The serendipity effect

While in Spain exploring Sevilla and following the warm genealogical trail of Charlene’s maternal grandmother, we stumbled into some cool serendipity. It’s a fun story, worth telling ... with a worthwhile takeaway.  For now I’ll call it the “Serendipity Effect."

While researching things to do in Sevilla, Charlene and I heard that "the international festival of the [Spanish] guitar" was taking place around the city during the month of October. That week, several of the world’s leading guitar masters were in town for a special event - to pay homage to Paco Lucia, a mentor to many and pioneering artist of the genre, who passed away earlier this year.

Remarkably, we were able to secure $12 tickets to the commemorative concert at an intimate little venue buried in a maze of back streets. To be clear, this is the kind localized event you wouldn’t even hear about if you weren’t already in town … and even then, you had to ferret it out.

The concert didn’t start until 8:30 PM, so - (North) Americans that we are - we figured we’d just taxi over to the area around 6:30, find a cozy neighborhood eatery nearby, and enjoy a relaxed dinner before the show.

Problem being that Spaniards don’t even think of eating dinner until well after our show’s start time. On the way over, I asked the taxi driver if he knew of a good, local place to eat near the theater. He actually laughed at me - nicely, of course. “6:30 is snack time! Eat dinner AFTER the show. You Americans eat so early!  Most places won’t start opening for dinner until 8:30 or later.” Upon further questioning, he opined, “Dinner time is 10, 10:30 - the best time to meet with your friends and have a relaxed meal ....”

So a classic scenario unfolded: Charlene strolling around with her parents and our friends the Hawthornes, lingering on well-lighted street corners and in the occasional shop while I did a running multi-block circuit, polling bartenders and strolling couples about possible places to eat at such a ridiculously early hour.

Some of you may recognize the scene: margins growing thin, people already feeling slightly disoriented - now a little alarmed, blood sugar levels dropping. Doug cheerily/grimly determined to find “that special place” that will adorn the evening’s experience with festive memories. Clock ticking loudly. (This will likely trigger theophostic echoes for Justin and Janelle when they read this.)

So happens that there’s this little place around the corner, aptly named “El Rinconcillo” ("the little corner place”) which, I was told, would have food if anyone did. The bartender there assured me they could provide us with a nice round of tapas to tide us over to the 7 pm opening (!) of the restaurant section, 20 minutes hence. We shepherded our little flock into the warm interior, where we huddled like hobbits around giant barrel-tables for drinks and tapas in anticipation of hot food to come.

Turns out El Rinconcillo is ... literally ... Sevilla’s oldest restaurant. No kidding. Been serving up drinks and traditional fare to locals, going on two centuries. Our little dinner-party plane pulled out of a perilous nose-dive just before hitting the “just get me some food, darnit, any food, doesn’t matter!” waters ... and cruised on into one of the trip’s more memorable culinary events. Walls dripping with history and memorabilia, bar filled with locals, a delicious array of consumables populated with savory items and animal parts unheard of in US kitchens.

The piece de resistance: this very restaurant likely served up drinks and essentially the same fare to Lydia’s great-grandfather. We figured the likelihood that her forebears ate in this actual establishment was very high, given the location, their social class, etc. So we sat there grinning and noshing, visualizing ancestral Spaniards doing the same, then immersed ourselves in Spanish music virtually unchanged over the centuries. Truly a “living history” moment.

Takeaway:  Get going. Put yourself out there. Take the steps you know to take, and follow the trail where it leads you. Move off the well-grooved track, beyond your comfort zones - keeping all your channels open, gleaning what you can along the way, acting on what you learn, asking often for help. Once you are in motion - but when you least expect it - serendipity sneaks up on you, leading to outcomes you could never have imagined back home.

Enjoy the ride!