To be or not to be… a Perroflauta or Pijo, that is the question

Anyone who´s spent more than a few weeks in Seville will notice there are two basic sectors of society you can fall into, They are ´Perroflauta´ or ´Pijo´. Perro what?´ you might ask. Ok, for the uninitiated, Perro is dog, flauta is flute, put them together and you get crusty hippy accompanied by dog. And ´Pijo´, think chinos, pink shirts with some sort of equestrian or polo related motive, a very sensible haircut and optional Bradley wigginsesque sideburns.

So that doesn´t leave much room for anyone in between, apart from being condemned to a hinterland existance of never quite fitting in.

I´ve dabbled with perroflautaism, it´s hard not to living on the Alameda. Once in a while I´ll rock a pair of harem pants, but deep down I feel a fake. And let´s face it, I´ll never be a pijo.

Ok, so there are some Sevillanos who fall outside of these camps, but that´s just the thing, they end up being outsiders. So when I stumbled on a place that seemed to attract people who were like me, I practically leapt for joy.

The place in question was the bar at Sala El Cachorro in Triana. With a tiny theatre at the back, you can choose to enjoy the balmy night air in the patio breathing in the heady aroma from the Dama de Noche (a kind of nocturnal Jasmine), or lounge in the main cafe that invites you in from the street.

The food gives a nod to the East with hummus, and tatziki and feta finding their way onto montaditos rather than your usual pig related fair.

The night I was there I saw a play that I have to admit I understood very little of partly due to its use of old Spanish, but in general they play host to a smorgasbord of multimedia delights such as short films, documentaries, flamenco and theatre workshops.

I for one am going to go back and check out what else they have to offer; my visit to Sala El Cachorro has definitely left me wanting more.

Sala El Cachorro, Calle Procurador 19, Triana


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