I might as well admit it now: I come from a family of staunch, conservative monarchists – ex-armed forces, Conservative Thatcherites. While I – and my brother – reject most of their political beliefs (which inspires some good, heated debates round the dinner table), one aspect of their Britishness has stuck with me: royalty-watching.

I can put this down to early immersion: my late aunt worked for the Queen, and used to take me and my brother as children to “Buck House” for the big occasions, while our parents either watched with the crowds or stayed at home. We would hang out in my aunt’s office and then go upstairs to watch the state carriages arriving in the palace’s inner courtyard from the balcony. There are plenty of family anecdotes from those visits, including Prince Andrew bumping into my brother as he ran along the corridor.

The Silver Jubilee in 1977 was one such occasion, so I find it hard not to think about these extraordinary experiences when British royal events approach. My children are thoroughly immersed in Andalucian culture, so I decided to balance out their cultural self-identity with a dose of Englishness. And what could be more English than a bunting-draped, cake-festooned, flag-waving Jubilee village party?

My brother lives in a little village in Suffolk, which joins with the next-door hamlet for such occasions. He helped organise this party – he also raised funds to build their excellent playground (can you tell I’m quite proud?). It was one of thousands held across Britain to celebrate Queen Elizabeth II’s Diamond Jubilee – 60 years as the British sovereign. That’s a long time for anyone to be in the same job, even if you do live in a palace and have lots of servants.

The proceedings started off with the arrival of “The Queen” and “Prince Philip” in a coach and horses. Her Majesty (take note, BBC presenters) inspected the bicycles and then made her way to the field – with its bunting-ed tents, trestle tables heaving with red, white and blue-decorated cakes, hog roast, and drinks tent with beer barrels and Pimm’s – to make her speech, which was hilarious, in her inimitable accent.

Everyone had brought along a salad, and I’ve eaten far worse at restaurants. After a delicious lunch (my carnivorous son loved his hog bap), we troughed out on cakes, tarts and other sweet delights. The paper tablecloth was even printed with a red and white crown motif, a home-made potato print. These Suffolk people do things in style.

The next excitements were the best-dressed wheelbarrows and silly hats. Big Ben won, from an impressive field, and the pompoms were pipped at the post by a corgi.

Then we had the tug(s) of war – men’s and ladies’ – between the two villages.

My son is heaving-ho in the stripey Tshirt, just behind his uncle (in red).

Lastly, after the various five-a-side games (my brother was goalie in the adults’), was the sing-song.

The weather was typically schizophrenic – sun out: jumper off; sun out for more than five minutes: outer T-shirt off; sun in: jumper and other layers back on again; rain: coat on, brolly up, etc.

That night we went to see a firework display on the Deben river, followed by the lighting one of 4,000-odd beacons around the UK.

The following day, we went to the street party in my parents’ village, but all felt a little partied-out so we just made a brief visit, plus the weather wasn’t great. Here are few pictures from it.

We all had a wonderful time – especially my children playing with their cousins, whom they don’t see that often, at the Jubilee jamboree. They understood that the parties were in honour of the Queen, which was all you can expect at their age. I threw myself into watching all the celebrations on TV, and via Twitter comments – the regatta on Sunday (though I fell asleep – blame the BBC’s rubbish coverage, of which Fearne Cotton was the nadir) and the concert, of which hula-hooping Grace Jones and Robbie “Let Me Entertain You” Williams were the highlights.

Prince Charles came off extremely well from the proceedings – his personal memories accompanying the Queen’s home videos shown on the BBC, of him and his sister rolling down a grassy bank at Balmoral; his speech to his Mama after the concert; and his surprise visit with the Duchess of Cornwall to a street party in London. My view, anyway, has changed; he seemed to be relaxed, enjoying himself and at ease among all those showbiz legends (Tom Jones, Shirley Bassey, Elton John). Maybe he is no longer as stuffy and spiky as he’s always been portrayed, or perhaps he’s just mellowed with age. A more human prince.

How was your Jubilee, if you celebrated it, whether in the UK or elsewhere? Did you eat too much cake as well? Is there such a thing as too much cake?

Curro was the mascot for Seville's Expo 92.

Today is the 20th anniversary of the opening day of the Exposicion Universal 1992.

I wasn’t here for this momentous six-month event in Sevilla, a global cultural fiesta which welcomed representations from 111 countries, but I sure as hell wish I had been. Many of these nations built pabellones (pavilions) in Isla Cartuja, the site where the Expo was held, to show a microcosm of their culture and architecture, including the UK, the US and Japan. Each autonomous community of Spain also had its own pavilion.

This video (I’d start watching at 0:24) will give you an idea of the scale of Expo 92. The exhibition opened its doors to the public on 20 April 1992, closing on 12 October, Dia de Colon (Columbus Day).

The total number of visits to the Expo 92 was a staggering 42 million (41,814571 to be precise). Many Sevillanos met and married foreigners who had come to work at the Expo, returning to their native countries with them, and many extranjeros ended up staying here for good, including friends of mine.

Seville's ticket to the big time.

You can’t overstate the importance of the Expo in Seville’s development, economic and social. Before 1992, Seville was a charming, old-fashioned city in backwards Andalucia. It took four hours to drive 95km to the beach, ten to travel the 500km to Madrid by car, along single-carriageway roads. In social terms, to quote one veteran English resident, “Seville was still in the 1960s, as far as rights and respect for women and foreigners went.”

Thanks to the exhibition, the city’s infrastructure, and that of the entire region, was dragged into the late 20th century, with motorways, a new airport, new bus and train stations, and a high-speed rail service (the AVE) halving the journey time to Madrid. Six new bridges were built crossing the Guadalquivir. The attention of the world was focused on Seville, and the minds of its residents were opened up by the cultural mix that the Expo brought.

Two of the new bridges built for the Expo, linking the site on Isla Cartuja with the rest of the city. Taken from the Pabellon de Navegacion's tower.

During the Expo itself, my husband always tells me (he worked on the construction of the Canadian, French and Thai pabellones, and in restaurants during the event itself), the atmosphere was amazing - a mix of nationalities never before seen in Seville. He had hordes of people camping in the garden of his house (where we live now), with all-night parties which used to piss the neighbours off no end. He says it was like being at university again.

The Pabellon de Navegacion, an integral part of the Expo 92, which reopened earlier this year.

So what’s left of Expo these days? The Pabellon de Navegacion on the river
was an important part of the Expo, celebrating Seville’s part in the Discovery of America – the year of the Expo was no accident. It was 500 years after Columbus found America, and the theme of the exhibition was “The Age of Discovery”. This pavilion was a nautical-themed building, with replicas of the three ships of Colon, now resident in a dock near Huelva city. A tower next to the pabellon provided panoramic views of the Expo site, and the city. Both have been refurbished, and were re-inaugurated in January 2012.

La Cartuja, the Carthusian monastery and latterly ceramics factory (founded by an Englishman), which was the Expo's HQ.

And the 15th-century monastery Santa Maria de las Cuevas, on Isla Cartuja, as the headquarters of the Expo, was where Columbus stayed – it all ties in very neatly. La Cartuja, as the monastery is known, now houses an art centre, the Centro Andaluz de Arte Contemporaneo.

The NO8DO sculpture from the Jardines de Guadalquivir - the symbol of Seville city.

Two sites which have been restored are adjoining riverside gardens, the Jardines del Guadalquivir and the Jardin Americano. They reopened two years ago, but are not very much visited and thus provide a haven of tranquility close the city centre. Although they’re not as well maintained as they could be.

Jardin Americano, which had plants from many Latin American countries, including rare palms. The roof has various trees poking up through it.

An abandoned sculpture in the Jardines del Guadalquivir

Tomorrow there are guided tours of the remaining pavilions from the Expo. They leave every half hour from 10am-12.30 and 4-4.30pm, from the Pabellon de Europa. I’m familiar with some of them, but am hoping to go on the tour to get the full picture.

Useful links:

Guided tours of Expo 92 Pavilions
List of Expo 92 Pavilions
Jardin Americano
Monasterio La Cartuja
Pabellon de Navegacion

Today there was a general strike here in Spain, called by the two main trade unions, the CCOO and CGT, to protest against the new PP government’s labour reforms.

I wanted to go on the march here in Seville, which was leaving from various points in the centre and converging on Parque Maria Luisa, but my son was sick so he stayed home from school (they had a minimal staff working).

However I did manage to slip away for a few hours in the afternoon (thanks, suegra) to see the last part of the day’s events. I didn’t take my camera, to be more discreet, as some people can be self-conscious when they see a lens. The iPhone did the job fine.

As usual, the press quoted widely varying estimates of turnout in Seville, ranging from 10,000 (according to the police) to 100,000 (say the unions). In terms of participation, the national average was 77%, with administration 57% and construction and industry 97%. For full details from the two main unions, see here.

When I arrived (by metro, uncrowded) lots of people were walking up Calle San Fernando from the park, so I thought I’d missed the whole thing. They were still carrying their flags, and I could see more in the distance, so I walked against the flow of people towards the Prado.

There were still many sitting and standing around in Plaza San Juan de Austria (next to the Jardines de Murillo), with plenty of wacky backy smells in the air. As usual, there were all ages, from tiny babies to the elderly, with plenty of beards and bikes…

and some great slogans…

"No to reforms, yes to the (right) way (of doing things)," or something like that.

and some great slogans on bikes.

"So many people without homes, so many homes without people."

All colours of flags, too – as well as the red of the trade unions, the Republican and the Andalucian. The man’s tabard says “Quieren acabar con todo”, a snappier version of the strike’s slogan – “Quieren acabar con los derechos sociales y laborales” – “They want to destroy our social and labour rights”.

I could hear some noise coming from the Prado, a park with iron railings around it, so I went to investigate. Speakers on a platform covered with trade union flags were blaring out music, and a huge bar had been set up, serving drinks and paella to protestors.

The atmosphere was very cordial – friends chatting in groups, a few discussions with raised voices, but mostly in excitement rather than anger. (I know not to worry about people shouting at each other in Spain any more – it doesn’t mean they’re about to hit each other, it just means they’re having animated discussion.)

Then a heavy rock band started up, singing about the pigs (police, not jamon), death and destruction. They told the audience this was the first time they’d played to so many people, and it was pretty obvious why. They were shit.

This friendly atmosphere – there was a children’s playground right next to the bar, and flag-waving mixed happily with swings and slides – was a welcome contrast to what my husband had told me when I was heading to the metro station to come into town. Someone had thrown a stone through the window of a restaurant in the city centre, narrowly missing him and others.

The man had then run off towards Avenida de la Constitution, hotly pursued by a group including said husband. This was where the marchers were, so the vandal ran straight into the hands of the police, who were present in numbers to keep watch over the protestors. He was one of the five arrested in Seville today.

It remains to be seen whether President Rajoy will change his plans - his austerity budget, with 30-40bn euros of cuts, will be announced tomorrow - because of today’s marches attended by nearly a million people in 111 towns all over Spain. Half a million people were said to have packed into Puerta del Sol in Madrid.

What did seem clear from what I saw and heard, is that for most people the strike wasn’t a one-off. It was just the beginning of popular protest against widely unpopular reforms.

In occupied Gaul, one tiny village held out against the Romans...

See that little red spot at the bottom? That’s us!

It’s now just over 24 hours since we knew for sure that our next Prime Minister would be Mariano Rajoy, leader of the PP – the Conservative Popular Party.

With the country in an unprecedented economic mess, people are desperate for him to wave a magic wand and make all their problems go away: no more unemployment, no more businesses folding, no more houses being repossessed. Indeed, today there has been a Twittersphere call for him to resign: #dimiterajoy which does seem a little premature, considering his length of time in the job.

Even the most short-lived English monarchs got more time on their thrones, before being sent to the Tower.

For those who didn’t have the pleasure of (or time for) wading through the newspapers today, with their pages and pages of reports, facts, figures, statistics, graphs and pie-charts, I will distill the pertinent facts as follows (for more detail on my home region, Andalucia, see my other blog).

The PP won embarrassingly easily, as predicted, taking 44.6% of the vote, with the Socialist PSOE winning less than 30% – the price for shocking mismanagement of the economy by current PM (in name only) Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero.

I learned a new word over the past couple of days – escaño – seat in parliament. The PP got 186 to 110 for the PSOE. The Izquierda Unisa (IU), the “United Left” (an interesting concept in itself, given their history of the exact opposite) did well, winning nine new escaños – its share went up from two held in the previous parliament. By the vagaries of the Spanish electoral system,

the IU won nearly 700,000 more votes than the CiU, the Catalan nationalist party,  yet it has five fewer seats;

the UPyD suffered a similar fate, winning the same number of seats as a party with nearly a quarter as many votes. Many people today are complaining via Twitter about the unfairness of the vote allocation, and the skewed result which does not seem representative of the people’s wishes. The IU leader said they should have won 25 seats.

On the map showing the results, with the two parties’ colours, you’ll have noticed two small patches of red in the sea of blue. The one in the top right is Barcelona, and the last surviving outpost of Socialism in this national election is right here in Seville (the others are regional parties). Despite losing 200,000 votes, the PSOE managed to hang on to its traditional heartland. It has always been the main city of left-leaning Andalucia, which fared badly under Franco, who saw it as full of two peasants whose produce filled his plate after a hard day’s hunting, and nothing more.

Friends here in Seville have compared this map to the map of Gaul showing one indomitable village which held out against the Romans, which is a delightful if not particularly accurate comparison if you grew up loving Asterix books, as I did.

I’m going to mention a one-to-watch: the IU’s new man in Malaga: Alberto Garzon.

He’s a classic example of the over-qualified, highly intelligent young people who make up such a depressingly large proportion of the five million parados here in Spain.

An unemployed economist, Alberto is just 26 years old, and was a leader of the 15M pro-democracy movement in Malaga. He managed to win 9% of the vote in Malaga province – over 60,000 votes. He sounds like a hope for the future: let’s hope he can make his voice heard in the Popular melee which will be our next parliament, with a nobbled opposition.

Going back to Rajoy, one of his first actions at his party meeting this evening was to appoint Soraya Saenz de Santamaria as the person to oversee the handover of power, scheduled for 13 December, so the PP can start geting on with the job in hand before we all go off to eat our mariscos and drink our cava.

I have a serious problem with Soraya. She looks like she should be bossing the sixth form hockey team about. Her expression and general demeanour are those of a mean teenager who likes stirring up trouble. She likes to badger – at least, she did when she was in the opposition; to be fair, that was her job. Let’s see if she changes now she’s in power. She’ll probably be even more smug and begging-for-a-slap.

In the meantime we watch and wait, with baited breath, for our socks to be knocked off by the brilliance and innovativeness of Rajoy’s nation-saving economic measures. ¡A por ellos, Mariano!

It’s not about the image – I have yet to master the art of the steady-handed, focussed, vaguely watchable video – it’s about the sound.  For these videos feature two of my favourite chants.

Listen out -right at the very beginning – for “Lo llaman democracia y no lo es.”  – “They call it democracy, but it isn’t.” Sounds much better in Spanish, with the sing-songy tune.

and

“El pueblo, unido, jamas sera vencido!” – “The people, united, will never be defeated!” This has such a sense of grim determination and Spanish stubbornness, but also melodrama.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gG7bCcBbTsE

That’s it for today – it’s Saturday and I don’t want to see this computer screen for another 24 hours now. Tomorrow I will be blogging about Eco Sevilla, a new fair I’m going to with my family, and hoping to meet Digamama (ex-fellow Post-A-Day-er) with hers there too. It features children’s workshops, organic food, clothes and cosmetics, sustainable building and renewable energy. Don’t miss tomorrow’s post!

The long and the short of it is this: at a fruit&veg packing company in Murcia, south-eastern Spain, women have to wear a big red sign round their neck which reads “ASEO” (“TOILET”) when they want to go to the loo.

The owners of the factory, El Ciruelo, made their female employees ask permission from a supervisor like schoolchildren (“Please, Miss, canigotoilet?”), put on the sign and then had only five minutes to visit the conveniences, including going through security controls. If they took longer, 30 minutes was taken from their pay (5.75 euros an hour). Talk about medieval – it reminds you of the Spanish Inquisition and witchcraft trials; or, in any case, implies it’s a criminal offence to have a pee. What’s more, it is also claimed that there were only three signs for 150 workers.

The women at the El Ciruelo factory apparently preferred to forego liquids than put up with such humiliation, so that they could last their 12-hour shifts without visiting the facilities. El Ciruelo (which means “The Plum”) supplies fruit to Tesco, among other stores.

The two women thanks to whose ballsiness we’ve come to hear about this extraordinary situation were, unsurprisingly, sacked (the company claimed they were dismissed because the fruit season had finished). They went to their union, the UGT (Union General de Trabajadores), who reported the company for “violating the women workers’ rights to intimacy”.

The company has countered that the women didn’t have to wear the signs round their necks; they held them in their hands, or in their pockets, and that the system was to avoid queuing, so that work positions weren’t left unattended (and needing a substitute worker) while women waiting to use an occupied cubicle.  They claim the system was only used temporarily while a system of lights indicating which toilets were engaged, like on an aeroplane, was being fitted. They deny any action amounted to “an attack on their dignity or which denigrated or discriminated against them”.

In any case, those women knew how to grab the media’s attention with that photo. The unions are now fighting it out, with one defending the woman, and two taking the company’s side.

But it raises some interesting questions about employer abuses; the women were (allegedly) made to work 12-hour shifts, with only a half-hour lunch break (unpaid). Many workers will put up with terrible conditions, because they’re so desperate for a job.

One newspaper mentioned that men’s loo breaks aren’t limited. Now why doesn’t that surprise me?

Today is day 11 in A Post A Day. Fellow blogger and post-a-dayer Digamama has a give-away in hers today – don’t miss it!

The entrance of Palacio de las Dueñas, the Duquesa's Seville home and venue for her wedding today.

The palace is the Duquesa's favourite of her many properties.

Today was the Wedding of the Year in Spain. The Duquesa de Alba, Spain’s richest woman, who has one of the finest private art collections in the world, married her third husband. She is a very popular figure in Spain for her openness, her lack of pretension and her love of popular pastimes such as bullfighting and flamenco.

The Duquesa’s favourite palace (she has a wide selection – or did; she had to give them away to her children in order for them to approve of the union) is the Palacio de las Dueñas here in Seville, and it was there where she married her sweetheart, civil servant Alfonso Diaz, this afternoon. Yours truly braved the crush and the heat, both of which were extreme, to bring you some photographic evidence of what went on. ( I couldn’t make Will’n'Kate’s, so this was my replacement posh-celeb nuptial fix.)

Some people had dressed up for the occasion.

One person expresses affection for this most popular of bluebloods.

Others sent cheeky messages - eat your heart out, Twitter:

This TV presenter, from "Otra Movida", got the crowd going from a balcony...

and we all cheered when this TV cameraman panned across the throng of people below in the street.

The Duquesa's neighbours, opposite the palace entrance, had enviable views of the proceedings...

and these lucky people had an even better view. That parasol was very necessary - we were sweltering down in the throng...

so some used the traditional Sevillano means of cooling off - an abanico...

but the press pack were even hotter, in full sun (we had shade, at least).

At last the newlyweds made their appearance - and the roar that went up was deafening, while the surge forward was kind of scary. She danced for the people - and the cameras.

Two people looking very happy, holding hands while the world watched.

And then it was all over.

But they were kind enough to send out some liquid refreshment for the parched fans who had waited patiently for hours.

Me at the palace - time to go home now. What an atmosphere, what an experience. Ever since I interviewed her, I've been fascinated by the Duquesa, so I couldn't miss this. And it was worth the heat, the standing for hours, the shoving and pushing, and the claustrophobia. Seville at its best with high spirits, humour and great affection for a much-loved lady. ¡Viva los novios!

This was day 5′s post a day (one post every day for the month of October) – I just didn’t get to post it till 6 October, unlike my fellow post-a-dayer Digamama. So today you get two for the price of one.

The other reason was for the march, organised by the Acampada Sevilla, which left Plaza de España at 7pm, went down Avenida de la Constitucion, through Plaza Nueva and up to the Setas. We managed to time it so that we were there as the marchers arrived – luckily I got a great spot on a balcony.

Policeman leads march as its moves up Campana towards Plaza Encarnacion.

As each group arrived, there were waves of cheers, applause and chanting: “Que no nos representa!” (They don’t represent us), “Lo llama democracia pero no es!” (They call it democracy, but it isn’t!), and, most vociferously “El pueblo unido jamas sera vencido!” (The people united will never be defeated!). It is revolutionary stuff – this must be what it feels like to a ride on a wave of popular feeling. It was almost euphoric.

All the events I’ve witnessed here at the Setas – I’m an observer, rather than a participator, albeit a sympathetic one – have had a positive, uplifting, inclusive and friendly atmosphere. People are indignant, angry and fed up. But they are not taking it out on each other. They are channelling their energy into marches, meetings (assembleas) and are devising plans for how to put their demands to the government.

Demonstrators at head of march arrive, with banner: "15M movement, for a fair and participative democracy".

Crowd greets marchers as they arrive in Plaza Encarnacion.

The amount of indignados who took part in the march varies, as always, according to whom you trust more – the police (5,000) or the organisers (10,000). I was watching for half an hour as groups of protestors streamed in from Campana, filling up the square.

Marchers from nearby town Alacala de Guadaira arrive in the square.

"No job, no future, mortgage. How do I survive?"

The acampada has voted to stay in place until next Saturday. their political agenda is being decided this week, with a Consensus of Priorities to be confirmed: of the eight original points, four will be chosen as the main ones to concentrate on.

List of eight proposals; this is being whittled down to four priority ones.

Someone I spoke to at the acampada said he reckoned the first couple would be electoral reform – the current system makes it very difficult for parties other than the main two (Partido Popular, conservatives, and PSOE, socialists) to get a seat in parliament. Also, information about candidates for political office isn’t made public, or where funding for political parties comes from. In a political culture where corruption is endemic, this does not breed trust.

The other point he reckoned would make it to the Consensus of Priorities was government economic transparency – how much of the budget is spent on what. This would make the government more accountable – one of the main aims of this movement is for the people to be more involved in democracy, and to do that, they need to have a better idea of where their money is going, and why the economy in such a mess.

"Media manipulation"

I was astonished how little coverage the march and really received in the local press today – a couple of photos (OK, one on the front page), and then a short piece tucked away on page 15. I guess the traditional media doesn’t know how to deal with this phenomenon, which is driven entirely by social media – somethign they don’t get – and has all but bypassed conventional news outlets. Either that, or they think their readers won’t be interested; or maybe it’s just not attractive to the old-school editors.

The movement is being made even more local – its main national points are the Acampadas in major cities such as Madrid, Barcelona, Valencina and Bilbao – asking each barrio for its view of the proposals. On 2 June there will be local meetings and another big march on 5 June.

You can find out more information from their Facebook page,  which also has some videos from last night’s demonstration and rally, or website.

One final thought: I saw someone refer to the Setas as Seville’s “agora” – the central square in Ancient Greek cities where people could speak in public about any topic. This concept was a central part of the world’s earliest democracy – “demos” in Greek means people, “cratos” means power. In the words of Citizen Smith, for those of you old enough to remember: “Power to the People!”

The reason for entering the square which they gave was that they needed to clean it, in preparation for a possible celebration if Barcelona win the Champions League Final tonight. When people sat on the ground and refused to move, the Mossos d’Esquad, the regional police force of Cataluña, laid into them with their batons and also used plastic bullets.

Video of Barcelona

This video has now been watched by over a million people around the world.

The number of injured was over 80, with one in a serious condition, with a punctured lung and ruptured spleen. However, strangely, there were only two arrests, which in itself says something about the uneccessary degree of police force.

Unsurprisingly, all the acampadas around Spain (currently over 70) condemned the police action, including the one here in Seville, at the Setas.

So a rally was convened at the Setas, otherwise known as Metropol Parasol, which is where the movement is based. The massive shades, with their raised plaza, provide a perfect location for big public meetings.

Crowd at rally at the Setas last night.

People were asked to wear a flower at last night’s rally, and plenty of the thousand or so who turned up did, including lots of men, to express their solidarity with the protestors at the Barcelona camp.

I had a quick wander round the acampada, to see what had changed since my last visit a week ago. There are fewer people sleeping out there – around 170, I was told – but they are more organised now, with security regulations about how to deal with police confrontations, as well as general rules for the happy existence of such a group. The mood is still upbeat and positive, if not as charged as last week. People are still busy and motivated, focussed and determined, and looking forward to taking their message out into the barrios of Seville, where they had meetings this morning.

Protocol on how to deal with the police - after what happened in Barcelona yesterday, let's hope it's not needed.

I also saw a little veg garden, an activities area, and even a board listing the kids’ entertainment programme.

Veg garden, with tomato, aubergine and courgette plants.

Sign in veg garden: "A revolutionary should be able to hear the grass growing." Marx

Activities area

Children's activities - clown, stilt walkers, concert...

The meeting followed the same idea, speakers saying their bit spontaneously, earning hand-waving, cheering or applause, depending on the audience’s level of approval. During one speech, a police car drove past with its blue lights flashing, and drew a thunderous communal expression of disapproval.

An indignado says his piece to the assembled crowd.

Shake your hands if you agree with what he/she is saying.

You can still see plenty of placards.

"I think... then I get in the way."

The French revolution comes to Seville: "The guillotine for mafiosos, politicians and capitalists."

And the star lady from my last post was still there, with an appropriate floral accessory.

Even Miss Capitalism joined in with the spirit of the occasion.

#Hashtags for Twitter.

Wave your hands in the air like you DO care: 5,000-strong Democracia Real Ya! rally at the Setas in Seville last night.

Last night I went down to the Setas, Seville’s new architectural phenomenon. This is the focus of the city’s 15-M acampada (camp-out), our smaller version of Madrid’s 25,000-strong settlement at Puerta del Sol, demanding social, political and economic change, which has made headlines around the world this week.

With exquisite irony, the massive devlopment which was to be our outgoing mayor’s swansong, is being used as the base for a popular protest against politicians exactly like him – self-aggrandising, image-obsessed, and totally out of touch with his city’s residents, of whose money he spent 120 million euros on a vanity project which is now making the front pages for reasons he can’t be too thrilled about. People are fed up with his party, his government, and they’re making themselves heard, both here in Seville, and in other major cities around Spain (besides Madrid, the other main protests are in Barcelona, Bilbao and Valencia). A poll last week found that 85% of Sevillanos support the protest. During the final week before the regional and local elections on 22 May, the limelight has been suddenly wrenched away from the main political parties’ campaigns.

Protesters at the Setas: "This isn't a crisis, it's a con."

Evidently this movement was inspired, at least partly, by a best-selling book written by a 90-year-old French resistance fighter and philosopher called Stephane Hessel, called Time for Outrage (the Spanish edition, Indignaos, was published in February this year, and has been the top seller at Seville’s two main bookshops ever since) – as a result, one of the many catchwords for this movement is “Indignaos”. The book denounces the “power of money,” reflecting rising popular sentiment against social inequality and the dictatorship of banks over working people’s needs.

Time for Outrage, the book credited with inspiring the "Spanish revolution".

Another element being cited as an influence is the Arab Spring, with protests in Tunisia, Egypt, Syria and Bahrain.

Solidarity message from the Egyptian protest movement.

So what’s it all about? What do these groups of indignaos want? Well it seems to vary from city to city, but broadly, all are in agreement that the economy is a total shambles which is nowhere near to being sorted out properly; both bankers and politicians should be more accountable (any politician who is under investigation for corruption should be removed from electoral lists; sounds good to me); and unemployment is not being tackled effectively: over 45% of Spain’s youth are out of work.

"For a better world without lies."

Many of the protesters are educated twentysomethings – the majority of the organisers I saw last night fitted this profile, although there were also plenty of 30, 40 and 50-somethings too, wearing their home-made papers slogans, though those sleeping out in the acampada on the first floor plaza of the Setas (shadier than Madrid’s Puerta del Sol) were mostly young.

Paper and tape are available from the organisers for making signs, and people are encouraged to express themselves on posters taped to the concrete pillars of the parasols – popular participation is a basic element of revolution, after all.

Suggestions board on pillar of the Setas.

You can also get extension leads, and they even have WIFI – this is a 21st century revolution.

Protester with sign: "Social justice".

and another one: "The people's voice isn't illegal".

The list of points of the Seville group is as follows: removal of political class’s privileges; tackle unemployment; right to a place to live; quality public services; tighter control on banks; tighter control on tax fraud; liberty and democratic participation; and reduction in military spending. They have suggestions boxes for each of these topics.

List of proposals; most signs are handwritten.

The speakers are spontaneous and without any order – when I asked one of the organisers who had just been speaking last night, he looked at me as if I’d just insulted his mother’s cooking, telling me that there are no leaders (“because they get corrupted”) it is open to all, anyone who wants to say something can. I felt suitably chastened.

The speeches often melt into rhythmical call and response chants – “El pueblo no se callea(the people won’t be silenced), “Tu si que vale” (you’re worth it), “Que no nos representan” (they don’t represent us). The atmosphere was friendly and relaxed – there may be outrage, but it is not being expressed in an aggressive or confrontational way (thankfully).

"We want to be Icelandic.""For a better world without lies."

They even have a daily schedule, which is as follows: 7am breakfast, 12 midday meeting, 3pm lunch, 8pm meeting/demonstration, and 11pm dinner (food is all donated). People are designated into different areas: food, security, information, communications, cleaning, logistics (provides everything from batteries and megaphones to cold-boxes and furniture) etc, and the areas I saw were certainly being kept spotless.

Daily timetable at the Seville acampada.

For those on Twitter, there are a number of hashtags to follow: #15M #yeswecamp (geddit?) #acampadasevilla #nonosvamos #democraciarealya #notenemosmiedo and #tomalaplaza, as well as #spanishrevolution

Twitter # hashtags, with acampada WIFI below.

The four "recommendations": no alcohol, no glass, dogs on leads, and keep the noise down.

And finally, because this is Andalucia, where humour is never far from the surface, a lady who was attracting plenty of attention from both participants, and curious onlookers, like myself.

The death of capitalism.