks in size, it makes up for in splendour.

Vibrant, literally three-dimensional decorations rhetorically jump out at you.

On a sunny day, such as today, light streams through stained glass windows to cast vivid colours on grey columns when it hits them.

There’s also a so-so sacristy and a tranquil courtyard.

Museum of Fine Arts

Sevilla’s Museum of Fine Arts (Museo de Bellas Artes) is a mid-size art gallery. Its collection, which contains mostly paintings, but also some sculptures, ranges from the 15th to the 20th century. It doesn’t have many big names on display. (At least not big to someone who knows nothing about art, such as, say, me.)

The collection is laid out mostly chronologically over two floors. Almost all of the paintings up to, if memory serves, almost the 19th century, are based on religious themes. Christian religious themes, to be specific. That is particularly true of the paintings from the earlier centuries. I guess that’s because that’s what paid the big bucks for artists of those times.

Almost all of the more recent paintings are secular. These include portraits, landscapes, other tableaux, and a dog.

Even if you’re less of an art aficionado than I am (is that even possible?), a visit to Sevilla’s Museo de Bellas Artes is worthwhile, if not for the art, then for the four courtyards the building wraps around. Each is different. All are quaintly beautiful.

Hospital des los Venerables

The Hospital des los Venerables was once an old-folks home and hospital for aged priests and poor people. Wait. Priests weren’t poor? But I thought … never mind.

The building also includes an old church that’s now used as a church only once per year. Or once per month. I forget.

(OK. I guess I visited three churches today, not two. Sorry.)

In the brochure they hand out at the entrance, the church looks stunning. The multi-hued decorations are dazzling. The church looks stunning. In the brochure. Not in real life.

That may have been just the time of day I visited. I arrived after 5:00 p.m. and Europe has already shifted off daylight savings time for the year. It wasn’t yet sunset, but the sun was low in the sky.

The artificial lighting inside wasn’t particularly bright, so the interior of the church was dim. I could see the colours depicted in the brochure, but I had to use my imagination to visualize their vibrancy.

The thing is, the windows in the church are small and sparse. Even at midday on a bright day, I don’t imagine it gets much brighter in there. I suspect they brought in stage lighting just to take the brochure picture to entice tourists.

In its modern-day incarnation, the building also contains a couple of art galleries. One is a single, small room. It contains about a dozen paintings.

I can’t tell you anything about the larger gallery. It’s upstairs and closes at 2:00 (aka 14:00 in Euro-speak) every day. My ticket will get me in there another day when it’s open. I may go back. Then again, you know what an art fan I am. We’ll see.

The building surrounds a beautiful courtyard and there’s another courtyard off to the side. The old folk probably took great pleasure in the courtyards back in the day, assuming they were still in sound enough mind to take great pleasure in anything. I know; I know. I’m such an optimist, aren’t I?