One day you land in Sevilla, no matter for which reason, no matter where you came from, and the city welcomes you with its uncanny tranquility. In fact, you feel it straight away after arrival but you only adapt to slow motion after two or three days for you to get used to a diffuse feeling of serenity and ease.
The first time you leave the magic, you just think of coming back and staying longer. The second time you leave, it has already started getting into you, and you feel your heart aching. The third time you leave, your decision is made to come back for good.
Everything helps you to settle, Sevilla dresses in her most beautiful attire, sings for you, dances for and with you and finally embraces you tenderly. You feel home. You feel like you had never known what was home before. You're not falling in love, for that happened at first sight. You are getting into the structure, into the stones, into the trees, into the azahar scent. All this, again, is effortless, for you're being enchanted voluntarily. Meanwhile you're soaking in the city, Sevilla soaks into you, gets under your skin, takes possession of you. You loose track of time and you fall in the sweetest sleep, lulled between the two arms of the Guadalquivir. Sometimes, you leave for a short time, suffocated by this overwhelming mother, but as soon you're out, your heart starts bleeding again, begging for return. At every return, you realise that nothing can top the enchanting nights of Sevilla, neither its bright mornings. The sun seemed to choose this privileged spot to salute you everyday and caress your skin.
The Sevillians are part of the magic formula, they show you around, constantly pointing out the overpowering appeal of their hometown in the most caring way.
The other people you meet, lost wanderers like you, are any kind of exiles who, under the spell as well, mirror your luck and enhance the surrounding beauty by their personal charm, talent, and skills.
I am about to break the spell. I will attempt to reappear after two years in my Bermuda triangle. I still don't know if I will be able to leave. I will have at least thrown a bottle to the sea, which could be found somewhere in case I'm still missing, enchanted in Sevilla. Or I will break free and in that case, wherever I'll go, I'll carry a piece of Sevilla with me.
"Ainsi le petit prince apprivoisa le renard. Et quand l'heure du départ fut proche:
- Ah! dit le renard... Je pleurerai.
- C'est ta faute, dit le petit prince, je ne te souhaitais point de mal, mais tu as voulu que je t'apprivoise...
- Bien sûr, dit le renard.
- Mais tu vas pleurer ! dit le petit prince.
- Bien sûr, dit le renard.
- Alors tu n'y gagnes rien !
- J'y gagne, dit le renard, à cause de la couleur du blé."
in le Petit Prince - Antoine de Saint Exupéry
