The Port of Seville

So I drove off to Seville, leaving Ronda at 7 o’clock in the morning, with my son and three other of deodorant smelling 16-year olds on their way to a chemistry project at Seville’s University of Technology and Science. I dropped them all off near the Campus and saw that I was just across the road of the Port of Seville. Or at least the part on a canal at the east side of the river Guadalquivir, once Spain’s most important harbour and connection to the outside world. It looked half abandoned so my heart leapt!
I saw piles of metal waste, pieces of art by themselves, and alongside piled up laid thousands of iron bars, which I assumed were the end product of the metal waste.
I saw what looked like abandoned warehouses, but at closer look they had been squatted by thousands of pigeons, feeding themselves on the rests of cereals stored there.
I saw amazing architecture, industrial design and old fashioned handicraft and stylish decorations.
I saw some people at work; I admire them for their physicality and toughness. I see purity in doing heavy work in dirty places.
I saw colours, lots of gorgeous colours. It was cloudy and pretty cold, I seriously needed a pee but could not get myself to leaving the place. At least not until I felt I had taken enough pictures…

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