Team Basil amazed itself today by getting out of bed early enough to drive to Carmona and explore the town before everything closed for lunch. Gold stars for all concerned.

We zipped down the motorway to Carmona and without any shenanigans from SatNav, parked ourselves up on a huge car park which is apparently reserved for fairs. Luckily nom dodgems or big wheel was apparent so I think we are set fair for the night.

It was a fifteen minute walk to the old town for any normal group of humans but we have to add 30% to any walking estimates as a certain member of our team (not me) has to cock his leg on every other lamppost!

The tourist information office was situated within the massive Roman gateway which marks the entrance to old Carmona. The lady on duty provided me with a map and pointed out the main buildings of interest.

When I rejoined Sarah she had heard the sound of drums and a brass band nearby and we went to investigate. We found a somewhat bizarre sight. Under a huge metal frame were 35 men, tightly packed together with the frame’s enormous weight supported on their padded shoulders. The men were moving the frame along one small, co-ordinated step at a time. Following them was a brass band and a band of drummers.

We didn’t know what was going on and in any event Melek was extremely frightened by the loud noise of the drums, so we beat a retreat. Although we were to come across the same scene about one and a half hours later, as this procession was making its slow way around the old town. I nipped back in to Tourist Information but the lady was unable to shed any light on the strange proceedings.

Carmona old town turned out to be another scenic gem. Cobbled streets, beautiful churches, monasteries and convents, together with Roman walls and a Moorish castle. It was a town, whose cobbled streets, encouraged just wandering.

Yesterday, and again today, we have heard the unmistakable “clack” of stork’s beaks as they build their nests and begin to mate. Swallows have been in the sky for the last week at least. Spring is coming to Southern Spain.

We returned to Basil for lunch after having walked five miles or so. There was one more sight I wished to visit and this was a Roman Necropolis. Investigating opening times I found that this would close at 3pm and so having wolfed a sandwich I was off once more.

The Necropolis (a fancy name for a cemetery) was across the road from the excavations of a colosseum. The colosseum was barely discernible as such but in the necropolis many of the tombs had been built well underground and so had survived the ravages of time. None of the the elaborate funerary monuments which had probably marked the original tombs have survived, but much of the underground element of the graves were visible and it was interesting to walk around the excavations and the attached museum.

The Guardian’s recommendations have all been good. Three out of three. If I was to pick one it would have been yesterday’s Ecija, but all three have been worthy of exploration.

Note: back at Basil I have explored the strange goings on with the 35 men and the metal frame. I have found from a combination of Google and YouTube that the men were from the “brotherhood of hope” and were practising for the town’s Easter celebrations. The metal frame is a stand in for a huge platform containing depictions of Christ and other figures relating to the crucifixion. This is marched around town accompanied by a band and proceeded by men dressed like the Klu Klux Klan. Anyone who knows more about what is going on please enlighten me in the comments.