In a sense I didn’t seek Seville. Seville came to me when we won the competition for the British Pavilion at Expo 92.
I’ll never forget the feeling of ebullience coming down the steps of the aeroplane. The oven-like heat, and the taxi ride into the narrow streets that were lined with real orange trees, loaded with fruit. From then onwards it was a pedestrian city. Glimpses through street doors revealed courtyards within, often with fountains and cascades of flowers from the balconies. All kinds of wonderful scents in the great heat of the city. Meals in courtyard restaurants. Sea bass baked in a wooden box filled with crystals of rock salt – somehow baked fish in this baking city seemed appropriate.
Then there was the cathedral, a staggeringly huge and glorious building. When you entered from the brilliant sunshine, the gloom was extraordinary. Only a few gleams of gold gave some orientation. And the climb up the vast cathedral tower, its broad steps wide enough for men on horses, brought you up to a panoramic view of the city shimmering in the heat – surely one of the greatest vistas in Europe. Then memories of a train ride to El Puerto de Santa Maria, where seafood fresh from the Atlantic – dozens of types of shrimps, prawns, langoustines and lobsters – was sold from stalls on the waterfront. Accompanying this, home-made potato crisps were made before your eyes by a machine of wonderful simplicity. Pre-cooked potatoes sat in holes in a slowly revolving disc. The disc passed over a knife which sliced a wafer-thin sliver of potato which dropped into boiling fat below. No manufactured bags of crisps, whether hand-cooked, hand-sliced or rock-salted, will ever surpass these.
And, of course, memories of Expo 92 itself. For the Spanish, who do carnivals and festivals so well, an Expo is the apotheosis of fun and celebration. There were fireworks every night for six months. Fountains and water jets choreographed to music. And what seemed like the entire population of Seville came out in the cool of the evening to parade around the Expo site to enjoy the spectacle. Most of the national pavilions provided some kind of lighting and special effects. The British Pavilion, which we had designed as a demonstration of energy conservation, had very muted lighting behind its 16-metre-high water wall but this nevertheless made a dramatic background for the crowds surging round the Expo site.
For me a highlight of the Expo was the Finnish Pavilion, designed by a group of five young architects who called themselves Monark, where one approached through a devil’s canyon between a stainless steel rectangular building and a curvilinear wooden building. Some of the South American countries brilliantly exposed the historic tension between themselves and their host (and former conqueror) Spain.
There is no doubt that Seville is a wonderful city to explore, and with potential daytrips to Jerez, Cadiz, Ronda and even Cordoba (by a spectacular train ride), it justifies a complete holiday. However, as our office collectively proved in 1992, a weekend can be an experience you never forget.
We all flew to Jerez in the morning, arriving in time for a long Spanish lunch. It was the time of the annual equestrian festival and, driving in from the airport, we could see riders in full celebratory costume converging on the town from every direction. After lunch we saw the amazing spectacle of the whole town celebrating and taking part in the various events. Prize-winners would ride proudly (and with incredibly straight backs) holding the horse’s reins in one hand and their silver trophy in the other. The whole town was in festive attire – the men in immaculate suits and the women in dresses consisting of layer upon layer of brightly-coloured materials.
After this wonderful kick-off, our visit could not go wrong. We could have saved a lot on our hotel bookings as many of the younger members of the office (who showed great stamina) didn’t go to bed at all. They arrived at the airport on Monday morning, hollow-eyed, with stories of wonderful tapas bars, of the clubs where flamenco dancers took the stage at regular intervals throughout the night, of discovering hidden gardens and courtyards, or rides in horse-drawn carriages and of the wonderful garden of the Alcazar Palace. For my part, I have been back two or three times since 1992 and found the city is as spectacular as ever.

Nicholas Grimshaw founded Nicholas Grimshaw & Partners in 1980, was knighted in 2002 and in 2004 was elected president of the Royal Academy, where his sketchbooks are on exhibition until 31 January.
AT203/November 09 p104.