There is a charm and compelling fascination about Seville which produces in the traveller visiting the city for the first time a sensation of physical ecstasy. The spell of the Pearl of Andalusia is instant and enduring; I have not met a man or woman proof against its witchery. George Borrow shed tears of rapture as he beheld Seville from the Cristina Promenade, and “listened to the thrush and the nightingale piping forth their melodious songs in the woods, and inhaled the breeze laden with the perfume of its thousand orange gardens.”

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